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# 167 Surely, I Can Endure This
The following morning, Ortansia rose even earlier than dawn and immediately headed to where she had hung the dress to dry the night before.
‘The weather was good, so it should be dry. At this rate, I should just about make it in time...!*’
Ortansia arrived with such hope, but—
"What...!"
The moment the hanging dress came into view, Ortansia stopped in her tracks.
‘No, it can't be...!’
When she had last checked it the previous night, there had been nothing wrong with it.
Yet the dress now swaying in the wind before her... was visibly covered in mud stains.
‘It didn't rain last night. There aren't any puddles around here either, so why…’
This could only have been done deliberately by someone.
Who on earth would do such a thing?
No, there was no time to ponder the cause.
Right now, she had to wash it again...
"My, my, what a dreadful state it's in."
At that moment, a voice from behind made Ortansia shudder.
"M-Miss..."
Ortansia slowly turned round to see Marguerite wearing an expression that seemed to find the situation utterly amusing.
"Getting my precious dress covered in mud like this... whatever were you thinking?"
Marguerite spoke as if tormenting her, drawing closer step by step.
But what showed on her face wasn't anger.
It was an expression of pure delight, as if she found tormenting Ortansia unbearably enjoyable.
Seeing Marguerite like this, Ortansia realised the truth.
‘The one who dirtied the dress... was Miss Marguerite herself…’
After all, it was strange that Marguerite—who normally wouldn't wake unless Ortansia or Pamela roused her and would sleep indefinitely otherwise—was in this place before dawn, somewhere only servants would venture.
It was all Marguerite's own doing.
She had given Ortansia a difficult task and even resorted to sabotage like this to bring her down.
...She was trying to punish Ortansia.
A chill ran down her spine at such vindictiveness.
"I thought you must be rather capable for my brother to favour you so... but it seems I was quite mistaken."
Marguerite spoke with a spiteful curl of her lips.
"You'll have to accept punishment for what you've done to my precious dress."
"......Yes."
Ortansia squeezed out a trembling voice and nodded.
She knew it would be futile to say anything to Marguerite.
—"...I told you to come to me if you had any troubles, didn't I?"
She remembered the words GĂ©rard had said to her the night before.
Surely if she told him, he would somehow resolve this situation.
But that might cause discord between Gérard and Marguerite, becoming the trigger that would destroy the peace of the Vérité ducal household.
‘I can't do that…’
In the original world, Ortansia knew well how much GĂ©rard had suffered.
Having been denied his family's love in early childhood, he still didn't understand how to love others.
He probably didn't know where his own happiness lay either.
‘In the original world, Mother and I destroyed Brother's... the VĂ©ritĂ© family's happiness. So in this world, I must protect it…’
It didn't matter how unreasonably Ortansia was treated.
...Surely, she could endure it.
"Come along now."
Marguerite roughly grabbed Ortansia's arm, apparently intending to take her somewhere.
Following behind with heavy steps, Ortansia still found herself seeking salvation.
—’wake up ‘
—*Sia’
‘Brother…’
If somewhere, anywhere, there existed the GĂ©rard who was her beloved stepbrother.
‘Help me, Brother…’
Trapped in this cage-like situation, Ortansia couldn't help but wish for it.
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