Upon waking at dawn, the first thing I do is put on my tattered clothes.
For the work ahead, a dress would be a waste, and any other clothes would be too. This dress, originally a pristine white, is now pitch black from grease and soot. With this, I can work without worrying about getting dirty.
I draw water from the well in the courtyard and transfer it to the large jug in the kitchen. I make about twenty trips back and forth.
I put firewood in the stove and start a fire. I place the bread dough I prepared last night on the stove and cover it. While the bread bakes, I make a stew with vegetables and sausages.
I visit the rooms of my parents, my younger brother, and the servants to wake them up. While they eat breakfast, I do the laundry.
A merchant comes to take orders. I buy some ingredients and hand over the bread and textiles I made, receiving more money than I paid.
When I return to the dining room, everyone has already finished eating and left.
I gather the small amounts of food left on everyone's plates, make a morning plate, and eat it with the cooled soup. Father doesn't like vegetables, so my breakfast, which is full of vegetables, is very delicious.
After finishing my meal, I go to my room and sit at my desk.
... Yesterday, my sister died.
She disappeared a week ago. On her way to meet her fiancé, the carriage fell into a canal and was swallowed by the turbulent current. Since it was close to the capital, a large-scale search was conducted, but she was not found. On the fifth day, her death was confirmed.
Instead of a grand wedding, my sister's disappearance was marked by a silent family funeral.
We received many congratulations on the engagement. I write letters to everyone, thanking them for their congratulations and explaining the change in circumstances.
I also need to return the gifts. I put the money I received from the merchant into the envelopes.
I sign my father's name on the envelopes. For years, I have been writing letters on behalf of the Shadaran household.
I get up from my desk to prepare lunch. Today's family menu includes garlic and olive oil sautéed onions and zucchini, pumpkin salad, and ham picatta. For myself, I sauté vegetable peels and scraps in fat and eat them standing up. It's delicious. I finish eating before the family's ham is done cooking.
While the family eats, I return to my room and work until evening.
I prepare dinner and put away the laundry. When I return to the dining room, unfortunately, there is no food left. I drink some hot water, clear the dishes, polish the floor, scoop out the ashes from the stove, and set them aside for the garden.
I prepare the bath for the family. Then I clean the toilet.
I mix the ashes and fertilizer and spread them in the garden. I harvest vegetables and then chop firewood.
--- After that, I head to the bath. The water was empty. I have no choice but to undress in the courtyard and pour well water over myself. I dry off with old clothes. My tattered work clothes are already beyond repair.
More than that, my hair, which is matted and frizzy, is even more tattered than the black cloth.
I drag my cold, tired body back to the house.
I can't go to sleep yet. I need to calculate today's income and expenses and record them in the ledger. I also need to write out Father's schedule for tomorrow and prepare the bread for the morning...
But I want to read a little before I go to sleep.
Just one page, one line, one word. I want to read before I fall asleep.
I remember the stories my sister used to read to me, the distant tales from foreign lands—how she would change her voice and passionately perform the lines from "The Red Cat and the Tattered Clothes" with a child's voice...
As soon as I enter the main floor of the house, I am suddenly slapped across the face.
"You should have died instead!"
It was Mother.
"Oh, my dear Anastasia. Why did you die? Why...!"
Mother cries and hits me. The cold slap on my cheek feels like being cut by a knife.
Father just watches. I clench my lips and continue to endure her slaps.
I wasn't a neglected child, nor was I abused. This was the first time my parents hit me without reason. But I wasn't surprised.
Unjust violence and being told to die in place of my sister were not unexpected.
"Did you kill Anastasia? Did you tamper with the carriage? Did you push the carriage into the river and kill my Anastasia?"
As I start to say "No," I am slapped again and bow my head.
"It's your fault! Murderer! Die! You should die!"
... Oh, poor Mother.
To Mother, Anastasia was a treasure, a flower, an angel.
Poor Mother. I understand how she feels. I am sad that Anastasia died too.
Poor Anastasia... She must have been too beautiful. God must have wanted her. Mother, who lost her angel, is truly pitiful.
I don't like being hit; it hurts.
But compared to the dead Anastasia, compared to Mother's pain...
Suddenly, the slaps stop. I open my eyes to see Father holding Mother's hand.
"Stop it. You'll hurt her."
"Let her be hurt. I want her face to be unrecognizable. Anastasia is dead."
"No, that's not right. Marie is going to the Granado family."
"Me?"
I thought I had heard wrong. But Father looks at me directly and says firmly,
"Marie, you must take Anastasia's place. That is your penance for surviving."
Penance. What penance, Father?
What sin have I committed?
I didn't kill Anastasia. I wasn't even in the same carriage. Is it a sin to survive when others do too? What about my younger brother, Father, and Mother, who were also at home?
Oh, I see. It was a mistake to be born.
It's wrong to be me.
I'm sorry for being born, Mother.
If I am born again, I will be Anastasia.
Beautiful, cute, bright, and lovely.
Loved by everyone, treated kindly, and sought after.
If I am reborn, I will be like that, so please forgive me...
"--- Forgive me..."
"Miss Marie?"
A gentle, quiet voice spoke.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself wrapped in a blanket and lying on a bench. Tunic was rubbing my feet, and Mio was combing my hair.
As I looked around, Mio narrowed her eyes.
"Did you talk in your sleep?"
"… Was I sleeping?"
"Yes. Did it hurt?"
"No… It feels good."
"Miss Marie, please rest a little longer. I'm applying cream all over your body right now."
Tunic said. I closed my eyes again.
"--- Relax. It's okay. Just leave everything to us."
"… Miss Marie, you are so beautiful…"
Their voices faded away again.
This time, I didn't have a dream.
But when I opened my eyes again, a world even more dreamlike than a dream spread before me.