Chapter 4

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: There Is No Mercy 4

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There Is No Mercy

Chapter 4

I glanced sideways, and there was Bellieta tilting a glass of the exact same wine I was drinking.

She couldn't hold her liquor worth a damn, yet the sight of her bringing that strong wine to her lips looked utterly foolish.

I'd figured Bellieta would be a pain at the party tonight like always, so I'd been racking my brain for a way to shake her off—and settled on booze.

If I pretended to drink the hard stuff, she'd definitely follow suit without fail.

With no tolerance to speak of, she'd barely get a few sips in before stumbling around in a daze and passing out.

Then I could haul her off to a room. After that, I'd finally have some time alone to sort through and make sense of everything that had happened.

And sure enough, the moment I raised my glass, Bellieta picked up the exact same one. When I tilted mine back, she did the same.

I pretended to sip, letting it touch my lips before spitting it out, over and over.

Bellieta's face gradually flushed to match the dwindling wine in her glass, and before long, she collapsed in a heap, eyes fluttering shut.

Everything had gone exactly according to plan.

I stared down at the crown of her head as she slept, then lifted my chin.

I grabbed a passing maid and told her to prepare a room for the passed-out Bellieta, then separately summoned a maid from the Bozbon household.

The maid's eyes flew wide with shock the instant she saw Bellieta, and she hurriedly scooped her up and hurried off to show her to the room.

I'd thought it'd be a hassle, but it wrapped up more anticlimactically than expected.

I watched blankly as Bellieta was carried away, staggering in the maid's arms, then turned my gaze elsewhere.

Anyway, dealing with the drunken Bellieta wasn't the pressing matter right now.

What truly mattered was figuring out the mess I was in.

For starters, some decent way to fend off Bellieta whenever she came sniffing around from here on out...

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Lady Sierra."

The voice came from behind me, tickling the back of my neck.

I turned my head at an angle, and a man with a soft smile entered my view.

In that instant, a phantom ache shot through my perfectly fine shoulder.

I pressed a hand to it, furrowing my brow.

"Two months, is it?"

Everything about this man in my sights filled me with disgust—and betrayal.

Reiton Bladia.

The moment I laid eyes on him, a hallucinated screech echoed in my ears alongside his voice.

The shoulder he'd stabbed throbbed, and the sensation of his hand shoving me lingered vividly.

He was the man who'd comforted me after I lost my parents to Bellieta, when I was drowning in grief and pain.

The man who'd held me alone after my parents died, patting my back as I vented my despair.

The man who'd always had my back, ignoring the ever-present Bellieta to look only at me.

Back then, I'd believed Reiton truly loved me.

And I'd truly loved him in return.

But those feelings had shattered in an instant.

All the consideration he'd shown me had been laced with lies—a betrayal through and through.

'You were nothing but a tool to get to Bellieta.'

"You've only grown more beautiful."

Empty words.

I might've fallen for lines like that back then, but now they just reeked of pretense.

Me, taken in by those hollow eyes?

I swallowed a hollow laugh and opened my mouth.

"Long time no see, Bladia Marquis."

"Won't you call me Reiton, like old times?"

He'd always wanted his name to roll off my tongue easily.

He'd wedged himself between Bellieta and me, flashing smiles my way to mask his desires.

His filthy desires.

Reiton had wanted Bellieta from the start, no doubt.

More precisely, the prestige of the Bozbon family.

His ambitions burned hot; he'd always talked about how he wanted the Bladia family elevated to ducal status while he was still marquis.

To that end, he'd showered Bellieta with attention—and the same went for me when we met.

But I'd thought Bellieta had no real interest in him.

The reason was simple.

She ignored anything I didn't have, and men who didn't whisper love in my ear held no appeal for her.

Reiton was sharp; he'd quickly realized how to claim Bellieta.

That to get to her, he had to go through me.

And in the end, Reiton got the Bozbon duke's daughter he'd craved right into his arms.

A wave of nausea hit me.

I tilted my glass and forced down a swig.

Otherwise, it felt like I'd hurl right then and there, my stomach churning violently.

After knocking back a sip, his eyes curved softly.

"I didn't know you liked wine."

"I don't. I'm just drinking it since it's in my hand."

"Is that so? What a shame. I'd been planning to invite you to share some from my private stock."

I stared into his eyes, then hardened my expression and replied lightly.

"With Bellieta, too?"

At my blunt question, his lips thinned for a split second in surprise, but he recovered swiftly.

Slipping his leisurely smile back on like a mask, he parted his lips.

"I was inviting you, Lady Sierra. But if you'd like, the Bozbon duke's daughter can join us. You two are always together, aren't you?"

How thoughtful.

Even considering my friend.

A sneer bubbled up in my throat.

He didn't just not mind—he'd be thrilled.

He knew if he called for me, Bellieta would tag along, so his invitation was obvious.

Plain as day.

"Thank you for the consideration, Bladia Marquis. Sadly, Bellieta's already left the hall. She dozed off mid-wine."

"Is that right?"

His reply came with a perfectly neutral face, but I clearly caught his eyebrow twitch.

"Yes. So drinking with Bellieta will have to wait."

If he'd had any real interest in me, Reiton would've said we could drink without her.

But that wasn't what came out of his mouth.

"What a pity. We'll postpone it, then. You probably wouldn't want to drink alone with me anyway."

There it was.

If he'd truly been interested in me, he'd have assumed a private drink from the start—instead of suddenly fretting over my "discomfort" now?

What nonsense.

"Then arrange a time next, Bladia Marquis."

"Call me Reiton, Lady Sierra. Feel free to be casual."

Get lost.

"I'll get to that eventually, Bladia Marquis."

"......"

He looked put out by my response and fell silent, eventually turning away.

I watched his retreating back steadily.

Luck really wasn't on my side.

Not even a full day since returning to the past, and I'd already seen two of those wretched faces.

To think I'd once mistaken that man's acting for sincerity.

Just looking at the face of the bastard who'd deceived and used me when my judgment was clouded by family loss turned my stomach.

"Hoo......"

I swept back my fallen hair and rose from my seat.

It was a party I was only attending out of obligation.

No need to linger.

Better to head back to my room, rest a bit, clear my head, and think about what to do next.

As I gauged the direction with weary eyes and took a step, a strange voice drifted to my ears.

"......You're right. It's identical. Isn't it?"

"No kidding. How in the world...... this time too, exactly the same......"

"That last party wasn't a coincidence, I tell you. It's deliberate. Totally deliberate."

"How can she copy her friend like that? Gives me chills."

The irritating whispers reached my ears.

Nothing worth noting, yet it felt aimed straight at me.

I halted my steps and turned to look.

There were the ladies, staring blatantly and murmuring among themselves.

The ones chattering away startled when our eyes met, dropping their gazes in a hurry.

I stared them down, then pivoted the toe of my shoe. I headed their way, approaching slowly.

As I neared, they widened their eyes in surprise, exchanged a few words, then brazenly lifted their heads.

Their audacity drew a scoff from me.

Mere moments ago, they'd been painting me as Bellieta's pathetic shadow, and now they acted like nothing happened.

I stopped close to the three ladies and slowly swept my gaze over them.

Confirming each face one by one, I spoke leisurely.

"What did you just say?"

Say it to my face.

Their startled eyes darted around.

The three eyed each other nervously for a while, scrambling for excuses. Finally, the green-haired girl in the middle—the ringleader—spoke up.

"We didn't say anything, Brilloxen Lady. Just casual chat......"

"Liars."

I cut her off, and the girl who'd spoken widened her eyes.

I gave her a thin smile and delivered the finishing line.

"......are pathetic, Richel Lady."

"When did I lie......?!"

"Of course, not you, Richel Lady."

I smiled faintly and shifted my gaze.

Meeting each one's eyes in turn with a grin, their flinching shoulders were comical.

No confidence, no courage.

Yet behind my back, they'd spewed gossip, turning me into Bellieta's shadow.

All while knowing nothing of the truth.

"So whose mouth was it?"

"Th-that's......"

Ladies from insignificant houses.

Strip away the noble label, and they were nobodies.

Even the one called Richel standing before me would've been forgotten without her marriage to some fifty-something count.

Moreover, the fabric of their dresses and the quality of their jewels screamed cheap at a glance.

The best they could manage, no doubt.

I slowly raked my eyes up and down, blinking lightly. My lips curved into a smile.

"Haven't you heard? Even in a noisy hall, ears are sharp. You should always watch your words."

"It's a m-misunderstanding, Brilloxen Lady!"

"I'm dying to know what kind of misunderstanding that is."

As their lips pressed into thin lines, my expression hardened gradually.

"I'd like to know the difference between what I just heard and the 'misunderstanding' coming out of your mouths now."