After hosting her final tea party, Eleanor announced an indefinite withdrawal from high society and shut herself away from the world.
Ever since the tea party, that lunatic Edward had been following Lydia around like a stalker, and the gossip papers barely had time for the ink to dry before printing another scandal.
Even when the Stykov family formally sent a letter of protest to House Hans, the only reply they received was an irresponsible excuse claiming there was no way to stop their out-of-control second son.
And in the end, the damage fell upon the Stykov sisters.
More specifically, upon Eleanor.
Lydia was constantly guarded by the four most powerful men in the empire, taking turns protecting her so thoroughly that nobody dared touch her.
After one young noble insulted Lydia in public and Vincent responded by hanging him upside down from the ballroom ceiling with magic, no one even considered provoking her anymore.
Which meant all the attacks concentrated on Eleanor instead.
— A sister inferior to her younger sibling! Why does Eleanor Stykov always lose men to her sister?
— The suspicious disappearances of Eleanor’s men! What truth could she be hiding?
— Analysis of the Count’s daughters: the shocking reason the older sister loses to the younger!
— Is Eleanor “that kind” of woman? Why do men keep changing their hearts after meeting her?
Unlike Lydia, Eleanor had no one acting as her shield, so she had no choice but to endure the abuse alone.
As she read the articles that were practically sewage disguised as journalism, Eleanor could only stare in disbelief.
Most of them were complete nonsense, but the problem was that these filthy words stained her reputation more and more with every passing hour.
Until Edward Hans finally came to his senses and stopped chasing Lydia around, Eleanor could not return to society.
If the two of them even happened to appear at the same party by coincidence, hundreds of articles would explode across the papers overnight.
“Has he seriously gone insane?”
Reading an article about Edward blocking Lydia’s carriage with a bouquet of flowers only to get mercilessly humiliated by Sinclair Tess, Eleanor muttered the words blankly.
Being forced to stay cooped up inside because of her ex-fiancé’s obsession with her younger sister was irritating, but honestly, it was not entirely bad.
Without any social obligations, she could sleep in as much as she liked.
Eleanor spent her days lazing around like a spoiled little piglet.
Lisa, meanwhile, would tear up while insisting her lady was far too thin whenever she noticed the slightest softness around Eleanor’s waist, so nobody dared criticize her laziness.
“So this is what the life of a rich unemployed person feels like.”
Eleanor flopped across the sofa dramatically.
With nobody watching her, she could behave however she wanted, and that freedom felt wonderful.
“It’s nice… but kind of boring.”
She had too much money and too much time, yet nothing to do with either.
She could not go outside, which meant no shopping, no theater, no opera house.
Every place that sounded remotely entertaining was off-limits, leaving both her time and money wasted.
“Hm. It feels like such a waste to keep killing time like this.”
After staring blankly at the ceiling patterns for a while, Eleanor suddenly sat upright.
She needed to do something productive.
Remaining idle like this felt far too wasteful.
After a long moment of thought, she pulled a diary from inside her wardrobe.
At the moment, the most productive thing Eleanor could possibly do was create a plan for leaving House Stykov and building an independent life of her own.
She wrote in large letters across the top of the page.
— My Independence Plan
Then she began listing items beneath it.
Get married = effectively failed
Save money = current assets: 5 million gold + one mini gold mine
Become independent without marriage = no justification
Find justification = ???
Tapping the question marks with her pen, Eleanor fell deep into thought.
What possible justification could she have for becoming independent?
In this world, simply saying, “I’m an adult now, so I want to move out,” did not work.
She dipped the feather pen into ink again and continued writing.
— Ways for Noblewomen to Become Independent
Marriage
Inheriting a title
Imprisonment
Expulsion
“Number one is impossible for now.”
Eleanor frowned.
Her reputation had become far too terrible for marriage.
Even if she started recovering it immediately, it would still take at least two years to restore her image and find another suitable fiancé.
“Next… inheriting the title.”
Only Lydia and Eleanor remained as heirs to House Stykov, so one of them would eventually inherit the county.
But Eleanor had no desire whatsoever to become Countess Stykov.
In the original story, Eleanor had actually inherited the title, and somehow the idea of following the novel’s path exactly made her uncomfortable.
Besides, how was becoming Countess supposed to count as independence?
That would only tie her even more tightly to the family.
“Third, imprisonment.”
If convicted in an official trial, she would end up in prison.
For nobles, that was considered a tremendous disgrace, enough to justify leaving—or being forced out of—the family.
But becoming a criminal just to gain independence was insane.
“Fourth, expulsion.”
If her family cast her out, she could technically become independent.
However, for a prestigious house like the Stykovs to disown their daughter would be horribly dishonorable.
And nobles who were expelled from their families usually had all their assets confiscated before being thrown out penniless.
“My five million gold… my mini gold mine…”
Eleanor immediately drew a large X beside number four.
There was no way she would sacrifice the fortune she had practically bled for through three broken engagements.
That damned engagement cancellation had already blocked option number one.
If she lost the one remaining advantage she had gained from it, then what had all of this suffering been for?
One by one, she crossed out every option from one to four.
Finally, Eleanor lowered her pen and rested her chin heavily in her hand.
“How am I supposed to leave this house?”
Marriage had been the easiest route, yet it had become impossible the fastest.
She absentmindedly scribbled words like running away and escape across the page before scratching them out with long irritated lines.
“Maybe I should just wait until the original story ends.”
The reason she wanted independence in the first place was simple:
She wanted to stop being merely “the heroine’s older sister.”
Once the story of My Beloved Lady ended, perhaps she would naturally escape that role without needing independence at all.
The problem was that Eleanor did not know how the novel ended.
All she knew was that My Beloved Lady was a romance story about the second daughter of a count’s family and the four male leads she had known since childhood.
She did not even know which of the four Lydia ultimately ended up with.
At best, Eleanor guessed it was probably Crown Prince Leopold.
Which meant she had no idea when the story itself would conclude.
If luck turned against her, it might never end for as long as she lived.
“Can I really endure that?”
Could she truly wait forever for the original story to finish?
If she gave up on independence and simply settled into her role, life would certainly become easier.
The Stykovs were a wealthy and prestigious count’s family.
If she accepted her position as the heroine’s older sister and maintained it properly, she would never have to worry about survival for the rest of her life.
But…
“You should be more careful for Lydia’s sake from now on.”
“It’s only natural people like you.”
“Really, Liddy. Who could ever hate you?”
“I think Miss Stykov was hurt more than anyone else.”
“I’m actually in love with Lydia.”
The countless words she had heard ever since the broken engagement floated back through her mind.
Not a single person had worried about Eleanor.
Not one had comforted her.
Everyone thought of Lydia first.
That was the natural order of this world.
It was so normal, so familiar, that feeling hurt by it now almost seemed ridiculous.
For eleven years as Eleanor Stykov, her life had always been like this.
She was not even second place after Lydia.
She was merely the kind older sister people forgot the moment she fulfilled her role.
“I’m sick of it.”
Her lips twisted bitterly.
“I’m so tired of this.”
She had endured it for eleven years, but she was finally reaching her limit.
She was exhausted from living only as the heroine’s extra sister.
She had never chosen to become Eleanor Stykov in the first place, so spending her entire life trapped as the heroine’s older sister felt unbearably unfair.
“I need a reason.”
A reason that would allow her to become independent without obstacles.
Eleanor circled the word justification over and over again, thinking desperately about how she could finally gain her freedom.
She kept thinking until the sun disappeared and the moon rose high into the sky.
That night, Eleanor dreamed.
In the dream, she saw herself failing to gain independence and becoming nothing more than the heroine’s older sister forever.
She saw Eleanor Stykov standing dimly in Lydia’s shadow, blurred like every other insignificant extra in the story.
No one called her Eleanor.
The people around her had white, smeared faces like badly painted portraits, but their mouths remained horrifyingly vivid as they spoke.
“You’re Miss Stykov’s older sister, right?”
“She’s Lydia’s sister.”
“Wow, so you’re Lydia Stykov’s older sister.”
“Where’s your sister? Why are you alone?”
To the people who referred to her only as Lydia’s older sister, Eleanor answered with a similarly blurred face, moving only her lips.
“Hello. I’m Lydia’s older sister. My younger sister is over there. If you’re looking for her, please feel free to use me anytime. I’m Lydia’s older sister, after all.”
Eleanor smiled.
Her bright red lips floated eerily across her blurred face.
Then suddenly, the scenery changed.
Eleanor found herself kneeling on the floor while people surrounded her from every side, throwing accusations one after another.
“How can an older sister stand in the way of her younger sister’s future?”
“A sister who stains Lydia’s name! How utterly disgraceful.”
“What if our Lydia gets hurt because of her sister? What a useless thing.”
“Who even put this here and called it Lydia’s sister? It’s completely unnecessary.”
“This won’t do. Let’s remove the heroine’s older sister entirely. There’s no need for such a character in this world anymore.”
Eleanor trembled violently as she cried before the accusing crowd.
Their words became shapeless blades that carved her apart.
When the final sentence pierced straight into her heart, she rubbed her hands together desperately and begged.
“I’m sorry. I’ll do better from now on. Please let me keep being Lydia’s older sister. Please… I’m begging you…”
Even as she sobbed so hard she could barely breathe, nobody answered her.
As the silence stretched on, cracks began spreading across Eleanor’s body.
Terrified, she clung to them even more desperately.
“Please forgive me. I’ll do better. I’ll work harder and become a better sister!”
But no one showed her mercy.
From beneath her chin, her face split apart with a horrible cracking sound.
Then, like a sculpture made of glass, her entire body shattered into pieces.
“—Hah!”
Eleanor jolted awake, gasping harshly for breath.
Looking down at herself, she closed her eyes and let out a shaky sigh.
It had been a horrifying nightmare.
Brushing her hair back, she climbed out of bed and stepped onto the terrace.
The night sky was buried beneath clouds, leaving not a single star visible.
Resting her arms against the railing, Eleanor stared blankly down at the garden below.
During the day, it had been full of life.
Now it looked cold and empty, like a lifeless model display.
“I stood here before too… thinking about how to escape this place.”
A weak laugh slipped from her lips.
Her honey-colored hair fluttered softly in the night breeze.
Beneath the shadows cast by her lashes, her deep blue eyes lifted toward the sky.
“Will a chance ever come for me too?”
Eleanor wondered.
Just once—would this world ever offer an opportunity to someone other than the heroine?
Would the world ever open a path for someone it did not love?
After standing silently on the terrace for a long time, Eleanor finally turned and walked back into her room.
She lay down again, pulled the blanket over herself, and slowly drifted back to sleep.
The opportunity she had longed for so desperately arrived exactly one week later.
