said sullenly.
“Dana is hungry…”
“Oh… You were hungry.”
“Aren’t you bored by yourself?” I looked at her sadly and asked kindly.
Then Diana, who only blinked her blue eyes, shook her head.
“Sister, I like touching your hair.
It’s pretty.”
I froze at the unexpected words.
“…Pretty?”
“Uhm! Sister is pretty! You’re so pretty!! It’s sparkling!”
When I saw Diana wriggling with both hands raised, I couldn’t say anything.
For some reason, I felt like crying…
Have I ever heard of someone saying I’m pretty?
“It’s the first time…”
In fact, when I was young, I thought I was very pretty.
Every time I looked in the mirror to wash my face, I was amazed at my reflection.
With light pink hair that fluttered softly like watercolors and deep pink eyes that shimmered like jewels, as well as the white skin, a sharp nose and lips were pretty.
But the children didn’t say that I was pretty, and I thought it was because everyone was jealous of me.
Until someone says my hair color was the most common brunette in the Empire.
When I heard that, the 5-year-old I was shocked and asked every child in the orphanage.
〈Emily, how do you see my hair and eye colors?〉
〈Huh? You have brown hair and brown eyes.〉
Not only Emily, but the other children, they all gave the same answer.
Unable to accept this, I ended up going to Jack, who I was not close to, but seemed unlikely to lie.
〈Hey, Jack… Are my hair and eyes brown in your eyes too?〉
Seeing me getting tired of asking the kids in the orphanage the same question all the time, Jack answered right away, wondering as if waiting for the question to come to him as well.
〈Yeah.
Your eyes are dark brown, and your hair was a slightly lighter, soft brown.〉
〈…I see.〉
Only then did I admit that my eyes were strange.
Still looking in the mirror, I couldn’t find any brown color in my hair and eyes, but I didn’t speak about it to anyone.
‘Because I’m the weird one.’
But just because I understood it with my head, didn’t mean I fully accepted it with my heart.
The central square that’s close to the information guild ‘Terencium’ on the busiest street in the capital.
Among them, in front of the fountain, there were many street artists who danced, sang, or painted and sold their paintings to make money.
After the orphanage was ruined and I became part of Terencium, I noticed an artist as I walked down the street.
Even the spots that seem to occupy one-third of the nose or face, or even the thinness of hair remaining on a bald head…
A cruel artist who draws a very realistic portrait without thinking about the heart of the person that would pay him!
〈 Mister, please draw me exactly as you see.〉
I took courage and sat down in front of him.
And for the first time that day, I was able to see my face in the eyes of others.
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