The reflection before him still felt like a stranger. Kieran stared at himself with an unfamiliar gaze.
The first thing that caught his eye was his hair, which swayed lightly above his neck, shorter than he remembered.
His clean face had a rosy complexion, and his skin was white and smooth, all the way to his fingertips. There stood a young man with a flush on his cheeks, as if he had never felt the harsh winds of the North.
Though he had somewhat grown accustomed to it by now, when he first saw this face again, Kieran almost believed he hadn’t gone back in time but had become someone else entirely.
It was understandable, given how drastically different his last remembered appearance was from the one he saw now.
Sunken cheeks, cracked lips devoid of color, and a pallor that could rival a corpse’s—his face had been so ghastly it resembled a living corpse with nothing but open hollow eyes.
In reality, it wasn’t far from the truth. The fact that he had no memories following that meant he must have died shortly after.
Kieran exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. Yes, that was surely the case.
‘It feels like a nightmare.’
Why had he been brought back? He had never wished for something like this, not even in passing.
In his past life, his time at the Benoit Duchy had been grueling.
No one at his home, the County of Albrecht, had liked Kieran. But at least there, they had wealth, and they could afford to make the bare minimum investment in him for appearances’ sake.
But the situation at the Benoit Duchy was different. The Duchess, forced into an unwanted marriage, had never been pleased with her husband, and in their already impoverished state, Kieran was nothing but an eyesore to them.
His four years of married life were nothing short of imprisonment. His wife, who had treated him with cold indifference, was rarely seen after their wedding, and the servants took every opportunity to look down on him.
With no help from his family or support from his wife, who held the real power, Kieran was helpless. His title as the master of the castle was in name only, offering no real authority.
The North was cold and impoverished. Kieran, who had lived in a warm land, gradually grew ill, but no one paid him any attention.
Lying alone in a desolate and lonely room, he coughed up blood and laughed bitterly. He had known he wouldn’t live a happy life, but he hadn’t expected it to be so miserable.
Death, looming so close, was both terrifying and oddly welcome. It had been a long, painful, and meaningless existence. Kieran closed his eyes without a shred of regret. It was the fourth year since he had come to the Benoit Duchy.
Why a life that should have ended was now continuing, he couldn’t understand.
After experiencing several bewildering moments and finally realizing that he had returned to the past, he was shocked. And how could he not be?
“Your marriage partner has been decided, Kieran.”
Hearing the declaration he remembered so vividly from four years ago left Kieran stunned. Everything was horrifically the same.
What was going to happen next was as clear as day. He would be sent back to that land, where he would remain until he died again.
But surprisingly, the first thing Kieran did, after gathering his scattered thoughts, was to start growing his hair.
In the capital, men didn’t grow their hair long, but in the North, where it was bitterly cold, everyone, regardless of gender, let their hair grow. He had learned this during his four years in the North in his previous life.
Everyone found it strange that Kieran appeared to accept the marriage with Alyssa so willingly.
Of course, he was in despair, and if he could, he would have run away. But he knew better than anyone that it was impossible.
He had already tried everything in his previous life to avoid this marriage, and all had failed. He couldn’t even succeed at dying; instead, he had been sent back to the past.
Walking into his grave willingly was far from pleasant, but it was inevitable.
As he packed his modest belongings, Kieran recalled his previous life.
He had been younger and more naive, shrinking into himself in the unfamiliar land of Benoit.
The unjust mistreatment and coldness he endured were frustrating, but he never fought back. He acted as if he were a criminal, deserving of punishment.
It had been his desperate struggle to survive. He had no power, but he wanted to live, so he kept a low profile.
‘In the end, it meant nothing since I died anyway.’
Kieran let out a small laugh. Once again, he found himself in the Benoit Ducal Manor, in the very bedroom where he had drawn his last breath, four years ago from the time he remembered.
The future probably wouldn’t change. Alyssa would continue to avoid him, just as she hadn’t come to him on their wedding night. And she wouldn’t in the future either.
Accepting this reality brought him a strange sense of relief. If nothing would change no matter how hard he tried, then there was no need to make the effort.
Kieran rose from his seat. It was a bright, moonlit night.
Without waiting for someone who would never come, he left the room without hesitation.
After the ceremony, Alyssa, having changed her clothes, headed straight for the training hall without a moment’s hesitation.
For a typical couple, the wedding night would follow the ceremony, but Alyssa’s situation was different.
He would find even the sight of her unbearable, let alone sharing a room for the wedding night. Alyssa had no desire to impose that on him.
Even while the new room for Kieran was being prepared with the utmost care, Alyssa didn’t go near it. It wasn’t a place she dared to enter.
In the dead of night, when everyone else was asleep, the training hall was bathed in cold blue moonlight.
Normally, Alyssa should have been asleep by now, but the day’s routine wasn’t finished due to the wedding.
Swish—!
The sharp sound of a blade slicing through the air echoed ominously. Alyssa continued to swing her sword as if fighting an invisible enemy.
The Benoit Duchy was often at war. As the Duchess, Alyssa always had to be at the forefront, so she couldn’t afford to skip a single day of sword training.
Her movements as she cut and thrust were precise and efficient. But rather than being impressive, they seemed almost grotesquely brutal.
Her swordsmanship had little in common with the formal, disciplined techniques taught to the knights of the capital. Instead, her movements resembled those of a beast rather than a human.
Alyssa’s sword showed no mercy, no respect for her opponent. It was driven purely by the intent to tear apart and kill, no matter the cost.
The beasts she fought were several times larger than humans, with hides so tough that most swords couldn’t even pierce them. The techniques used to slaughter such monsters were far from noble.
As a result, anyone who witnessed the Benoit knights in battle would often look at them as if they were monsters themselves. Alyssa understood that reaction well. Only a monster could face another monster.
Her intense training left her clothes soaked with sweat. Her hair blew in the wind, revealing her pale gray eyes.
After a long day of work and grueling training, her vision blurred with fatigue.
Even so, Alyssa didn’t stop swinging her sword until she finally collapsed from exhaustion.
Deciding it was time to head back, she tried to stand but found herself trembling and too weak to move.
In the end, she only managed to walk a short distance before sitting down, leaning against a pillar in the corridor. The sky was still dark.
‘I need to get back before morning,’ she thought.
Alyssa remained determined not to let Kieran see her.
Although Kieran’s behavior at the wedding had been unexpected, Alyssa didn’t believe for a moment that he was comfortable looking at her.
He had probably endured it out of a sense of duty to see the ceremony through. Surely, he had steeled himself to face her calmly.
That only strengthened her resolve to avoid him, to keep herself out of his sight.
She needed to return to her room, just in case Kieran decided to take a morning walk. She couldn’t let him see something as unsightly as her first thing in the morning.
However, her body, exhausted from being pushed to its limits, refused to move. Without any chance to resist, Alyssa slipped into sleep.
When she awoke, the sky had turned a bluish hue, and Alyssa was startled.
The training hall was as quiet as it had been before she fell asleep, but what shocked her was the jacket draped over her body.
Alyssa immediately recognized its owner. Only one person in this castle could afford to wear such expensive clothing.
She had fallen asleep so foolishly that she had been noticed by Kieran. Having collapsed from training, she must have looked even more disheveled than usual. Yet instead of screaming or cursing at her, Kieran had given her his jacket.
Worried that the scent of the beasts she had been fighting had soaked into the fabric, Alyssa fretted over the kindness Kieran had shown. She wondered if he had seen her face. She felt sorry towards him that she couldn’t keep her promise to stay out of his sight, even for a single day.
Alyssa was convinced that Kieran still disliked seeing her and had merely tolerated the situation.
So, when Kieran appeared at the dining room that morning she usually used alone , she was completely taken aback.
“I’ve come to have breakfast with you.”
Why?
Kieran is such a sweetheart 😭