Chapter 4
Apellemeon was one of the founding noble houses of the empire and was considered to have the noblest bloodline.
Blessed with abundant resources, vast lands, and great prestige, it was the envy of many—but it lacked one crucial thing, heirs.
My father had been the sixth-generation only son of the family, and the few daughters that existed had mostly married into foreign households, leaving us with virtually no close relatives.
After my parents passed away, Julius Fenton—technically a stepson of a distant branch—managed to wedge himself in by claiming he was my uncle.
To put it simply, Julius had inherited a junior baron title, which his stepmother had brought in as part of her dowry decades ago, and with it, the dubious honor of being “Apellemeon’s closest relative.”
And five years ago, he seized the opportunity of a lifetime—he claimed the Apellemeon estate for himself. Naturally, he bribed the right people and even managed to obtain a permit stamped with the emperor’s seal.
But as long as I was alive, Julius was only a proxy head. If he wanted to secure lifelong control of Apellemeon, he needed another plan.
“Father must have told you already. We’re practically engaged, and in a few months, we’ll be having a grand wedding,” Bartol said, clearing his throat.
The sensation of his fingers twitching as they held my chin sent a chill down my spine.
“He told me to forget my childish ways and behave with dignity, like the next Duchess of Apellemeon. That we should try to get along.”
Whether I leaned back or not, he kept talking.
“So I’ve decided to be a loving husband to you. Life will get a lot easier for you. Isn’t that good news?”
Bartol’s eyes scanned my face thoroughly.
His slightly dilated pupils, flushed cheeks, and the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed—it was all different from the boy I once knew.
Maybe it was due to his father’s persuasion or the changes that come with adulthood, but he now genuinely saw me as a romantic interest.
“Bartol, take your hand off me before you speak.”
“Let’s be honest here. You’ve got no reason to refuse, do you?”
He leaned in closer as he spoke.
“You’d be the Duchess of Apellemeon. You’ll have a room much better than this, with at least four maids. You’ll want for nothing—clothes, shoes, you name it. Do you really think you have a better option than this?”
Bartol spoke as if he knew exactly what I wanted.
It was laughable, him trying to act generous with my house and my wealth. But coldly analyzing it, his offer did hold some practical value.
In the past five years, Julius had replaced not only the estate staff but also some of the retainers. It wouldn’t be easy to drive the Fenton family out and manage the domain alone.
And trying to find another husband? Julius held the duchy’s seal—there’s no way he’d agree. Even if I demanded he hand over the seal as an adult, no one would support me. There were plenty of noble precedents where a proxy was kept until the heir was twenty-five or even thirty.
Bartol might have been unpleasant in my eyes, but objectively speaking, he wasn’t hideous.
In the end, many women in my position would’ve accepted the arrangement proposed by Julius and Bartol.
In my first life, I didn’t find a way to overcome this situation right away. So I agreed to the engagement, and later ran away under the cover of night. The time I spent pretending to smile as Bartol’s fiancée became a lifetime’s worth of shame—I even saw it in my dreams.
I had no intention of repeating that pathetic history.
“I said, I don’t—”
“Got it. You want to go to the ball, right?”
Demeira, who had been watching from the side, frowned deeply, but Bartol raised an eyebrow and asked.
“…What?”
“This imperial ball is going to be extravagant. Did you hear the Empress introduced the sorcerer who healed the Duke of Serve’s daughter?”
At the mention of the House of Serve, my head instantly cleared.
They had only one daughter.
“…You mean Grace Serve?”
“Yeah, Lady Grace. As a reward for saving her, the Duke had a golden statue made in the Second Prince’s likeness and gifted it to the Empress. The ball’s meant to show it off. It’s also to honor the knights weary from border wars… so the imperial family is sparing no expense.”
Any thoughts about the engagement disappeared from my mind. My awareness sharpened.
Grace had possessed a body.
It was certain. In my first life, Grace Serve had died around this time due to an accident.
This was precisely the moment when the two lives began to diverge.
In the second life, Grace was saved by a sorcerer and recovered, then appeared in the capital’s social scene.
As I suspected, she came into this world. Her possession must’ve started right around when I returned.
I quickly ran the dates through my head again.
It would take her several months to fully recover and arrive in the capital. I needed to be fully prepared before that.
I had two top priorities. First, reclaim the family from Julius. Second, save Karsiel from death and win him over as an ally.
To do that, I had to meet Karsiel first.
“Alright.”
I cut Bartol off mid-rant about the imperial ballroom layout and said:
“…What?”
“Let’s go. Take me to the ball.”
Demeira furrowed her brow, and Bartol flushed slightly.
“Th-that means… as my fiancée, then…?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll never be introduced that way. I’m going as the Lady of Apellemeon.”
I spoke coldly.
I had no time to waste on a fool like Bartol. If I wanted to minimize hassle, I had to make reality sink in fast.
“What the hell? Didn’t you hear a word I just said?”
Bartol snapped, eyes wide.
“If you just want to take things slow, I can give it a month…”
“I’m rejecting you.”
I looked him straight in the eye.
In two lifetimes, I’d interacted with beggars, merchants, and all kinds of people. So yes, I could be blunt.
“R-reject? Why…?”
“Your nasty face, your empty head, your gaudy clothes that scream ‘money buys class,’ your vulgar obsession with wealth, your uselessness without the family name—should I keep going?”
Without even pausing for breath, I spoke. Demeira and Bartol’s mouths dropped open.
“You… since when did you start thinking such wicked—”
“Brother, I know he’s stupid, but even so…”
Bartol’s left hand clenched into a fist.
The confusion in his eyes swiftly turned into rage.
“You’ll regret saying that. Forever.”
He growled low and suddenly let go of my chin—only to grab my neck tightly.
“As your future husband, I’ll discipline you myself! Mari, bring the whip!”
He didn’t even turn his head—just stretched his hand out. Mari, who had been peeking from behind the door, flinched visibly.
But I wasn’t particularly afraid. In my first life, I had feared Bartol. Now, with years of experience, I could see right through him.
Even in rage, he was clumsy. His bloody eyes looked fierce, but his tone was unnatural, like a poor imitation. His darting gaze constantly checked my reaction.
“…If you’re going to threaten me, decide whether you want to crush my jaw or block a vital point.”
With that, I peeled his thumb off with my right hand and began reciting knowledge I had picked up from my hunting guild days.
Bartol’s brow twitched.
“If you’re going to close distance like this, make sure your opponent’s fully restrained first.”
“…What?”
“Check if they can use both hands. For example—”
Poke.
While Bartol hesitated, I struck, jabbing my index and middle fingers into his eyes like lightning.
“AAAAAGH!”
It wasn’t even deep, but he screamed and clutched at his face.
“You crazy wench—!”
“Oh, please. Your eyes didn’t even pop.”
I massaged my neck and stepped back.
“You really think you’ll get away with this? I’ll call the knights—no, I’ll get my mother—!”
“Should I tell your dear mother that the necklace on your neck is fake, and the real one she gave you is at a pawn shop?”
“…What?”
Bartol froze, staring blankly.
Bingo.
I had guessed it because the supposedly top-grade gem looked off.
“Should I add that you gambled away the dowry, sold heirlooms from your maternal family, and even borrowed money from Viscount Gideon with high interest?”
Bartol’s face turned ashen. His lips trembled, as if asking how I knew.
Demeira and Mari were both visibly shaken too.
‘How do I know, you ask?’
I chuckled internally.
In my second life, I found the documents while cleaning up the Fenton family’s baggage after they fled. Never thought it’d come in handy like this.
Grace Serve… now I understand a little why you were so confident.
Knowing secrets of the world—it truly was a powerful weapon.
“If you’re scared, then be a good boy and take me to the ball.”
