RSHV 13

Chapter : 13

“My… name… how…?”

Belona willingly held out her hand, not caring in the slightest how unbelievably filthy Julian looked.

Julian looked at Belona beneath her slightly lifted hood and seemed to realize something.

It was only natural. Belona knew that she looked quite similar to the former daughter of the Count Rosentine family—her own aunt—after seeing her portrait gathering dust in the warehouse.

Especially the color of her striking hair. It was so identical that it could never be imitated.

“My name is Belona Rosentine.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Ruils visibly flinch.

Ah, damn.

It wasn’t as though she had intended to deceive Ruils, but she felt a little sorry that he had ended up learning her name like this rather than through a proper introduction.

“…Did you come here to warn me not to dare covet the Rosentine name?”

The boy had finally regained his senses, and Belona had to admit that he possessed an impressively strong will.

Looking into his blazing blue eyes, which looked so much like her own, Belona answered indifferently.

“No. I’m going to make you the next Count.”

“…What?”

“What on earth…?”

The first came from Julian, and the second from Ruils.

Watching Julian, who had answered her with such venom only moments ago, suddenly collapse into such an innocent and bewildered state, Belona inwardly sighed at the long road ahead.

But what could she do?

This was the path she had chosen. Enduring it was her responsibility as well.

“Your arm hurts, doesn’t it? Get up first. Let’s go get you treated.”

At Belona’s urging, Julian reached out as if possessed and unconsciously grasped her hand.

Belona pulled him up.

“Be careful.”

Just as her balance seemed about to falter, a firm hand lightly caught her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

When Belona looked up, the brown eyes staring back at her held an emotion she couldn’t quite identify—perhaps unease, perhaps confusion.

Ruils opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but soon stepped back without a word. He fiddled with the hilt of his sword and looked around, taking up a vigilant stance.

She wondered whether it was really that surprising for him to learn that she was the daughter of the Count Rosentine family. But then again, he had probably only vaguely assumed that she was some noble lady. Now that the name of an actually distinguished family had suddenly come up, it was understandable that he was shocked.

“Sir Ruils, you’ve already done everything you needed to do. There’s no reason for you to stay here. You defeated all the villains, after all.”

“You never know. If they come back, you have no means of defending yourselves.”

“I feel like I’d be taking up too much of your time if I kept you here any longer.”

Belona had a conscience too.

Of course, Ruils had followed her of his own accord. If she had truly wanted to get rid of him, she could have simply gotten into the carriage first and left without him.

But she hadn’t done that. She had judged that he could be useful, and in the end, it had turned out to be an excellent choice.

If she had dealt with those thugs herself, she would have driven them away somehow, of course. But she most likely wouldn’t have been able to resolve the situation as cleanly as this.

I was just going to openly reveal that I’m the daughter of Count Rosentine and drive those bastards away.

In any case, Belona did have a considerable grievance against Ruils, but that was a story from her previous life.

Thinking that she needed to have a proper conversation with Ruils again, Belona decided to deal with the immediate problem first.

As she brushed the dirt off Julian’s clothes, which were torn to shreds in several places, she muttered,

“This is what happens when you recklessly come alone and try to knock on the Count’s door.”

She had neither great affection nor any particular resentment toward the man known as her father, but seeing Julian in this state made her feelings toward him lean increasingly toward disappointment.

I thought they would just threaten him a little and throw him out. I never imagined they would treat a child this brutally.

She hadn’t expected Julian to be treated this coldly, which made her feel even worse.

Count Rosentine, a typical aristocrat, had probably done nothing more than give the order to “deal with Julian.” Naturally, those who received the order would have tried to deal with him however they saw fit.

Was it really this serious? Is that why he later stubbornly refused even part of the inheritance I sent him?

The death of Count Rosentine, who suffered from a chronic illness, had been an unavoidable event.

It was Belona’s father who had hated his younger sister for running away with a knight of the family for love. Belona herself had held no particular feelings toward her aunt, so she later sent Julian part of her inheritance.

But he had rejected it outright.

Instead of simply thinking, “If he doesn’t want it, then forget it,” I should have looked into things properly back then.

Now that she knew, she decided that from the next cycle onward, she would pay more attention to Julian.

Julian still stood there blankly, unable to fully accept Belona’s declaration that she would make him the next Count.

The words he finally managed to say were, in the end, a question.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“I said I’m going to make you the Count. Count Rosentine. I don’t think I can make it any clearer than that.”

“That’s exactly what I’m asking. What do you mean?”

Even in such a miserable state, with fear still lingering in his trembling eyes, the moment he regained his senses, he insisted on saying everything he wanted to say.

Belona liked that about him. To survive in the world of nobles, one needed at least that much stubborn determination.

“You know, I’m several years older than you. Is that any way to speak to your older cousin?”

Belona clicked her tongue as she took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped away the blood still running down his forehead.

Julian flinched at her indifferent attitude, then immediately softened his tone.

“What on earth… are you talking… about? How…?”

“It’s simple. I’ll put your name back into the family register and designate you as the heir.”

“Me? Why?”

Belona could deeply sympathize with the confusion written all over his face.

She had been exactly like that when she first returned to the past.

Unable to accept the sudden change in circumstances, she had spent her second life repeating that none of it made any sense, like a broken machine.

“Because you have the right to it. No matter how much Father denies it, you are Rosentine blood. Even among all the collateral branches, you are the person with the strongest claim to the title.”

“But the Count tried to throw me out.”

Ah, that problem. It was something they needed to clarify properly—whether the Count had truly ordered this to happen, or whether those who received his instructions had acted on their own.

Belona suspected that the person directly responsible for this matter was that man—the Count’s aide, who handled much of his work in his stead.

Even so, it doesn’t change the fact that Count Rosentine was the one who gave the order.

She didn’t expect Julian to develop any affection for the Count anyway, nor did she particularly expect their relationship to improve.

“Yes, my dear father did do that. But I won’t. I’ll protect you. Come with me to the Count’s estate.”

Belona placed the bloodstained handkerchief into Julian’s hand.

“Why…? Is there something you want? I don’t have anything.”

That was definitely the way a child would speak.

Belona immediately began wondering what she should do about his utterly innocent tone and the way every single one of his emotions was written plainly across his face—making him the perfect target for anyone who wanted to take advantage of him.

“What I want is… for you to take care of me in my old age.”

“What?”

“Father is apparently planning to bring in a husband for me and marry me off. I don’t want an arranged marriage like other nobles, so you can just make sure I’m fed and taken care of.”

Julian’s deeply furrowed expression gradually turned into one of disbelief. It seemed that he was finally beginning to understand what Belona was saying.

“You’re saying that because you don’t want to get married, you’ll bring me into the Count’s family and help me get recognized as the heir?”

“Yes. You asked me what my motive was, so I answered. That’s what I want. I want you to repay the favor I do for you.”

If it was easier for him to think of it as a kind of transaction, she had no problem making him see it that way.

It would certainly be easier for him to understand this than if a young—no, practically childlike—noble lady suddenly appeared and told him that she considered him family and wanted him to come home with her.

“So? It’s a good deal for you, isn’t it? You’re coming with me, right?”