Chapter 2 - King Cinderella: Two Hearts Entwined in Sin

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

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A full year had passed since Erald's noble-born stepmother and her son came to live at the estate—and by now, the boy was certain: this union had not been arranged by his mother's loving spirit.

 

He had hoped that welcoming a new wife might restore his father's vitality and youth, but those hopes had been cruelly betrayed. It pained him to watch as his father grew only more withered and hollow.

 

So much so that strangers now mistook him for Erald's grandfather. His once-dark hair and beard had turned a ghostly white, and he looked like an empty shell—drained of life by a bewitching, venomous woman.

 

"Ugh, how vile! I can smell cows and pigs! This is exactly why I hate the countryside! Erald, change the wind at once! If our noble guests' noses are offended, it'll be your fault!"

 

Clad in a lavish gown befitting a queen, the stepmother shrieked while waving an ivory-and-feather fan.

 

While the master of the house was away on business, she held gambling parties night after night, always complaining loudly whenever she lost.

 

Of course, no one could change the direction of the wind. And truth be told, Erald thought the stench of tobacco and perfume was far more nauseating than that of any livestock. But there was no room for defiance.

 

Working with the servants, he closed all the southern windows to block the breeze and opened those to the north to avoid the room filling with smoke. Then, all they could do was wait for the racket to end and the guests to finally leave.

 

"You should get some rest, Master Erald. We'll take care of the rest."

 

"I can't, Hannah. I have to keep track of how much the Baroness has lost."

 

"Even if you do, she's not the type to stop, is she?"

 

"No, but when Father returns, I want to give him an accurate report."

 

That's what Erald said to Hannah, his maid and former nursemaid—but the truth was, his purpose for staying up ran far deeper than mere bookkeeping.

 

Just the other night, after suffering a devastating loss at the gaming table, his stepmother turned to the nobleman who had bested her and declared, "I cannot possibly pay. Even my indulgent husband would be furious." Then, instead of money, she added, "Take the loveliest maid in this estate as your slave."

 

The maid was dragged before them against her will. "If you don't do exactly as I say," the stepmother threatened her, "I'll accuse you of stealing my jewels. You'll hang for it. And if a noble like me files a formal complaint, you don't stand a chance."

 

Erald had intervened just in time, and the worst was narrowly avoided. But the thought of something like that happening again kept him from ever truly sleeping.

 

He believed it was his duty to protect this home—not just from losing money, but from losing something far more precious.

 

Even money, in truth, was not to be wasted lightly. It took immense effort and time to build wealth, yet it could vanish in the blink of an eye. Even as a child, Erald understood this. Within just one year of his stepmother's arrival, their savings had dwindled dramatically, and many servants had already been dismissed.

 

"Even if you do report how much she's squandering, it won't lead to a divorce," Hannah said. "Your father's a commoner. She… well, she's a noble. And commoners don't get to cast off nobles. That's just how the world is. I'll never understand it, myself—what even is a noble?"

 

"A noble," Erald replied, "is someone born with privileges. But the true nobles are those who receive those privileges with humility, as a sacred duty from the gods, and use them justly for the sake of those who have none. If they do nothing but gorge themselves on what they're given… then they're no better than pigs."

 

"Oh, my… Master Erald, if someone hears you say such things, you'll be hanged!"

 

"I'm sorry. That was too harsh of me. After all, pigs feed the hungry. Compared to them, people like that are worse. I should apologize to the pigs."

 

"Master Erald…!"

 

"That's our secret, okay? Now go on—rest while you can."

 

With a gentle chuckle, Erald pressed a hand to Hannah's back and nudged her away.

 

Erald, as master of the house's heir, could afford to sleep late. But the servants had to rise with the roosters, no matter how late the lady of the house stayed up playing at decadence. Farm work had to begin at dawn. The laundry still needed doing. And someone had to make the morning trip to the market.

 

Outside the smoke-filled salon, Erald watched in silence as the nobles disgraced themselves.

 

They drank themselves into stupors, gambled wildly, and whispered scandalous tales of illicit affairs. And all the while, Erald thought deeply about what it meant to be "noble."

 

What he had said to Hannah had not come from a book—it was his own conviction.

 

To the innocent eyes of a child, the nobles gathered in his stepmother's salon appeared not just shameful, but lower than pigs—utterly lacking in dignity as human beings.

 

Why, Erald wondered, had God not brought into the world noblemen and women like his parents, or like Hannah and her husband—diligent, kind-hearted people of quiet strength? Why had He instead allowed someone like his stepmother—wasteful, frivolous, and merciless—to be born into nobility?

 

Was there some reason for it? Or was it simply a matter of chance?

 

If it was true that the privileges and environments one is born into shape a person… then perhaps it was wrong to blame the nobles for what they had become.

 

After all, their lives were riddled with temptations unimaginable to commoners.

 

To scorn someone who had drowned in the sea of luxury without ever having tasted its sweetness oneself—that was arrogance. Only those who stood amid temptation and still walked the higher path, who endured the same trials and yet chose virtue—only they had the right to speak as guides.

 

How does one grow a heart that is strong and beautiful? It isn't like a face or a name, determined at birth. If that's the case, then I have to raise it myself, carefully, without being swept away by my surroundings.

 

I may be a commoner… but I want my heart to be proud and noble, like a king's. I want to grow into an adult I can admire—someone I'll never be ashamed to be. And when I, too, am called to the heavens someday… I want to stand tall when I see my mother again.

 

Erald leaned gently against the stone wall of the corridor, pressing his palm and fingertips to its surface.

 

He remembered his mother's words—that even if half her soul had ascended to heaven, the other half remained here, watching over him in the roof and the walls, in the books that surrounded him.

 

He no longer believed she had anything to do with his father's remarriage to the Baroness. But still… he had started to feel that maybe every meeting, every experience, had meaning.

 

By witnessing the vulgarity of the nobles, he had been forced to ponder what nobility truly meant—and what it meant to be human. And now, because of that, he stood here, striving to cultivate a heart that could one day be called noble.

 

So perhaps… nothing in life is truly meaningless.

 

No matter how painful the days to come might be, they would become the nourishment for a heart that must grow strong.

 

The heart doesn't grow simply by reading books—it stirs, expands, and stretches with lived experience.

 

"Master Erald! A-a message—bad news—your father…!"

 

The voice of the steward cut through the smoky air, reaching Erald just as he had resolved himself anew.

 

It echoed into the salon, and with her face twisted in panic, the Baroness stumbled out into the corridor.

 

Erald was already taller than his stepbrother. He carried himself with a quiet maturity beyond his years. But he was still just a boy—a boy who still longed for the comfort of a parent.

 

No matter how noble one's ideals, reality does not always follow the script.

 

And in that moment, with news of the death of the man who had become his world, there was no way Erald could simply accept it with grace.

 

 

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