Chapter 4

After recalling the memories of my past life, I locked myself in my room for several days and took some time to sort through my thoughts and sense of self.

When I had read the original novel in my previous life, I certainly hadn’t hated Ian Wadeiros.

If anything, I had thought quite highly of him.

Even though we had been tangled up in a bad relationship all this time, once I remembered my past life and learned to view the situation objectively, my feelings toward him changed as well.

The irrational hatred I had harbored for him disappeared, leaving only objective judgment.

He did have a tendency to look down on others a little, as befitted an overpowered protagonist, but at his core, he was a sensible, generous, perfectly normal person.

As the sole heir to House Wadeiros, which was famous for its upright chivalric spirit, he certainly lived up to the family name.

If he had been even slightly twisted in character, Annabelle probably wouldn’t have survived.

No matter what sort of underhanded tricks I pulled during our sparring matches or how many insulting things I said to him, he would simply ignore me, saying, “Personal feelings shouldn’t come between people who cross swords.”

He was simply a person of an entirely different caliber from the old me, who had been full of all kinds of petty emotions.

Therefore, saving him from danger wasn’t something I particularly disliked doing.

But I feel sorry for myself, too.

Even after remembering my past life, I thought I had every right to indulge in a little self-pity.

There was no such thing as a villain without a reason for becoming one.

My mother, Caitlin, had married a poor, fallen nobleman and given birth to Rieard. A few years later, she lost her husband.

After that, she became obsessed with finding another nobleman to latch onto and improve her life.

She desperately seduced Marquis Abedes, succeeded in becoming pregnant, and gave birth to me. Then, by clinging to him and crying and begging, she managed to squeeze this mansion and a considerable amount of wealth out of him.

After successfully improving her circumstances by catching a high-ranking nobleman, Caitlin began dreaming even bigger.

From the moment she discovered that I had a talent for swordsmanship at a very young age, she and Rieard worked together to brainwash me relentlessly.

They told me that if Annabelle Nadit failed to come first in the swordsmanship tournament, she was a worthless person.

When I was young, they even made me sign a document giving all my inheritance rights to Rieard, telling me not to settle for an ordinary life for no reason.

Even after Caitlin died in a carriage accident, Rieard continued forcing me to aim for first place.

“Mother died without even getting to see you come in first because you didn’t work hard enough. So you absolutely have to come in first in the end and show her in heaven.”

All this time, I had trained desperately while being consumed by guilt over something that wasn’t even my fault.

And I hated Ian even more because I believed he was the reason I couldn’t take first place.

But the person I should have hated was someone else entirely.

Being related by blood doesn’t mean you have to have a good relationship.

If I had things my way, I wanted to cut ties with Rieard completely and live like complete strangers, no matter that we shared the same mother.

But all the family wealth was under Rieard’s control, and I didn’t have a single penny to my name.

The more I think about it, the more unfair it feels. Isn’t he seriously trash? He swallowed up all the prize money I earned from the swordsmanship tournaments, yet he couldn’t even give me a single maid?

Memories came flooding back of Caitlin indulging in all kinds of luxuries while never even buying me a proper set of clothes.

No wonder that although the mansion itself was fairly grand and spacious, my room was small and dark, with barely any proper furniture.

Caitlin and Rieard would shut me away in the training grounds all day while the two of them went to expensive restaurants or went shopping together.

Every time that happened, I clung to the sword because I believed that if I won first place in the swordsmanship tournament, I could finally become happy and spend time with them.

And this was how it had turned out.

A pitiful woman who, despite possessing exceptional swordsmanship, had no foundation of her own and therefore had no choice but to cling to Rieard.

I don’t want to live with that bastard anymore.

I made up my mind.

I’ll ruin all of Rieard’s schemes before the swordsmanship tournament. Then I’ll leave this mansion.

Once everything was settled, I had absolutely no reason to continue living with Rieard.

Maybe I’ll become a swordsmanship instructor. I can make money doing that and enjoy plenty of romance. Handsome men are everywhere I look, after all.

As long as I didn’t get tangled up with Ian Wadeiros, I was barely a supporting character in the original story—a supporting character among supporting characters who didn’t even appear in the main plot.

So I could simply enjoy this world in my own small way and live peacefully.

After carefully laying out my plans for the future, I left the mansion humming to myself.

It was time to go see Ian.

All I had to do was give him a subtle warning about the danger, throw out a few insults to avoid suspicion, and come back.

At the Wadeiros training grounds, the knights were in the middle of their training.

“Have some snacks before you continue.”

Aaron came over, cheerfully pulling a cart.

“I personally asked my father to prepare these special snacks.”

Aaron’s father was the head chef of House Wadeiros.

All the knights stared at the cart Aaron was pushing with eager expressions.

“Pfft—”

The knights who had participated in the High Priest’s escort the previous day couldn’t contain their laughter. They let out snorts before quickly glancing at Ian.

The cart was piled high with sandwiches.

“I have a little quiz for you.”

Aaron playfully addressed one of the young squires, who hadn’t participated in the escort the previous day and was enthusiastically cheering without knowing what was going on.

“Suppose you’re eating a sandwich and find a cockroach inside. How many would make you feel the worst?”

“What? Um… two? Three?”

The squire tilted his head and added,

“Wouldn’t it feel worse the more there were?”

“That’s exactly what I thought, too, but yesterday, someone gave me a profound revelation.”

Aaron answered with an unusually serious expression.

“The correct answer is…”

But Aaron couldn’t finish.

Ian’s red eyes flashed as he spoke ominously.

“If you don’t want to be specially beaten after bringing special snacks, shut up.”

“My goodness. I’m hurt.”

Aaron let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Wounds inflicted by people should be healed by beasts, shouldn’t they…?”

He gazed wistfully at the sky with a sorrowful expression.

“With that in mind, I’m considering raising about ten pigeons as pets. What does everyone think?”

“Aaron Rainfield.”

Ian drew his sword.

“You’re my sparring partner for the entire afternoon.”

Aaron went pale and backed away, but he still didn’t stop talking.

“Wait, what is Lady Annabelle doing? She used to come here every day to spar! Why isn’t she coming to save poor Aaron Rainfield in this moment of crisis?”

At Aaron’s words, the corners of the knights’ mouths all began twitching.

Ian was blunt and disciplined, but he was indifferent to those around him and tended to generously overlook most things.

Even so, it was quite difficult to joke around with him or play pranks on him. His skills were exceptional, he clearly separated his personal and professional affairs, and his expression was cold enough to intimidate people.

There were only two people in the world besides the Duke and Duchess of Wadeiros who could openly say whatever they wanted to him:

Annabelle Nadit, second place in the swordsmanship tournament, and Aaron Rainfield, his deputy.

The two had something in common: although neither could match Ian, they were both extraordinarily skilled fighters whom everyone acknowledged.

“Could Lady Annabelle perhaps be bedridden because of all those poisoned needles that got stuck in her back yesterday?”

Aaron asked in a desperate tone.

Ian replied coldly,

“She’s perfectly fine, so don’t worry.”

“Oh?”

The moment Ian finished speaking, Aaron’s dark blue eyes lit up with interest.

“How did you know Lady Annabelle was fine?”

For the briefest moment, a trace of bewilderment crossed Ian’s eyes.

Aaron didn’t miss it.

“You didn’t happen to spend the entire night tossing and turning while thinking about Lady Annabelle’s unexpected antics, only to send a servant out in the middle of the night to find out whether she was all right, did you?”

Fortunately, Ian didn’t have to answer Aaron’s rapid-fire questions.

“Ian Wadeiros!”

Someone had effortlessly slipped past the guards and barged into the Wadeiros training grounds without any formal procedure or warning.

“I’m here!”

A clear, fearless voice rang out.

Light purple hair tied high, dark blue eyes, and the same old gray training clothes she always wore.

Annabelle Nadit had appeared again after quite some time.

Ian let out a faint sigh, then quietly looked around before speaking.

“Stand back. I’m the only one who can deal with her anyway.”

The Wadeiros knights had already parted like the receding tide and taken seats along the edge of the training grounds.

Of course, they hadn’t started out this cooperative.

There had been plenty of hardliners who insisted they couldn’t simply allow Annabelle to keep showing up whenever she pleased without properly applying for a sparring match, acting as though she owned the place.

But every single one of them had been defeated by Annabelle’s sword.

Not one of them had been able to stop her from charging at Ian, and the conclusion was always the same.

Ian was the only person capable of subduing her.

Aaron might have been able to hold out against her for quite some time, but he never volunteered.

“I simply can’t bring myself to raise my sword against that lady. For some reason, I feel a strange resonance between our souls.”

He always used that utterly ridiculous excuse and refused to step forward.

So at some point, the knights had simply settled into the habit of watching the two of them spar with great interest, then laughing as Annabelle was defeated and stormed out while hurling all kinds of insults.

But today was strange.

Annabelle stood properly in front of Ian according to the formal procedure for a sparring match.

Considering how she normally charged straight at him without the slightest concern for etiquette, this was definitely unusual.

She slowly drew her sword.

Unlike usual, the knights watched the two facing each other in tense silence.

“What? Oscar made sandwiches himself? And he sent them to the knights as special snacks?”

Leslie, the Duchess of Wadeiros, slammed her hand down on the table.

Sandwiches made by Oscar Rainfield, the head chef of the ducal household, were not something one could easily get a taste of.

She immediately ordered him to make one for her as well, but the reply came that they had run out of ingredients and that he would have to go shopping again before preparing one for her in an hour.

“How am I supposed to wait an hour? I’m going to the training grounds. He must have left at least one!”

Determined to steal even one of her son Ian’s sandwiches if necessary, Leslie sprang to her feet.

She was the Duchess now, but she had originally been born a poor commoner.

Therefore, even at her age, she had absolutely no intention of worrying about dignity when it came to food she wanted to eat.

As an accomplished swordswoman herself, she knew that no matter which maid she sent, they would be slower than her.

So she raced off at full speed and arrived at the training grounds for the first time in quite a while.

The sight unfolding before her eyes surprised her slightly.