NOVEL WEB Chapter 6 - Wendy's Suffering
Scene 006: Wendy’s Suffering
Inside the carriage on the way back to the mansion, Wendy couldn’t tell whether the trembling came from the rattling wheels or her own body.
“I’ve really messed up this time… What have I done?”
She had accompanied Tristan to the Duke of Isaachel’s estate—a task usually reserved for the butler or a senior maid. For some reason, Tristan had chosen her, the youngest servant, to accompany him.
That wasn’t the real problem, though. The real issue was the mistake she had made.
Wendy was no stranger to mistakes; she made them almost daily. But today, She had knocked over a teapot right in front of the Duke’s daughter, Lady Isaachel.
“Ugh, you fool… What were you thinking?!”
She scolded herself harshly. The only saving grace was that the Duke’s daughter had been kind enough to forgive her, even offering to pay for the spilled tea. But Wendy’s real concern wasn’t Lady Isaachel. It was Tristan.
Even though the young lady had forgiven her, that didn’t mean Tristan would. He never let anything slide. Wendy clenched her hands tightly in her lap, bracing herself for what was to come.
“But…”
Despite her certainty about the punishment, Wendy couldn’t stop replaying the earlier events in her mind.
“Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”
Those gentle words… they hadn’t come from Tristan. He would never say something like that. If anything, Wendy wished it had been a ghost. To Wendy, Tristan was scarier than any ghost. A ghost that looked like him but was kind? She’d rather face that than her real master.
Still, maybe—just maybe—there was a chance she could avoid punishment. Gathering her courage, Wendy decided to take a risk.
“Um, um…”
“Wendy.”
“Please forgive me, my lord! I accept any punishment you see fit!”
Her hope vanished in an instant. The moment Tristan spoke her name, Wendy knew that her fate was sealed. His voice was low, cold, dripping with arrogance. This was the master she feared—the tyrant.
“Punishment, huh” Tristan muttered, pulling something from his coat. It was a short whip, the one he used to discipline the servants. Wendy steeled herself for the blow. But no matter how long she waited, the blow never came.
Instead, she heard him murmur, “This isn’t satisfying.”
“What?!”
Wendy’s eyes widened in shock. To her disbelief, Tristan tossed the whip out the carriage window. His gaze lowered to meet hers, and he spoke again.
“It appears physical punishment no longer serves its purpose with you.”
“Wh-what?”
Wendy’s anxiety spiked. When she looked up, his cold eyes seemed to pierce right through her.
Oh no, does he know…?
Quickly, she bowed her head so low her forehead nearly touched the floor of the carriage. She didn’t care about pride.
“You can hit me, yell at me, slap me, I’ll take it! But please… please don’t send me away. Don’t send me back home…”
She begged him, her voice trembling. Of course, Tristan knew. He knew exactly what she feared most.
His voice was like ice. “I don’t like you.”
Wendy flinched.
“You cry at the slightest thing, you’re always sick, and you’re weak because you’re so scrawny.”
She trembled, paralyzed by the quiet intensity of his anger.
“Tell me, what am I supposed to do with you?”
Wendy realized that Tristan hadn’t changed. If anything, he seemed crueler than before. Now, he held her fate in his hands.
With a trembling voice, she spoke. “I-I have a family… Please, Count… Please let me keep working…”
“That’s not my problem.”
“Count, I’ll do anything… anything you ask…”
“Anything?”
At her words, Tristan smirked.
“What a joke. What can you do? Break dishes? Stumble around like a fool? Or spill tea all over expensive things like today?”
“…”
“Wendy. Answer me.”
“Sob… If you just let me… I will try my best…”
Tears streamed down her face and her words were barely coherent between her sobs. Every second felt like an eternity.
Tristan remained silent as the carriage pulled to a stop at the mansion. Finally, he stood up slowly.
“I’ve made my decision.”
“Hic?!”
“I’ve decided your punishment.”
Wendy looked up, her heart pounding as Tristan prepared to step out of the carriage, as if to leave her behind.
“Please… don’t abandon me…”
Before she could beg again, she heard him speak.
“You’ll be my personal maid from now on.”
“I-I’ll do anything… Huh?”
Personal? Personal maid? Me?
Wendy couldn’t wrap her head around it.
Tristan sighed. “Didn’t you say you’d do anything? From now on, you’re my personal maid.”
“Y-yes… Huh?! Me? But…”
“If you don’t want to, I’ll throw you out.”
“No, please!” Wendy’s voice cracked with desperation as she frantically shook her head. “I’ll be your personal maid. I’ll do anything!”
From the lowest servant to the master’s personal maid in a single day. Wendy couldn’t tell if this was a dream or reality.
“But why…?”
Her confusion deepened. By the time she snapped out of it, Tristan had already stepped out of the carriage.
“What are you waiting for? Hurry up.”
“Y-yes!”
By the time Wendy scrambled out, the sun had already set, casting long shadows over the dimly lit Ruelberta mansion.
She cautiously asked the looming figure ahead of her, “Count… why… why do you want me as your personal maid…?”
“Because it’s easier.”
“E-easier?”
“It’ll be easier to torment you that way.”
Tristan turned, smirking like a boy who had just found a new toy.
“I’ll keep you by my side, so I can torment you personally.”
===
Ever since I got trapped in this game, one thought has consumed me: How do I survive as Tristan, the character everyone despises?
You’d think I could use magic, given that this is a fantasy world, right?
I wish.
But there’s a catch…
The Ruelberta family is cursed. We can’t use magic.
Generations ago, when the Ruelberta name carried nothing but an empty title, our desperate patriarch struck a bargain with a demon – one that would forever alter our bloodline. The deal was simple: make the Ruelberta family the wealthiest in the land.
Blinded by greed, the family head got his wish. The Ruelberta estate flourished, and every venture became a success.
But the price was steep.
Every Ruelberta heir is born without the ability to use magic.
In the end, the family became rich enough to live in comfort for generations. But all the men—grandfathers, fathers, sons—were left with nothing but wealth and a curse that stripped them of magical power.
When my younger sister Sora told me this backstory, I laughed until my sides hurt.
Now, stuck in the body of Tristan, the “magic cripple,” it’s not so funny anymore.
Call it karma, I guess.
I’m almost in tears, thinking about how “grateful” I am to my sister.
This body is a burden in itself – overweight and chronically weak. Even the simple act of standing leaves me winded and sweating.
In short, I’ve been left with a character the creator has completely abandoned.
Even if I somehow survive, the players will come for me. And I know exactly how cruel and ruthless they can be.
Survival is nearly impossible… unless I change the script.
There’s only one option left.
“Count, we’ve arrived.”
So, this is it.
As I awkwardly stepped out of the carriage, the first thing that hit me was the overwhelming scent of grass. In front of me loomed a vast forest.
It was like a fortress, the trees stretching endlessly, towering like giants standing tall with spears in hand.
“You’ve arrived, Count,” a voice said.
I turned to see Bella.
She looked just as beautiful as she did in the original story.
“Yes,” I replied.
“But… did you come alone?” Bella asked, glancing at the carriage, clearly searching for someone.
I knew who she was looking for. She could never resist anything cute.
“I left the servant behind. She still needs more training.”
“Hmm… I wasn’t really that curious. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullying the poor girl. Anyway… You said you were sick, but you seem quite healthy to me.”
“The worse the illness, the less obvious it is.”
“…Is that so?” Bella sighed, shaking her head in exasperation.
“This place is the heart of the Isaachel Duchy. Not just anyone can step foot here. Especially not a villain like you. You should never have set foot in this sacred place.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
Even I, without magic, could tell this place wasn’t ordinary.
She’s definitely wary of me, I realized as the wind blew sharply from deep within the forest, almost warning me not to go further.
Bella must have felt it, too.
“Count, it’s not too late to turn back. If you continue, you might spend the rest of your life in a sanatorium.”
Her words served as a clear warning, spoken on behalf of the ruler of this paradise.
This place was dangerous for someone like me.
I opened my mouth to speak.
“Bella.”
“Yes?”
“Do you still hate me?”
“Yes, I do. I hate you.”
Her answer was immediate, raw, and cutting—sharp as a blade.
I didn’t flinch. Instead, I asked her another question.
“Do you despise me so much that you’d wish for my death?”
Bella paused, as if memories of her hatred and resentment toward me flashed through her mind. Then she shook her head.
“No. If I did, I would’ve thrown you into this forest long ago. I’m not like you.”
Her eyes were clear and beautiful, and I knew, with certainty, that at this point in the story, Bella had no intention of killing me.
“I’ve warned you, Count. Whatever happens here is on you. But… you won’t die.”
She made me a promise.
She might hate me, but she wouldn’t kill me.
“As the daughter of the Isaachel family, I swear it.”
Bella took a deep breath, her voice ringing with authority as she spoke.
“I, Bella Isaachel, hereby acknowledge you as a guest of Eden.”
The forest shuddered, as if waking from a long slumber, preparing to greet an uninvited guest in the middle of the day.
“Welcome to Eden, Count,” Bella said, smiling.
“However, I can’t promise this place will welcome you.”
It seemed I truly was an unwelcome guest in more ways than one.