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"Why did you start working there in the first place?" The person asking is, of course, my half-brother Allen. For the past few days, I have been immobile so I sent my brother to hand a letter to my boss. He, of course, doesn't approve of the working conditions. "I'sh ardl work inhide sho hit dose hint mather" (I hardly work inside so it doesn't matter.) The reason why I sound so messed up is that first off the swelling in my cheeks has yet to go down and it hurts to talk in the first place. My cheeks are still bruised black and blue it is also hard to see correctly. "Why did you start working?!" 'I really want to sigh right now but that would hurt my face even more. Why can't healing magic exist in this world?' "I'sh refoo thoo... *Mumbles*" 'I shouldn't say want I want out loud.' (I refuse to...) 'I refuse to allow my fate to be decided by others.'

My fate in this life has already been decided. Marry the prince and give birth to an heir and make the prince happy. 'I hate it I'd much rather be dirt poor than have my fate decided for me.' Shaking his head Allan left the room with contempt. "Have you heard young master Allan punished the first wife because of what she did with the brat?" "Yes I know it was awful. I heard he beat her to the point she is in a state similar to what she put Miss Mallory in." "From what I heard Miss Mallory deserved it though..." That was the last of the conversation I heard before their voiced became too quiet for me to hear.