CH 1

Chapter 1 – The decrepit aristocrat’s uncouth daughter

"You worthless thing!"

With the impact of the slap, I - Agnes Evantail - hit my back hard against the stone wall of the living room. I staggered and fell to the floor, and looked up at my father, the man who had hit me.

"I can't believe you couldn't win over the prince, or even a count of the lowest rank! How much money do you think I've spent on you over the past seventeen years?! You are a parasite on our Marquise family!"

I got up lazily, rubbed my swollen cheek, and found blood on my wrist. It looked like the edge of my mouth had been cut.

"I'm sorry"

Calmly taking out a handkerchief and wiping my mouth, I observed my father yelling at me to avoid being scolded any further.

My poor father seemed to have no doubt that I could win the hearts of the young lords.

Anyone who thinks about it for a moment can see that such a thing is impossible.

―― "Potato Lady."1

That's how the aristocrats of my age call me when they gossip in their social circles.

The venerable Marquises of Evantail.

Our family was so called in the days of my great-grandfather, who was once the right-hand man of the Prime Minister.

Currently, we are only proud of our bloodline and respect the good old days when we were most prosperous.

Our family, which had abandoned its way of life and business to keep up with the times, was now perceived by others as a decrepit aristocratic family with moldy values and zero appeal.

My family members are frozen in time, living today with the values they had then.

Naturally, this feeling of antiquity also applies to me, the daughter of this family.

From the time I was a child, I was forced to dress up as a noble daughter of the good old days, and I was taught the education of a child of that time, and if I showed even the slightest interest in trendy things, I was denied at all costs.

Therefore, I am unable to keep up with the topics of conversation among the daughters of my generation.

And the girls were not interested in the old-fashioned topics that I knew, so the distance between us naturally widened.

The result was a relationship in which they would giggle and make fun of me whenever we met.

It is not only among daughters, but also among aristocratic men of their age. In fact, I would say they are worse.

They blatantly look at me with a foolish smile, create a punishment game about confessing to me, and finally give me an unflattering nickname such as "Potato Lady".

By the way, "Potato Lady" means provincial, boorish, and lacking in taste.

It is true that our estate is in the countryside...

I staggered to my feet and left the room to get away from my father. It is not safe for me to stay here.

"Hey, we're not done talking yet!"

My father's yell echoes from the other side of the door, but soon he'll calm down.

Although his anger at my inadequacies remains, I am sure that my father will recover his bearings enough to weigh the impulse to lash against his daughter due to the fact she will be left with a scar that will make her unusable for political purposes.

―― Well, I don't think you can have a political marriage if you don't have the right partner.

Anyway, tired from the Count's home party, I dusted off my hand-me-down dress, ran into my small room and closed the door.

"Ha, I'm really tired. The Count's house is so far away."

The sky through the window was already dark and an owl was hooting in the distance.

I lifted the hem of my dress somewhat roughly and sat down on the sofa with a great deal of energy, letting my faltering emotions get the better of me.

"I'm still pissed off about it. What is this, 'Go and get a potential fiancée!'?! How am I supposed to do that? The son of a count likes a slender, glamorous beauty!! I'm the exact opposite of that, I'm a Potato Lady!!!"

I am rather big-boned and have a solid body for a girl.

Perhaps because of my frame, I have always been unable to become slender and slim, no matter how hard I tried.

I also have very thick eyebrows, too much hair that is too straight and cannot be tied up, and too much traditional makeup that I am forced to wear.

In addition, I only wear a white dress and age-old accessories that were hand-me-downs from my grandmother.

They were forced on me because they were of good quality and about the same size.

Unlike my grandmother, who had black hair, my hair was silver, almost white, and my skin was rather pale.

Get it......? If I were to wear white, my entire body would be completely white.

Even if I were to blend in with the white curtains in the great hall of the count's house, I would be completely unrecognizable.

Moreover, dresses made in the old days were extremely heavy.

Nowadays, lightweight dresses are made by many people, but my family shuns them, saying that they are too cheap.

I would like to say that even princesses wear such dresses, so what's cheap about them?

Since my family is not very wealthy, I silently complied, but I was somewhat uncomfortable.

I was the only one who stood out from the crowd of glamorous young ladies.

There was no way that the Count's son would choose such a conspicuous woman as his future partner.

My family had asked the other family about a political marriage, but it had not yet been officially decided.

Although we had talked about how today's party would bring us closer and make people aware of us, the Count's son, as if running away from my engagement, took another young lady around with him and danced with her several times in front of everyone.

The participants must have realized that the I was the Count's son intended partner.

And just before the party was about to end, he courted her in front of everyone.

"Huh?"

I feel like an idiot.

Why did I attend that painful party?

To endure the heavy dress such a long time?

Did I come all the way to the count's house in a carriage over a long distance for this?

Some of the nobles who knew what was going on looked at me and giggled. "Well, if the partner was the 'Potato Lady'..." and such.

Please don't be silly. This is a political engagement of interest only!

The Count and Countess later apologized to me and quickly wrote a letter to my father refusing his proposal of engagement and entrusted it to me.

I could not say, "No, please send the letter separately," so I accepted it and handed it to my father, who beat me.

Incidentally, in the case of the prince before that, I was forced to participate in the battle for the second prince's queen's position, and I lost the battle without ever having a chance to talk to the prince.

Even now, only bitter memories remain.