Unfortunately, My Older Sister Has Given Up on Happiness

Unfortunately, My Older Sister Has Given Up on Happiness.

Raw: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n2128lb/

“Why have you given up on yourself?”

My sister’s fiancé hates me. He looks at me with an expression of disgust, as if looking at a caterpillar.

“…Indeed, it’s true that there are various lacking parts.”

Yes, that’s true.

Unlike my sister, my appearance alone is unpleasant to the eye. I’m thick-headed and inept, timid.

“But you can at least make an effort, right? My fiancée will become the nation’s mother. Strive so you don’t drag her down.”

A dazzling man, like my sister, admonished me in a cold tone.

But may I say one thing?

His eyes are blind.

After all, he still hasn’t noticed that the person he fell in love with at first sight — my fiancée — and my sister have swapped bodies.

Words from such a person can’t possibly reach me.

I curtseyed in silence and turned on my heel.

Born as the second daughter of Count Paulet, Emilia had everything from the moment she was born.

Golden hair that shone as if bathed in sunlight. Young-leaf-green eyes.

Beautiful, well-arranged features. Skin white and translucent as if clear.

Not only was she praised for an appearance like a fairy, she was quick-witted and skilled at manners, dance, and handiwork — she handled anything deftly.

Emilia was raised wrapped in the love of her parents, servants, and the people around her.

—There was only one exception, though.

Her elder sister Delia, two years older, was the only person who directed hatred at Emilia, who was loved by everyone.

She didn’t have even a fragment of the glamorous, beautiful features of their parents. People said she resembled their paternal grandfather.

With brown hair and brown eyes and an unremarkable face. Her one charming point — small double-fold eyelids — were sadly buried in flesh. Perhaps due to constitution or stress, she had become a little plump.

Perhaps because she didn’t make an effort or due to basic intelligence issues, she was poor at studying and slow to pick up manners and dance. She had clumsy hands; embroidery and musical instruments were catastrophic.

My sister hated everything in the world. Especially, she burned with hatred toward me, her sister.

She was always in a bad mood, taking it out on objects and servants, and when our parents weren’t watching she would pour out her resentment at me.

“If you weren’t here, Father and Mother would have loved me!”

“They buy dresses only for you!”

“I wish you had never been born! Because you were born, I am unhappy!”

I still don’t know what I should have done to make things right.

As a child I was only bewildered.

Indeed, our parents treated Emilia in ways obvious even to a child — they doted on her, bought things for her, and were indifferent to Delia.

So I tried, in a childlike way, to be clever: “Why don’t you buy something for my sister? I’ve already had things bought for me before, so I don’t need it,” or “I want to go to the tea party with my sister.”

But our parents only raised Emilia’s evaluation, saying, “You are truly a kind child. Don’t worry,” and nothing changed in how they treated my sister.

“You hypocrite! I don’t want your charity!”

“Are you pitying me? Stop — it just makes me feel more miserable!”

“You’re basking in superiority, aren’t you? Disgusting.”

Actions or attitudes meant for my sister’s sake only made her angrier.

Being considerate didn’t help. Being kind didn’t help.

On her tenth birthday I presented her with a handkerchief embroidered by me. She tore it up and trampled on it in front of me.

I gave up on repairing the relationship with my sister. From then on I did my best to avoid being seen by her.

As time went on, my sister shut herself in her room. She began taking meals in her room and we stopped seeing each other’s faces.

Occasionally, from her room I would hear servants being abused, or the sound of things breaking, but there was nothing I could do.

When we met very rarely, she still glared at me with eyes full of glittering hatred.

It was the day before my fourteenth birthday.

Unable to fall asleep from excitement, I left my room and walked the corridor. I thought I’d look at the moon from the bay window at the landing.

“Emilia.”

“Ah!”

Standing in the darkness was my sister, whom I hadn’t seen in a while.

Because she had been shut up in her room, she smelled somewhat sour; though she hadn’t grown taller, she looked like she’d put on flesh.

Her face had breakouts, and the once somewhat charming features had become a frightening, witch-like visage.

More than her strange appearance, I was overwhelmed by the murderous intent she radiated.

—Tonight I might actually be killed.

I seriously prepared for the end of my life.

“Fufufu. You can stay in that body only until tonight. Make the most of it.”

Having said that, my sister quietly returned to her room.

I collapsed on the spot. In that short encounter I was soaked in sweat.

So it had gone that far —

I had suspected I was hated and envied, but what I had felt a moment earlier was unmistakable murderous intent.

She hated me so much she wanted to kill me. I was such an existence to her.

The next morning I woke up and breathed a sigh of relief.

—I’m alive.

Maybe what happened last night was a dream.

Even if it had been real, surely a noble lady wouldn’t put a sister to death. I laughed at myself for worrying too much.

When I tried to sit up I noticed something off.

The room was darker than usual. And there was a smell of rot.

Usually, at the time Emilia wakes, the maid draws the curtains and lets light into the room.

Also, it wasn’t the perfume of the flowers that usually decorate the bedroom, but an old, musty smell.

My field of vision felt narrower than usual.

“!!”

I was surprised to see my hands. They were swollen, either with edema or fat, puffed up.

My body was heavy, and my face and back were itchy.

A chill ran down my spine.

A bad premonition rose, and I scrambled out of bed as if falling.

“Ah!”

The room had changed in one night — vases were shattered and books scattered; there was the stench of rotting food.

Words like curses were written across the walls, and strange patterns and diagrams were drawn on the floor.

Heavy curtains hung over the windows, tightly closed.

I felt breathless and rushed out of the room.

“Ahahahahaha! It really worked! Ahahahahaha. There’s nothing more delightful than this!”

When I stepped into the corridor, I saw a figure laughing loudly — my own form.

In my confusion, my (elder) sister told me.

“Fufufufu. I swapped bodies with you. From now on, live crawling on the ground as Delia! Taste hell in the long life ahead of you! Ah, my body feels light! It’s the best. You’re attending Emilia’s birthday party today too! Fufufu. It will surely be disgraceful, won’t it…”

After the sister in my shape left, I roused my tangled feet and returned to the room. Avoiding scattered things, I opened the closet door. The cracked mirror on the inside of the door reflected my sister’s colorless face.

“A body swap… such a thing… really?”

I had never heard of such a thing. It sounded like a poorly made fairy tale.

I knew that things called black magic or sorcery existed, but they were dubious and hardly anyone believed in them.

However, from the strange, ominous diagrams and patterns on the walls and floor of the room, my sister’s obsession seeped out.

—Could my sister’s hatred and fixation on me have caused an impossible situation like a body swap?

While I stood there in a daze, the servants began to stir.

The house was busier than usual preparing for Emilia’s birthday party.

No one paid attention even though Delia was crouched in her room.

“Now, in situations like this, the initial response is crucial.”

I spoke to myself as if to make myself decide and stood.

I didn’t know what exactly had happened, but I had to switch my mindset and act.

Maybe the ability to calmly think of the next move even in abnormal situations was the result of education to be a crown princess.

I stepped out into the corridor, and a passing maid I tried to call bowed her head and hurried away.

“Who do you think you are?”

When I spoke from deep in my chest, the maid’s eyes opened wide in fear.

“I’m calling you, so listen properly to my business.”

“Um, I’m Emilia-sama’s personal maid…”

“And? If someone of the master family calls you, you should stop, listen, and call someone or respond, shouldn’t you? Even if you aren’t the one in charge. Even if you’re in a hurry. Haven’t you been taught that?”

The Count’s servants performed their duties but were swayed by feelings. They excessively attended to Emilia and handled Delia shabbily. Perhaps following the parents’ behavior, but servants of the Paulet household shouldn’t be creating differences in how they treat the daughters.

My sister might have tantrums, but she never calmly delivered such stern logic. The young maid froze in surprise this time.

“If you’re busy, call two or three maids who are free. Call maids who can properly carry out their duties.”

“Um, today is Emilia-sama’s birthday party…”

“Are you the head maid? Are you in a position to direct people and matters? This is ridiculous. Call the head maid.”

The maid stood stunned for a bit, then blinked and ran off with rattling footsteps.

An hour passed before the head maid finally appeared.

“Miss Delia, is this selfishness again? Stop troubling the maids. Today is Emilia-sama’s birthday party and everyone is busy. We have no spare time to fuss over you.”

The head maid, with a severe expression, crossed her arms in a lecturing manner as if admonishing a child. When I had been Emilia, I’d only ever seen her smiling face.

“Who do you serve? For what do you work?”

“…That would be for the count, …for the Paulet family.”

“The one who employs you is Father. The one who manages the servants and has authority is Mother. But you serve the Paulet household, don’t you? Then isn’t it part of your job to take care of the daughters of the count? Are you saying you are abandoning your duties?”

My stern words came from anger at the servants who wouldn’t change no matter how much Emilia tried to rebuke them.

It’s unacceptable for servants to treat the daughters of the household differently. The worst were parents who allowed and left that behavior unchecked.

Saying her recent attitude was harsh wouldn’t justify it. Those servants had been treating the sisters differently since before they were old enough to understand.

“…But today is Emilia-sama’s birthday.”

“This is for the sake of the sister you supposedly love. She wanted me to attend tonight’s birthday party, so ensure she confirms it if you must.”

“…Emilia-sama... how merciful.”

“I can’t attend my sister’s shining stage in a state like this, can I? Prepare a bath, and see to the dressing. Prepare a dress too. It can be plain as long as it fits... anything that will make the body fit.”

“…”

“Also, clean this room. This can wait. Put potentially valuable items in storage; anything dirty or smelly, including curtains, dispose of it. While that’s being done, prepare the guest room for me. That’s all the instructions.”

“…”

“I know you’re busy. But this was unexpected for me too. Sorry, but somehow handle it. You can do it, right? You’re the head maid of the Paulet household, after all.”

Because she usually moved nimbly but had become startled, I snapped my fingers once.

“Understand?”

“Y-Yes! Certainly!”

The head maid, her face drawn as if she had seen a ghost, finally answered and hurried away.

Emilia’s birthday was celebrated brilliantly. Next to her the fiancé looked at her with affection — the crown prince.

Only the space where the beautiful couple stood made this seemingly declining count household feel like somewhere grand.

The parents, among the invited nobility, looked at them with dazzled eyes.

“He always seemed so shady, that one.”

I gulped grape juice in one go.

There was no popularity around me in a corner of the venue.

From the dessert corner of the buffet, I piled cute petits fours onto a plate. The Paulet family’s pastry chef was skilled. Because Emilia liked sweets, my parents had apparently poached a talented confectioner from somewhere. At that time I had been careful about my figure and hardly ate, but today I allowed myself to eat as I pleased.

“There’s no such thing as true love, right?”

He must have loved Emilia’s appearance only.

Even with the bodies swapped, his expression and mannerisms were still that of my sister. Even being so close, he didn’t feel anything off.

Normally, a royal engagement — especially for a future king — wouldn’t be arranged in childhood.

The person’s aptitude and circumstances are carefully considered before adulthood.

Yet, a daughter of a not particularly wealthy count’s family was set as the crown prince’s fiancée when she was seven. Just because he fell in love at first sight.

As a fiancée she was treated very importantly indeed.

Letters never failed, dresses and accessories were sent so much the wardrobe couldn’t hold them.

At the academy for nobility where she had enrolled two years ago, they spent commute times and lunches together, showing the world his favoritism.

But in the end, he likely loved only Emilia’s exterior.

“Not that I’m particularly sorry about it…”

Blushing, I watched the crown prince look at my (sister’s) ‘Emilia’ with dreamy eyes — and my chest did not ache.

A blond-haired, blue-eyed prince. Concerning the fiancée, he had been indulgent, and being excellent, he had a reputation as a future ruler.

Being doting and showing off his cherished one increased his favorability.

An ordinary girl might well fall in love.

But Emilia didn’t have that luxury.

As the crown prince’s fiancée, she barely had the social rank. And she had been selected as a fiancée even though she didn’t want it.

From the age of seven she was pressured as the crown prince’s fiancée and to be the future queen mother, and desperately acquired what was necessary: study, languages, social graces, manners, dance, hand-played instruments, embroidery, and even crown princess education.

Every day, she was chased by things she had to do.

She was always anxious.

So as not to deviate from everyone’s ideal of Emilia. So as to be suitable as the crown prince’s fiancée.

Because she felt if she lost her beauty or the position as the crown prince’s fiancée, she’d be unloved, she thought.

The difference between being loved (Emilia) and being neglected (Delia).

That difference was whether one was beautiful or not.

Whether the inside matched the beauty.

It felt like walking on thin ice.

There was no time to rest.

“Well then, let’s go as far as we can in this body!”

My sister’s hatred had narrowed her view. I, perhaps, was better at seeing things from above. My sister’s body and position were not necessarily bad.

Normally, if a beautiful body swaps with an ugly one, one would go mad and complain at anyone and everyone.

One would search for a way to swap back. Looking at the party, it seems that such efforts might be futile though.

I won’t do such things.

Not because it’s pointless. Because I no longer want to return to Emilia.

To psyche myself up, I stole another round of petits fours.

Three months had passed since then.

The beautiful sister who had her body swapped with the ugly sister did not wallow in despair.

She strove to enjoy the things she hadn’t been able to do before, mainly entertainment.

She went to cafes and the theater with guards and maids.

She returned to the academy she had been on leave from, studied reasonably, ransacked the library for romance and adventure novels to devour, and enjoyed embroidery and musical instruments.

“Ah — this is the best~”

At last she had arranged her room to her liking and was leisurely enjoying afternoon tea.

From my sister’s room a mountain of old books on sorcery and black magic came out, along with herbs used for black magic, dried black lizards, and precious minerals. Selling them to traders brought in quite a sum.

With that seed money she replaced as much of the room’s furnishings as possible and created a comfortable space. She changed the wallpaper that had been filled with the curse words she had written to one she preferred. With the remaining money and pocket money she played about.

I popped a mini macaron in my mouth. Paulet family’s pastry chef truly was the best. Not only were they colorful, the dough’s flavor varied by color.

Hmm, this seems strawberry. It’s not just sweet — there’s sourness too.

“What’s great is the lack of onlookers.”

There were always people attending Emilia.

At home, parents and servants. At the academy, the crown prince and his retinue.

And always someone’s eyes on you.

Of course there were favorable looks too.

But among them were sticky, covetous affections and others watching every move to try to push you down. The most intolerable were my sister’s eyes full of hatred.

Except when sleeping I couldn’t let my guard down.

It felt less like living and more like acting as the Emilia everyone demanded.

“I think this amount of moderate cuteness is good.”

I touched the plump feeling of my cheeks formed by a regular lifestyle.

With charming double-fold eyelids, a small nose and mouth. Not a beauty, but charming.

After having the maids tend the rough skin and hair, I could be presentable enough.

I had trimmed down a lot from being fat.

Women who are thin and delicate are favored, so by noble standards I’m still on the heavy side.

But I will not go on dieting beyond necessity like Emilia used to, deprived of sweets.

Though I had been steeped in feelings of inferiority, Delia wasn’t ugly. It’s understandable that someone would break down being compared constantly to her sister, who was God’s masterpiece.

For someone who doesn’t crave attention, excessive beauty is unnecessary.

“Fufu. I should thank the sister who swapped bodies with me.”

This way I could enjoy sweets I loved.

“Now, where had I read up to?”

I reached for the next volume of the adventure series I had recently become obsessed with.

When I had been Emilia, it had been difficult to express what I liked.

Saying “I like macarons” would have resulted in deliveries of nothing but macarons from parents, the fiancée, and supporters.

Saying “I like adventure novels” would have resulted in piles of that author’s works.

Besides, the fiancée might have said, “Those common foods are not suitable for you,” and “Adventure novels are barbaric amusements, stop reading them.” So it might have been prohibited.

I soaked in the sense of liberation from having to watch everywhere.

On the other hand, the sister who had desperately wanted the body swap seemed to be struggling.

She didn’t even have the luxury to make snide remarks or boast.

“Oh my, oh my... that’s rough.”

At a family dinner, while elegantly using knife and fork, people’s eyes turned to Emilia.

She made noises, and often even dropped cutlery at the worst times.

How would she manage tea parties or dinners at the royal court?

A manners instructor would be shocked.

Even if she understood table manners intellectually, practicing them was hard. Emilia had learned them by trial and error daily.

Delia, who had been eating carelessly in her room, would find this difficult.

Even now, my chubby fingers and clumsiness prevent me from doing things as I wish. But I’d still look more graceful than the current ‘Emilia’.

From a calm perspective, my sister’s conduct was less elegant, but not a single person noticed.

Our parents frowned a little, but they didn’t confront or question Emilia.

“Good, good, but since you wanted to take my place, keep trying.”

I tasted sautéed duck. The sweet and sour sauce went well and tasted good.

My sister threw a tantrum sometimes, but she was growing day by day.

Emilia had quick wit and skill.

Judging from the state of her previous room, she didn’t look like she’d been studying while holed up.

She must have spent the time endlessly brooding about how to curse or swap bodies, pouring out her resentments.

Someone who spent years trying to bring down another who had worked hard would have a hard time catching up.

But she didn’t seem to want to swap back, so perhaps she was somewhat satisfied.

“Do your best, sister. You asked for it.”

I detached myself from thoughts of my sister and focused on the delicious food before me.

“Oh my, oh my... that’s rough.”

At school, whenever I saw my sister after returning, I thought the same.

Although in a different grade, our school buildings were different, but we sometimes bumped into each other in the cafeteria or courtyard.

She had new followers, it seemed.

The circle around ‘Emilia’ had been replaced by lesser-ranked but wealthy daughters of viscounts and barons.

Their faces were cute but their approach to the crown prince and retainers was off.

“I’ve worked pretty hard to form a faction… but it collapsed in an instant~”

She memorized the nobility directory, considered family lines and ranks, and gathered the latest information to consolidate her group since childhood, preparing for when she became crown princess. She arranged people for her fiancé’s advantage.

Her followers were not friends. Some of them were aiming for the fiancée’s seat. She used them as she saw fit, keeping useful people close, not because they were comfortable.

Unfortunately, Delia couldn’t endure such conditions.

“Be careful not to get kicked out.”

I prayed for her from afar.

Her previous circle would try to push Delia down in any gap.

Those newly surrounding lower nobles would try desperately to win the crown prince.

She had no allies.

Half a year had passed since the swap.

There was still no sign of our bodies returning.

“Ahhh! Why won’t it move like I think it should?! Middle finger!”

Things that used to be easy to do when taught at once now wouldn’t work with Delia’s head and body.

Her chubby fingers wouldn’t move deftly. The gap between what the mind imagined and reality was severe.

“No good — instruments are out. Ah, I finally have free time and yet…”

Maybe she had no sense of pitch; even the violin she liked sounded screechy and showed no sign of improvement. The tutor my steward arranged for her gave up.

“You’re ugly…”

Turning, I saw ‘Emilia’ again, as I hadn’t for a while.

Only I might notice that the once attracting aura had faded.

“It's useless, sister. Whatever you do to try to draw attention, ugly people won’t be noticed. You’re thick-headed and clumsy; even if you try, you can’t do anything.”

Indeed, I struggled in my sister’s body.

She turned out to be more stupid than I’d thought; no sense of pitch, no athletic sense, clumsy hands.

What I used to learn easily now took much time to understand.

I couldn’t perform elegant dance steps; instruments and embroidery were a disaster.

Though I gained freedom by taking this body, it wasn’t all good.

On the other hand, she had improved remarkably over these six months.

Not yet Emilia’s equal, but her manners had become astonishingly beautiful.

Her social skills, a concern, were being rebuilt with the crown prince’s advice.

Finally she had the leeway to make snide remarks to me.

Her eyes glittered with hunger; it seemed like the last traces of my sister.

“You’re useless and ugly and fat like a pig. Oh, how pitiful!”

“That’s really the case, isn’t it.”

I thought so too.

Watching you desperately act as Emilia made me pity you.

We were even.

A year after the swap, the crown prince began to involve himself excessively.

Though he had previously ignored Delia despite being the same age, he now scolded her whenever they met at the count’s house or school.

With less than a year until graduation and no fiancée for my sister, she might have become a worry for him.

‘Why have you given up on yourself?’

Those words he’d said earlier cut into me.

“Well, it’s frustrating, but he has a point.”

I began sketching by the pond in the school’s back garden.

Here the blue of the sky and the surrounding green balance well, and on a clear day the pond reflects the scenery beautifully.

“Indeed, at this rate it’s dire… a second wife, or a caregiver wife…”

I stopped my sketching hand and considered.

Our parents would not prepare a marriage match for Delia, who they ignored.

At school, no noble sons or daughters sought her out, and making one’s own connections was hard.

Her figure was poor and her face just so. At balls it’s even harder to be chosen.

At this pace she’s headed straight for a middle-aged second wife or a disreputable wife.

“It’s pretty much game over, isn’t it~”

She was slow in thought and memory.

It took ten times longer than when I had been Emilia to learn.

She had the minimum academic and language skills, but she couldn’t make a living as a clerk or tutor.

And she was clumsy and poor at handling things.

Working as a maid in the royal palace or the households of high nobles would be difficult.

“Study, cooking, embroidery, singing, scripts, instruments…”

I tried various arts, hoping a talent would open a path.

But no musical ear, no literary talent.

At present, all hopeless.

“Only drawing seems to be promising.”

I flipped through the sketchbook.

Though lacking in many things, Delia seemed to have a talent for drawing.

If she could draw fantastic pictures she could do book illustrations; if she could draw people, portraits. A path as a painter could open.

However, the skill was mainly in realistic landscapes.

“It won’t put anything in my stomach though~”

I opened a blank page and ran charcoal across it.

My hand kept moving even as my mind wandered.

I copied the landscape in front of me precisely.

At the drafting stage I could sense where to place which color without thinking.

Perhaps only as someone’s later-in-life bride would a path open?

If kind and virtuous, perhaps a life of caregiving could be managed.

Above all, I wanted to live leisurely.

I didn’t seek something as uncertain as love.

“Haha. It might be something that fills the stomach though?”

Someone appeared without any sign, and I opened my eyes.

A shifty-looking man had appeared.

Perhaps I’d let my guard down in the safe environment of the academy. I gripped the paintbrush at my side.

“That won’t defend or attack anything. Hey, put the brush away and let’s talk business, shall we?”

I watched the man before me with a skeptical squint.

He wore a student uniform; the tie color indicated the final year — green.

At his collar was a pin badge in the shape of a ship, shining gold.

“Gold?”

“Oh— you know what this is. As befits the sister of the future crown princess!”

The badge he flicked with his finger wasn’t something an ordinary student would own.

It was the continental merchant’s insignia, color-coded by grade.

Gold was used by merchant companies that trade with royal families and allowed free passage across nations on the continent.

“Oh— it’s a fake, huh…”

It looked exactly like the real thing, but it must be counterfeit.

After all, the man himself was utterly suspicious.

Wet-looking black hair and black eyes peeking through.

A beauty spot near his left eye. Lips red and glossy.

A different kind of handsome than my sister — sensuality dripped from his whole being, giving off an enchanting atmosphere.

On top of that he wore a friendly smile.

“No, no, it’s genuine! I’m enrolled as an exchange student in the final year to see the academy, but I’m at least five years older than you! Anyway, you’re short on money, right? I’ll buy your paintings at whatever price you say!”

“Fraudster...?”

“In this country, landscape paintings don’t sell, do they? But in the northern country recently, an old painting was excavated and the duke of that country took a liking to plain realistic landscapes, and they suddenly became a boom. These kinds of paintings are fetching high prices!”

The more desperately he insisted, the more suspicious he became.

“While the person himself is all relaxed, this bleak and desolate painting — it will sell! Right. I’ll buy one. You need money, right? Draw a lot and sell them!”

“…”

“Trust can come later. Look, you have no path except as a late bride, right?”

At what point had he eavesdropped on my mutterings? My distrust increased.

The man I encountered in the school’s back garden, Marc, was a suspicious fellow.

He was simply shady.

Yet why did I go along with him? Because I was lonely.

A year had passed since the sisters swapped bodies, and while I enjoyed single life, I was starved for conversation.

Marc had no lack of money or women.

He was probably teasing me because it was amusing.

While he was intrigued and would leave when bored, I’d take advantage while he lasted.

“Thank you for today.”

When I said I wanted to manage my own money going forward, he suggested registering with the continental commerce guild.

I didn’t know, but apparently one could register even if not a merchant.

And, kindly, he put up with my ignorance.

He bought several of my paintings and paid me.

“Are you going to boil me and eat me?”

He laughed, clutching his stomach, as I gave him a suspicious look.

“If I’m going to eat you, let’s use that one.”

After laughing, he pointed at a skewer vendor.

“…”

Drawn by the enticing smell, I wandered closer to the stall.

Comparing my upper arm with the nicely grilled meat.

If I gained any more weight it’d be bad, perhaps.

“Today’s on me.”

I gave in to the smell. With the small change left after depositing to the guild, I bought two skewers and handed one to him.

He’d earlier shown me the types of coins and how to use them.

“Good-looking, huh. Thanks.”

Not his usual shady smile, but a childlike grin.

The freshly grilled skewer tasted good, Marc’s smile made me happy, and somehow I found myself laughing with him.

Today at my favorite bench by the pond, instead of drawing I opened a book.

There was one book in the library about a city beyond one country.

“A free commercial city… sounds lovely…”

The place Marc lived — a city beyond the neighbouring country.

Our country’s system was completely different. There was no aristocratic or noble class.

Governance was carried out by representatives elected from among the people. And not a single person, but a group organization handled it.

It seemed to be a country where women could live comfortably and security was good.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a nice place. Lots of sea and nature. You can draw as much as you want.”

Marc appeared as always; suspicious.

A stalker who turned up anywhere.

If he followed my sister around I might understand, but even close to graduation he lingered near me.

“You’re not on good terms with your sister and can’t be matched to royalty, what’s your goal anyway?”

“What, now? We’re friends, right?”

“A merchant doesn’t waste time on things that won’t profit him.”

I poked the gold badge at his collar.

He came and went on schedule, sometimes away for negotiations.

But he came around to see me regularly.

“Yeah… he doesn’t do things that aren’t profitable for sure.”

At the usual pointless exchange, I sighed once.

“It really seems like a dream place. Conditions to move are registration with the merchant guild and no criminal record. But to keep living there you’d need a fair amount of money.”

As the name ‘commercial city’ suggested, merchants gathered there. The people paid equally high taxes, and the cost of living was high.

“I’m doomed~ It feels like I was only let taste a dream…”

I shut the book with a snap.

“There’s just one method.”

“You’re going to sell me then? As food?”

“Get out of there. Contract marriage? With me?”

A nasty joke made me angry and I shot him a glare.

“Ordinary girls would probably say yes right away!”

For some reason he laughed uncontrollably.

“What do you get out of it?”

“Your paintings. The ones you draw will fetch high prices soon.”

“If I hand over my paintings free will you support me?”

“Also, merchants are trusted more when married. Wives and daughters’ invites are annoying, husbands would be wary of being stolen from. But I have no desire to get married. I’m not attentive at all.”

“Hmm.”

This country was indeed stifling.

A caretaker wife? A suspicious merchant’s contract wife?

All gambles.

If I’m going to gamble my life, I’ll bet it.

That child is gone.

Despite taking my sister’s place I hadn’t had things go as I wanted.

When I watched from the sidelines my sister, who had been loved by my parents and the crown prince and fawned over by servants and noble children, had appeared to be basking in ease.

The crown prince’s fiancée’s imposed knowledge, manners, language skills, dance, and social prowess.

On top of that, instrumental practice and embroidery.

Everything demanded not letting down one’s guard.

Though I had lived two years longer than my sister, I hadn’t studied, so now I had to learn desperately, cutting down sleep.

My sister was smart and dexterous, so thanks to her I managed to pick up the minimum in two years.

Still, the tutors and the crown prince looked puzzled.

The crown princess education had been interrupted entirely.

I had planned to boast and trample upon my sister, but I had no such luxury.

Before I knew it, my sister "Delia" had disappeared before graduation.

When I asked my parents they said, “Don’t worry. It’s just the removal of dead weight,” giving no answer.

The room she had used at the count’s mansion had furniture covered in dust cloths and all her belongings disposed of.

It was as if she had never existed in this house.

When I asked the crown prince, he left to confirm and returned a few hours later looking pale.

“She was removed from the register of the Paulet house, became a commoner, married, and moved to a free commercial city.”

“Married?”

“Yeah. She married a merchant who had been an exchange student here. Though the exchange student status was temporary, the Paulet couple accepted a large sum as preparation money and rare minerals in exchange for their daughter.”

I hid a faint smile behind my fan.

The sister who had been such an eyesore left as the ugly and disappointing Delia, became a commoner and married, and moved to a country where commoners live.

Becoming a commoner was fine.

Being a merchant’s wife was fine too. But I couldn’t stomach the idea that someone paid a large sum for my sister.

Someone who loved that ugly, useless Delia couldn’t exist.

Certainly she would be sold for more than what the Paulets received.

No one would help the girl who’d gone away.

My sister would never be happy.

Serves you right.

But still, something gnawed at me.

I bit my nails.

I had planned to become the crown princess and then prepare a terrible marriage for Delia once things had settled.

Now she’d gone out of reach.

I wanted to see her plunged into misfortune with my own eyes.

That night, one of the two stones set into the foreign magical device used to swap bodies broke.

Two stones arranged in the center of the palm-sized device.

Before use the two stones had been transparent; when drops of my and my sister’s blood were applied they changed to our eye colors respectively.

Green and dark brown stones. The green one shattered.

I laughed.

I didn’t know whether the device would withstand repeated uses, but I’d heard it wouldn’t activate unless both stones were present.

This ensured my sister and I would never swap bodies again.

It’s fine. Everything is proceeding as I intended.

After that I continued my busy days as Emilia.

But from the day I found out she’d emigrated the crown prince’s behavior had been odd.

Two years later, the wedding went well, and in the obligatory consummation my husband muttered “Emi” — the childhood nickname of my sister.

After the first night the other stone in the magical device broke and crumbled to nothing.

He probably noticed.

That we sisters had swapped bodies.

He performs his duties, but doesn’t trust me; he no longer looks at me with the eyes he once looked at whoever he cherished.

Now and then he looks at me as if he might kill.

It’s the look I had once given to my sister.

It looks like someone twisted up in hatred and delusion.

So I pretend to be happy beside a husband who hates me.

How long do I have to keep this up?

How much more effort is enough?

A glittering but illusory world.

My mind is sharp. I can cram knowledge endlessly.

Should I learn another language?

How much of the constantly changing domestic and international situation should I follow?

How many manners must I drill into my body?

How far must I read people’s expressions and the subtext in their words?

I’m going mad.

Attempted assassination, attempted kidnapping.

Whether they were tempted by this beautiful figure or were aiming for the position of the crown princess, I couldn’t tell.

I couldn’t trust any of the people around me.

And yet I couldn’t rely on the partner I should be able to trust.

I thought I wanted all of it once.

The pinnacle of womanhood in this country. Power. Beauty. Favor.

Pretty dresses and jewels.

The envious gaze of others.

I seemed to have taken them all and acquired them.

Yet I’m not happy at all — why?

I have nowhere left to run.

I answered Marc’s proposal of a contract marriage with a quick yes.

It seems the famous merchant house on the continent was real; Marc negotiated directly with the Paulets.

He paid a large sum as preparation money and included rare minerals, succeeding in removing me from the Paulet register.

He took me, stripped of my household registration and turned into a commoner, to the free commercial city and married me.

Though it had been a contract marriage, we had a grand wedding in front of his relatives, friends, and the merchant guild, not a white wedding.

After marriage, we lived quietly in a seaside town where I painted.

Exactly the relaxed life I had once wished for.

He busied himself with work, but came to see me once a month.

A year later, I told him everything.

Living together, I naturally grew to like Marc and fully trusted him.

“Assuming that story is true — why didn’t you try to return your body or get revenge?”

Marc, a realist, seemed half skeptical.

Even he, who traveled across the continent, had never heard of such things.

“I was scared stiff! You wouldn’t understand unless you experienced it! It wasn’t just jealousy. It was hatred, murderous intent. Such things aimed at me from my real sister forever. Better than being killed, and I no longer had attachment to my body or status…”

My sister’s twisted, distorted passion.

The fear that she might strip me of my life and dignity entirely was constant.

I’d rather not live feeling that fear; even if I never returned to my body I didn’t care.

Being the dull, useless, disappointing sister was fine — at least I could live in peace.

So I didn’t seek the cause.

Ancient magic? Black magic? A curse?

A suspicious foreign device?

I was too afraid to even look into it.

In Delia’s body I’d be mistreated, but at least I wouldn’t be killed.

“Did you prefer Emilia’s body, Marc?”

After moving to the free commercial city, perhaps because the food suited me, I lost weight and became somewhat presentable.

I wasn’t the striking beauty Emilia had been, but enough.

Perhaps. I hope so. Lately my emotions had been a little off and I wanted to be thought pretty by him.

“No, either is fine. Whatever makes you comfortable is fine by me. Are you glad you came with me?”

“Fufu. I may have been sold, but I think I hit the jackpot.”

“You’re lively now. A size down but healthy-looking.”

He tilted his head looking at my face; I no longer found him suspicious.

“Do you prefer the previous size?”

“Umm, the squishiness felt nice, but the way your current arms can wrap around me is nice too.”

He hugged me as he said that.

Though it had been called a contract marriage, his casual skinship was worse than expected.

“So, you’re okay with either?”

“Yeah!”

“I’m glad you can paint…”

I breathed a sigh of relief, wrapped in the arms of my husband.

There were days I’d be anxious about the future, but the life I wanted had come true beyond expectation.

It all stemmed from Delia’s talent for painting that people had said was a shame.

I hoped no one would come along whom he loved truly.

“Well, leaving aside the painting stuff, I did kidnap you anyway…”

His mutter was small and barely audible.

We confirmed our mutual feelings, and soon after, I became pregnant.

After passing on some of his merchant work and saving money, he opened an art gallery.

He seemed to have a judge of taste and was doing well.

For some reason none of my paintings were displayed in the gallery. Maybe what an amateur draws can’t sell.

Even if they weren’t marketable, Marc liked my paintings and decorated our home with them.

Around Delia there was happiness.

I had only accompanied my uncle out of curiosity to the place of that transaction.

In a country I had dropped by, my uncle — who did shady business — had sold my sister to a witch-like noble daughter for a large sum, in exchange for a foreign magical device that swaps bodies.

That buyer was Delia, Emilia’s older sister.

The device seemed dubious and the one who sold it was my uncle, so he was not my responsibility.

Still, curiosity kept me in that country to watch what would become of it.

I forced myself into the academy, posing as an exchange student staying in the country, and observed the Paulet sisters during my spare time.

The younger sister remained luminous as ever; the elder gradually vanished from the academy.

Just when I was about to leave, at Emilia’s fourteenth birthday party I saw them and immediately realized:

—Ah, they’ve really swapped…

Sister looking straight at the younger sister.

Even if eye color and shape had changed, poise and clear eyes remained the same.

I observed them at the academy for a while.

The elder sister, unsurprisingly, struggled.

Yet no one noticed.

And him! He seemed to be living carefreely.

Enjoying freedom and trying various things.

She loosened her shoulders and was free of guilt.

When I first spoke to him my voice shook.

There was no guilt; I truly wanted to know the person more, not only because I thought she had talent at painting.

If Delia hadn’t been trapped in hatred, what would have happened?

Despite lacking in looks and ability, she had a talent for drawing. If someone had seen that, perhaps she could have found happiness.

And Emilia could have continued shining.

I wanted to ask the woman who took Delia and made her into a contract wife:

—Did you want to become crown princess? Did you want to go back to your original body?

Perhaps there were ways through connections across the continent.

My uncle might have known how to break the curse.

But I abandoned that effort.

I offered Delia a contract marriage to provide her a base to live leisurely and to watch over her.

She partly trusted me but knew I had no romantic feelings.

Still I hoped she might be charmed.

I introduced her to my family and colleagues, and had a grand wedding so her foundation would be solid.

I’m sorry, but I did take the first night. My uncle told me that the effect of the foreign device sold to my sister would take hold if the subject took something foreign into her body — meaning if she lost her purity, the body would never return.

Even after being cast into a completely different culture as a commoner, she continued to live at her own pace, happily.

I didn’t want to see her every day, so I purposely made myself busy at work and returned once a month.

But being near her was pleasant, and the frequency shortened; by the time a year passed I returned about once a month for business trips.

Then one day she told me they’d swapped bodies. I felt a prick of guilt again.

“…Don’t you regret losing your name? Being called Delia instead of Emilia now?”

I asked simply.

She casually said she had no attachment to the beautiful features or her status.

She had no regret not being Emilia.