Now You Are Mireya. 🍃🍃🍃
Without wasting any time, Emillie immediately packed up their meager belongings.
“Mother... why are you packing our things?” Eleanor asked in confusion, watching her mother’s frantic movements.
“His Grace already knows you exist. I’m afraid... I’m terrified he’ll send spies to watch us—or destroy us.”
Eleanor fell silent. She lowered her head even further, feeling guilty for accepting the coins from the young Duke.
“Besides, if we stay here, people will keep insulting us, spitting on us, and throwing stones at us,” Emillie continued as she stuffed the rest of their clothes into a wrapping cloth.
When everything was ready, Emillie knelt before her little daughter. She gazed at the dirt-streaked innocent face with tear-filled eyes.
“My Lady Eleanor...” Emillie spoke softly, wearing the most bitter smile Eleanor had ever seen. It was the last time that noble name would ever pass her mother’s lips.
Gently, Emillie’s cold hands cupped her daughter’s tiny cheeks, forcing those beautiful, tranquil eyes to meet hers.
“Sweetheart... let’s leave behind everything we ever had in this city. Our honor, our home... including your name.”
Emillie brushed away the tears on her own cheeks before whispering, a whisper that would change the little girl’s fate forever.
“From now on, that beautiful name is dead. Now, you are Mireya.”
From that day on, she was Mireya. Her mother took her into hiding. They hid her name and her past in a remote village at the foot of a mountain, in Aunt Daria’s house. Aunt Daria had once been a loyal servant in her home.
Aunt Sophia was Aunt Daria’s sister. That was how she knew Mireya’s background—the Arclight blood flowing through the girl’s veins.
Deep in that village, Mireya and her mother’s life was far better than before. But year after year, Emillie’s health grew weaker. The memory of that tragedy continued to haunt her, sometimes even disrupting her mental health.
Needing a great deal of money for medicine, Mireya eventually found work at the Eisenwald family vineyard, where the wages were highest. It was also owned by the noble family that had once sentenced her father to death.
Mireya could only hope that she would never meet that family again. Yet that afternoon, she met the Duke.
Now . . . .
Morning in northern Arkenvale. The workers’ quarters were still shrouded in chilly air. Mireya had just stepped out of her room when Aunt Sophia approached her.
“Remember, your breakfast ration is mine, Mireya,” the woman said coldly.
Mireya nodded without protest. “I understand, Auntie. I’ll get it for you.” She headed toward the workers’ dining hall.
As usual, Mireya kept her head down while lining up to collect the breakfast rations. She moved quickly, not wanting to attract attention. But the peace of the morning was shattered.
“Mrs. Molly has been summoned to His Grace Duke Leonard’s residence!”
The voice came in a rush, nearly shouting.
Thump. Mireya instinctively raised her head. Her gaze landed on the woman who had just arrived, Mrs. Bai, the deputy head of the grape pickers.
A moment later, everyone’s attention shifted to Mireya.
“This is all your fault, Mireya,” Mrs. Hai said. “You were stupid not to get up and move out of the way of the path His Grace was taking. If anything happens to Mrs. Molly, you’ll be held responsible,” she continued more sharply.
Mireya fell silent. In that room, she was once again the easiest person to blame.
Mireya bowed deeply. “I’ll take responsibility for everything, Mrs. Bai,” she said, trying to remain composed. “I’m even willing to kneel at His Grace’s feet and beg for forgiveness. I only ask that I be allowed to keep working here.”
Kneel at the Duke’s feet? So be it. Ever since the day she became an orphan, she had felt that she no longer possessed any dignity. Even the right to live seemed not to belong to her. This body moved only to work, to survive—for the only person she still had left in this world. Her mother.
Mrs. Bai approached and looked her up and down. “Good,” she said sarcastically. “If you truly intend to take responsibility for your stupidity.”
Mireya bowed once more. She took the breakfast ration that was not even meant for her, then walked away.
All the way there, her head remained lowered, her eyes fixed on the floor.
“Do I really have to meet the Duke again? I hope not. I hope Mrs. Molly’s summons is only about the vineyard report. I hope nothing is wrong. This world is cruel enough without adding that meeting to it. I hope fate doesn’t bring me together with Duke Leonard Eisenwald again.”
Mireya let out a deep breath. “And I don’t know how I’m supposed to stand without crumbling before a man of the Eisenwald bloodline—the family that sentenced my father to death without ever giving him a chance to defend himself.”