Celebrity Lady - Chapter 7

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Celebrity Lady
Chapter 7
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Juliet Karerina.
Or rather, from today onward—Rubetria Diolus.
In that other world, I’d lived 365 days a year in constant motion, yet I’d never once felt tired.
I thrived on busyness and despised wasted time. Since I’d already crossed a river I could never return from, one day of wallowing was enough.
To survive as Rubetria going forward, and to repay the debt I owed her, I had to transform this wretched life—and that meant not squandering a single moment.
‘The fortunate part is that Rubetria was remarkably well-read.’
She’d barely left the house, spending her days confined to her room reading books.
She’d studied diligently too, determined not to shame the family.
‘She’d mastered subjects that a noblewoman needn’t have studied so deeply.’
It wasn’t enthusiasm for learning so much as having excess time to fill.
She’d read everything—politics, economics, society, culture—and read the daily papers without fail, staying informed about the world beyond these walls.
Though she’d never truly participated in high society, she was flawless in Social Etiquette and Dance. What more could be said?
‘All that hard study of yours—I’ll put it to good use. For you.’
After a silent word of gratitude to Rubetria, I began to think.
‘First things first.’
My resolve ignited.
‘I’m going to dismantle this household’s insane hierarchy, which Molga Diolus has been manipulating.’
Every servant in this house corrupted by Molga stood in her camp. And my two older brothers, raised in her hands since childhood, knew nothing of her true nature.
Only Father could have helped, but he had a rather significant problem.
‘His mind’s completely gone. He’s just dragging himself through life because he hasn’t the strength to die.’
My father, the Duke of Diolus, eighth of his line. Leonard Diolus.
To put it kindly, he was an extraordinarily romantic man; less kindly, he was the very definition of irresponsibility.
His tragedy began with his devotion—his overwhelming, all-consuming love for the Duchess of Diolus, my blood mother, who’d passed when Rubetria was four.
After Mother died, Father became utterly emotionless, abandoning his duties as Head of Household, merely breathing rather than living.
Locked in his chambers twenty-four hours a day, drowning in drink, we lived under the same roof yet might as well have been continents apart.
As a result, for the past ten years, we three children were raised almost entirely by Molga’s hand.
‘Though he wasn’t completely indifferent to his children, either…….’
If forced to describe him, Father was the sort of duke who might not lavish attention on his only daughter, yet knew to press a Black Card with unlimited funds into her hands on her birthday and tell her to celebrate with friends.
In that other world, I’d been someone who received affection from everyone, to the point of exhaustion. A father like that would have been welcome, except…….
‘Rubetria really did need his love and attention.’
She’d learned early to hold her tongue with such an indifferent father, and he’d spared little thought for a daughter who said so little.
‘It’s hopeless. There are no memories of him, no shared moments—worse than strangers.’
He’d remain distant from his daughter, drinking himself to death before even reaching forty.
“Miss, you’re not eating?”
“Oh.”
Lost in thought, I snapped back to awareness.
Rebecca, a maid with ash-grey hair neatly bound, stood beside the breakfast table set in my room, her expression clouded with concern.
‘Rebecca…….’
As memory returned, the girl before me looked different.
Among all the servants who’d turned a blind eye to the devils’ cruelty, she alone had looked after Rubetria with genuine kindness…….
‘I’m furious.’
A terrible incident at Rubetria’s sixteenth birthday—I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to speak of it—had been the turning point. She’d decided she could no longer ignore what was being done to Rubetria and, with courage, determined to report it to the Duke himself, her father.
That was the beginning of tragedy.
Molga Diolus learned of it beforehand. She seized Rebecca and beat her until she barely clung to life.
Molga showed the gasping, wheezing Rebecca to her, and whispered in a voice like that of a demon…….
“You wretched, foolish child. Lilia and Ricky called friends to celebrate your birthday, and you should have been grateful. They were just playing around—and you want to run squealing to tell on them?”
“P-please, ma’am. I, I didn’t mean to tell…….”
“Are you lying to me? You spilled everything to this stupid maid about that day!”
“I only told Rebecca. I wasn’t trying to tell Father, I swear…….”
“This maid was on her way to your father’s room to report it when I barely caught her. So what excuse do you have?”
“I, I’m sorry…….”
Rebecca was locked away in solitary.
“Grandmother, please let me see Rebecca. I was wrong. I was wrong, so please…….”
Molga came four days later to find Rubetria begging like a dog. She smiled and brought Rebecca to show her, but…….
“R, Rebecca……?”
She was already dead. Three days and nights without medical care, without a sip of water, she’d simply given out.
“That girl died miserably because of your worthless prattling,” Molga said.
As Rubetria watched in shock as a cart carrying the body—hastily covered with straw—rolled away, Molga issued her warning.
“Our kind Rubetria. If you don’t wish to see innocent people die because of your careless words, you’ll learn to conduct yourself properly from now on.”
Already withdrawn from years of abuse, Rubetria had thought to herself then.
‘That’s right……. Rebecca died because I was stupid. I should have kept quiet like always, played dead like I’ve always done…….’
From that point forward, Rebecca’s death only made Rubetria retreat further into silence and shame. It was absolutely maddening.
“Miss?”
“Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought.”
At my response, Rebecca’s eyes went wide.
“Has your memory returned?”
“Hmm? Ah…….”
A mistress who’d been treating her formally, as though they’d never met, suddenly turned warm overnight—Rebecca naturally assumed my scattered mind had finally returned.
Well, she wasn’t entirely wrong. I smiled and nodded.
“One good sleep and my head cleared right up. Thank you for worrying about me.”
“Thank heavens. I asked the cook specially to prepare all your favorite dishes today, so please eat well.”
“Hmm…….”
I surveyed the formidable spread before me with misgivings.
A whole roasted turkey sat in the center. Before it lay two thick-cut lamb chops, beside them a salmon steak, accompanied by a half-full glass of White Wine.
Land, sea, and sky all in one place? And this at nine-thirty in the morning, for breakfast?
‘What is this, a joke?’
It was ridiculous, but Rubetria had always eaten like this. Who was I to complain?
“Say, Rebecca.”
“Once you’ve finished, I’ll bring a Butter Bun with lots of Blueberry Compote—it’s made from fresh blueberries that just came in from Camilla Farm!”
“Right, but…….”
“Oh! Why that expression? Don’t you feel like jam on bread today? What about a chocolate cake piled high with macarons?”
Rebecca punctuated the cheerful proposition with a bright gesture, winking at me.
Her desperate effort to seem more upbeat than usual for a mistress who’d attempted suicide was touching to witness.
Still, there were limits.
Though I was grateful for Rebecca’s thoughtfulness in preparing such an elaborate breakfast, I waved it away.
“I’m sorry, but take it all back. Since you’ve gone to the trouble, you eat it.”
“What? You won’t eat breakfast, miss?”
I rose from my seat and stretched slowly as I spoke.
“Starting today, I’m going to lose weight.”
…….
Rebecca fell silent, and when I glanced back at her, sure enough—those ash-grey eyes blinked with an odd expression as she fumbled to nod.
Her thoughts were transparent: ‘How many days—or hours—will our young lady’s three-day diet last this time?’
“I understand. I’ll have them take these away for now, and if you get hungry later, just say the word.”
“That won’t happen. I’m not talking about starving myself—just adjusting my diet.”
“Adjusting your diet, miss?”
“Yes. Starting tomorrow, I’m doing an hour of fasted exercise each morning. So bring my breakfast to my room at nine-thirty, after the workout. The menu: half an apple and a plate of oatmeal.”
“Y-yes?”
“Don’t you have paper and a pen? Would you like to write that down?”
Rebecca’s wide eyes blinked, then she rummaged in the pocket of her maid’s uniform and produced a small notebook and pen.
I began again.
“Breakfast at nine-thirty. Half an apple and a plate of oatmeal.”
“Yes, yes!”
“Lunch at one o’clock. Bring me the standard main course from the kitchen that day, but tell the chef to season it lightly. Here…….”
I pointed to the lamb and salmon steaks on the table.
“No sauce on steaks like these.”
Next, the enormous turkey.
“Don’t salt the poultry.”
“But then there’d be no flavor, miss!”
“That’s fine. How do you expect to lose weight if you eat everything delicious?”
“W-well, I suppose…….”
Despite her confusion, Rebecca dutifully noted my words in her book.
“And keep it simple—one menu is enough, no need for all this excess. Don’t bring wine. No foods with flour whatsoever. Obviously no bread from now on, and just a tiny bottle for jam each week—this big!”
I spread my arms wide to convey the diminishment, shaking my head firmly.
“……and don’t bother making new Compote. Oh, and one more thing.”
I retrieved the bundle of snacks I’d carelessly tossed behind the bed—Rubetria’s indulgences, hastily wrapped in table cloth.
Thunk.
I set it at Rebecca’s feet, and the bundle crinkled with the sound of crackling paper.
“W-what is that?”
“All my secret snacks I’ve been nibbling on every minute of every day. Take it away and throw it all out.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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