Chapter 2

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Returning Once More
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I awoke to the gentle sunlight. The curtains of the canopy bed fluttered, blurring my vision.

I wet my slightly dry, parched lips with my tongue and stretched. Then, I sat up, leaned my back against the headboard, and stared blankly ahead. The soft silk of my nightgown against my skin and the plush feel of the pillows behind me finally made me realize that this was reality.

A stark contrast to the morning of the day before, when I had been too excited about having my own room to sleep properly.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Before I could even respond, the door opened.

It was Marie, my designated personal maid. The woman, her cheeks dotted with freckles, met my gaze without so much as a greeting. She merely scurried to the window and drew back the curtains.

The Marie of the past had been the same. She was always haughty and aloof. In all her time serving me, her master, she never once offered a kind word.

It wasn't as though she made up for it by diligently attending to her duties. She simply acted indifferent, as if I weren't there, and made it obvious that she only did what she was told with great reluctance.

In fact, the harsh comparisons between Roena and me stemmed largely from her failure to serve me properly. She had all but abandoned me until I began my formal lessons on the life of a noblewoman. And this was the maid assigned to help me.

But in my ignorance, I never sensed the injustice. How could I, having set foot in a nobleman’s residence for the first time in my life, have possibly noticed such a difference?

On the contrary, I thought, *So this is how the young lady of a noble house lives,* and I tolerated their arrogant behavior. Of course, now I can see right through their intentions.

I called to Marie in a quiet voice.

“Your name is Marie, you said?”

She turned her head to look at me.

“Yes, Young Miss.”

Her voice, mumbled through pouting lips, was utterly stiff. The discontent and contempt in her eyes were so blatant it was almost laughable. It’s a wonder the past me never noticed such blatant insubordination. Such a raw emotion.

“You don’t look well.”

At my words, Marie tilted her head in confusion.

“Pardon? No, I’m not ill at all.”

“Your neck seems to be bothering you a great deal.”

“No. Not in the slightest.”

“Is that so?”

I smiled sweetly and beckoned Marie over with a gesture. As she approached me with a bewildered expression, I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her face close to mine.

“Oh, I thought you didn’t greet me because your neck was sore. But looking at you now, you seem perfectly fine. Yes, that’s it. You should bow your head lower, just like this.”

“Ah, Young Miss, that hurts. Please let go.”

“I will. But from now on, be sure to greet me properly when you enter. Do you understand? Now, hurry out and bring me my washing water.”

At my words, Marie shot up and practically ran outside to fetch the water. As if she had planned to make a fool of me today, the water she brought in the brass basin was cold. There were no flower petals scattered on its surface, either.

So I tipped the brass basin over, pouring its contents onto the floor.

*Splash.*

Marie stared at me, dumbfounded. Her eyes said she had no idea what she had done wrong.

“Young Miss?”

“Bring it again.”

Marie glanced at the floor, an incredulous look on her face, before my prodding sent her hurrying out again. But the water in the basin she returned with was just as it was before. So I tipped it onto the floor again. Then, in a gentle tone, I said to her:

“You’ll have to bring it again.”

“Young Miss, if something has angered you, please tell me. Why are you doing this?”

“You know very well why, don’t you?”

In the past, Marie had tormented me by preparing washing water unfit for a noble lady and a dress unsuited for the occasion. And on a very important day, no less—my first breakfast with the Count’s family.

The memory is still vivid. The look on my stepfather’s face when he couldn't speak after seeing me enter the dining hall. He had winced as if he’d seen something he shouldn’t have and cleared his throat.

Startled, I had stood rooted to the spot, terrified.

And my mother, who had bowed her head in shame. The highlight was Roena's innocent question, asking if I had trouble getting dressed.

No wonder so many people had burst into laughter as I made my way to the dining hall.

Back then, I hadn't even realized it was mockery. I’d thought they were welcoming the new young lady and had even smiled brightly back at them, making the foolish assumption that everyone was so kind.

Was that the day it all began? The day the staff of the residence started comparing me to Roena. The day they dismissed and scorned me as the idiotic young lady who didn't even know how to wear a dress properly.

It must not have been difficult for them to curse me as the daughter of a whore-like woman who had thrown herself at my stepfather with nothing but her body. They must have been irked that an uneducated girl who knew nothing of etiquette was acting as the eldest daughter simply because she was a year older.

But what would happen if, unlike before, I appeared in proper attire?

“Oh, dear. At this rate, I’ll be late for breakfast. Now, who should I hold responsible for that? And what do you suppose Father will say when he learns of this situation? So, prepare everything properly. This is the last chance I’m giving you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

With a pale face, Marie nodded and began to move quickly. My threat to tell my stepfather everything seemed to have worked.

A short while later, Marie returned with the ‘preparations’ done right and spoke politely, watching my expression carefully.

“Young Miss, your washing water is ready.”

A proper morning, one the Cisse of the past had never experienced, was beginning.

***

After getting fully dressed with Marie’s help, I could feel the gazes of the whispering maids on me.

Lest they find any fault, I lifted my chin slightly and walked with the utmost arrogance. I had mastered the etiquette of a noble house long ago in my past life.

I may not be as graceful or beautiful as Roena, but I’m not so clumsy as to be criticized. They would not find a single flaw in my stride.

“This way, please.”

The Head Chamberlain, sent by my stepfather to escort me, spoke in a deferential tone. As someone who worked closely at his side, he was impeccably polite compared to the others. This behavior surely stemmed from my stepfather’s devoted attitude toward my mother.

As I followed his lead down the wide hall toward the dining room, I happened to cross paths with a knight. A man with striking light silver hair and eyes that shone a verdant green, reminiscent of lush forests.

I knew him. Though he, of course, did not know me yet. Ah, my heart was pounding. I raised a hand to press down on my chest, which was beating wildly as if it had found its master.

*You foolish Cisse, have you still not learned your lesson?*

The chamberlain stopped and looked at me, puzzled by my fixed gaze on the knight.

“Is there a problem?”

I shook my head. I gave the knight a brief nod and walked past him as if nothing had happened. His cool eyes, devoid of any emotion, flickered with interest for a moment before returning to their usual placidity.

He was probably curious about my presence, a girl he had never seen before. After all, there was now another young lady in the residence besides Roena.

But that thought would be fleeting; he would soon forget I ever existed. Because the one at the end of his gaze would always be Roena.

Alright, I’ll be honest. I—the me of my past life—loved that knight.

Rustein Halberd.

The Knight of the Clear Sound, nobler than any other. A foolish man who, despite his splendid appearance, was so steadfast that he looked at only one person. To the point of destroying herself over a vicious, unrequited love.

But now, it is merely a feeling born of the past. Having learned that he was beyond my reach no matter how hard I tried, there is no need to cling to such attachments. So I passed him by easily. Or rather, I tried to.

As we neared the dining hall, the chamberlain announced my arrival in a loud voice. Simultaneously, a large door decorated with beautiful patterns opened, revealing a spacious room adorned with magnificent furniture and jewels.

Inside sat my stepfather, my mother, and Roena. The moment I saw my mother, I broke into a wide smile, scurried over to her, and kissed her lovely cheek.

“Did you sleep well?”

My mother returned the kiss on my cheek with a smile.

“Did you, my lovely songbird?”

I lowered my head shyly at her whisper.

After the affectionate greeting with my mother, I turned my eyes to my stepfather. His mouth was set in a hard, tense line, his lips trembling faintly from the strain.

His back was ramrod straight, perhaps in an attempt to show some semblance of courtesy to his stepdaughter, and it was as imposing as his large frame.

In my previous life, I had been so overwhelmed by the sheer presence he exuded that I couldn't even greet him properly, cowering behind my mother and trembling.

I never even considered that his grimace was due to my improper attire, nor did I realize that he, too, was nervous because of me. I saw only his cold lips and eyes and misunderstood him as a ‘scary person.’

So when my stepfather, unable to bear the awkward atmosphere, had managed a smile, I had let out a very unladylike shriek. Utterly foolish.

With the most elegant gesture I could muster, I curtsied and smiled brightly at him.

“Did you sleep well, Father?”

I saw him flinch at the word ‘Father,’ but I ignored it and ran over to him, kissing his rough, bearded cheek.

Roena was once praised as an angel for her charming way of speaking and her gentle actions. Is there any rule that says I cannot be the same?

“Yes. And you? Did you sleep well? Was anything uncomfortable?”

“Not at all. It was wonderfully comfortable.”

My stepfather smiled, finally looking relieved. I curtsied once more, lifting the hem of my dress slightly, before returning to my seat, pretending not to notice Roena, who had been waiting eagerly for me to greet her.

After a servant helped me into my chair, I turned to the somewhat dejected Roena as if I had only just noticed her and said in a calm voice:

“You are…”

“I’m Roena, Sister.”

“Sister? Why such a stiff title…”

I crinkled the corners of my eyes and smiled sweetly.

“Please, call me Cisse.”

At the same time, I swallowed the words that had risen to my throat.

*Because I would rather die than ever be your sister. Isn’t it better to just use our names, as if we were strangers?*

“Cisse? How could I dare call you by your name, Sister?”

“No, really. I don’t want our relationship to be defined by stiff titles like ‘sister.’ It feels so distant, doesn't it? Besides, we’re only a year apart.”

Roena’s pretty cheeks flushed red. She looked at me with a face full of emotion—there were even tears welling in the corners of her eyes—and said:

“Alright. I will.”

This heartwarming scene brought a smile to everyone’s lips. Even my mother was watching us, her eyes sparkling.

I cupped my hands over my cheeks, feigning excitement, as if I were overjoyed to have gained a father and a sister-like friend.