The Stepmother Who Changed the Plot

Chapter 4: The Twins’ Happiness

Almira was taken aback by the gift. Instinctively, she accepted the flower and whispered a soft “thank you.” Adele and Albert were equally stunned—this was the first time their mother had accepted a present from them. They had braced themselves for another rejection. Wide-eyed and filled with newfound courage, the twins spoke up.

Adele, voice trembling:

“This morning, I saw you looked tired… So… I brought a flower.”

Albert, afraid she might not understand their intention, quickly added:

“I… I was helping in the garden, and Miss Mary gave me the flower. She smiled so happily… We just… we just wanted you to smile too.”

That one long sentence seemed to drain Albert, and he paused briefly.

“We want you to be happy, Mother.”

Finished speaking, both children stared at the floor, their tiny shoulders tense. They didn’t dare look up. As for Almira, she remained frozen, bewildered. This—this was the first personal gift she had ever received in her thirty years of life. She had always been the giver, never the recipient. And now, something fragile inside her heart began to stir… to open.

Her gaze slowly drifted to the two small figures before her—Adele and Albert. Her children. They, more than anyone, had suffered: fatherless, unloved by their own mother, dragged along a twisted path, made to bear the consequences of a broken world long before they had learned to protect themselves. Just twenty-two, yet already tasting bitterness.

*Perhaps,* she thought, *just perhaps… I could start seeing them as family.*

Almira smiled gently and said,

“Well then, could you two fetch me a glass of water? I wouldn’t want this lovely flower to wilt too soon.”

The twins froze, then lifted their round little heads in disbelief. Was this really happening? Had their mother… smiled at them? Albert frantically tugged at Adele’s sleeve, silently asking if they were dreaming.

Then, without another word, the two children dashed out of the room with such eager, waddling steps that Almira couldn’t help but chuckle. It had been so long since she’d felt this—joy, however fleeting. She looked at the rose in her hand. *Perhaps being thrown into another world wasn’t so terrible after all.*

She reached for the bell pull. Not long after, a wave of servants flooded the room. The Viscount, obsessed with appearances, had refused to cut down the staff even amidst financial strain—fearful, no doubt, of the gossip of neighboring nobles. And now, with his pride swallowed by desperation, he was marrying off his daughter to a merchant—the very type of man he so often sneered at during dinner parties.

Almira’s eyes found Helen, her personal maid. Calm and cunning, Helen was the one who carried out Almira’s subtle commands, the one who had manipulated the twins into tormenting the female lead’s siblings. She was a woman who existed solely for her mistress—no unnecessary emotions. Just the way Almira liked it.

“Would you like to change first or have your meal, my lady?” Helen asked, careful not to presume, though she understood Almira better than anyone.

“Let’s change first,” Almira replied.

“As you wish.”

Helen turned and issued swift commands. Everything moved in seamless coordination. A basin was brought, towels laid out. Almira allowed her body to relax and moved through the motions as if guided by instinct—memories inherited from this body’s former owner.

Silk draped over her skin, precious jewels adorned her fingers, and her hair was coiled into the latest fashionable style. In that moment, she transformed. *Not unlike those magical girls in fairy tales*, she mused.

Just as a maid presented her with a perfumed fan, the twins returned—slightly out of breath. Apparently, they had taken their task seriously, from choosing the most beautiful glass they could find to fetching water themselves. But the effort had taken time.

Fearing their mother might change her mind, they hurried back, each insisting on carrying part of the glass. In the process, the once-full cup became only half-filled. Their foreheads glistened with sweat, hair clinging to their skin, cheeks flushed pink. The maids in the room were taken aback—some even held their breath, bracing for Almira’s infamous wrath.

Adele and Albert carefully held out the glass, eyes sparkling with hope.

“Mother, we brought you the water,” Adele said softly.

Almira took the cup, smiling faintly.

“Well done, both of you. Thank you.”

She placed the flower into the water-filled glass—a simple gesture, yet one brimming with unspoken affection. Around her, the servants stood in silent shock. This wasn’t the Almira they knew—the cold, severe lady who never allowed the twins near her chambers. And yet… here she was, kind and warm. Perhaps the world had shifted slightly.

Helen said nothing. Servants had no place in questioning their master’s whims. Still, even she couldn’t help but notice the joy in the children’s eyes.

Almira paid no mind to their thoughts. As long as she didn’t act *too* out of character, it was fine. She handed the glass to Helen.

“Place it on my bedside table.”

“Yes, my lady,” Helen replied, taking the glass with both hands and heading toward the bed—no questions asked.

Almira turned back to the twins. They were still staring at her in quiet awe. Now that she looked closely… they were quite adorable—soft, round little things. And today, thanks to them, her mood had lightened.

Perhaps a small reward was in order.

She glanced at the ornate wall clock. Three o’clock.

“Have you had your afternoon snack yet?”

It was impossible to count how many times Adele and Albert had been surprised today. Their mother… was *concerned* about them?

Adele, trying her best to look pitiful, replied:

“No, Mother.”

“Perfect,” Almira said with a smile. “Then join me for a meal, won’t you?”