As a young teen, I was always heavily praised for being beautiful, for being smart, for being a kind aristocrat, for being the heiress of the Claremont Dukedom.

There was no person that I couldn't win over with my bright, innocent eyes and bubbly yet elegant personality.

But in truth, I'm not actually as innocent nor as kind as I make myself to be.

I'm very clear about this point. I'm an arrogant, prideful, vain, and petty girl—who likes cats and desserts so much that I could die to pet the fluffiest cat in the world or taste the most delicious strawberry shortcake.

Wow. That went from 0 to 100 real quick. But once again, I promise, my words are 100% true.

So then, one might ask, why are my most significant weaknesses not cats or desserts?

Well, you see, since I like them so much and since my father is a duke, I've already seen the cutest cats that I could find in the continent, and I've also already eaten so many types of desserts that it would take me a lifetime just to write them down.

So although I still like cats and desserts very much, these definitely aren't the easiest weaknesses to exploit.

Anyway, back to the serious and deep topic of my childhood.

Smooths out beard.

I was very arrogant when I was a young child, and I almost always showed my arrogance and displeasure outwardly, throwing tantrums whenever something didn't go my way—of course, I was still showered with compliments, sincere or not.

But you know, my love for cats and desserts transcends any of my pride or arrogance.

So there was one time that I remember, back when I was still the winner of 'The Most Stereotypical Rich Heiress' award, around the age of 6 or 7.

I was outside, playing in the grassy fields with my dolls when I saw an injured young kitten leaning against a tree in the distance from the corner of my eye.

I was at once overwhelmed by pity and throwing down my dolls, I immediately ran over to the hurt animal and carried it back to the mansion.

But at the time, the physician that we hired was on a break, and since I didn't want to take any chances, I ran into my family's dukedom holding the kitten in my arms in search of the physician myself, despite my parents' and brothers' protests.

When I finally found the physician in his home, the man had been stunned to see me.

I could almost reenact what he was thinking at the time:

The stupid, arrogant daughter of the duke came to see me with a hurt kitten in her arms?! Are you sure that you aren't the one that had injured it?

Is this a dream?! Will I see pigs flying the next second?!

Reenactment end.

And yeah, I completely understand his thoughts.

But even as he was probably thinking this in his mind, he had sincerely praised me with a warm smile on his face.

I knew it was sincere because I could feel it in my bones that it was different from his usual flattery.

There was a feeling, the warm feeling of having made my reputation raised and being looked to. 

It was pure ecstasy. 

And the physician's smile. It was so full of joy and admiration, and it was so infectious that I had smiled back, something that I probably had never done before to a lowly plebian.

That was the first time I felt the delight of being praised... and at once, I became addicted.

Addicted to the satisfaction of being superior. 

I was no longer content with just being a noble.

I wanted to become a noble that was praised from the bottom of everyone's hearts.

A person that not only had a noble status, but also a noble character.

At least from the outside.