She wanted Charlize to brush her hair a little longer, to share even more interesting stories.
Charlize was unlike the ladies-in-waiting who had served as her childhood playmates.
True, Charlize had spoken many harsh things before departing on her trip, but…
In truth, being insulted for the clothes or ornaments she possessed didn’t feel like much of an insult to Aria. Having spent nearly her entire life without the privileges befitting a duchess-to-be, she knew nothing of true luxury.
“Tsk, tsk. What’s the point of being born so pretty?”
Sometimes, she even found Charlize’s malice fascinating. No, because she was so pure, she even distorted it into something positive.
*Wow, she must think I look pretty, too—seeing me through the eyes of such a beautiful duchess-to-be.*
That was merely Aria interpreting things with an impeccably kind heart. In reality, the Charlize of the past had viciously tormented her as well.
However, having experienced the current Charlize since her return, Aria once again leaned toward optimism.
‘It seems the duchess-to-be is just clumsy at expressing her emotions.’
Yes, that had to be it. She hadn’t been able to articulate herself properly until now; perhaps only now could they truly communicate.
Aria clenched her small fist tightly.
‘I want to… get closer to the duchess-to-be.’
In the books she read, friends shared secrets with one another. Could she dare to hope for such a bond with the duchess-to-be? Would it be wrong to even dream of it?
While Aria sat blushing shyly, cupping her cheeks, the door swung open.
“Aria.”
“Oppa!”
Aria turned her head, her face softening.
Askin looked momentarily taken aback by his sister’s flushed, glowing expression—a look of genuine excitement he rarely witnessed. It was the same expression she reserved for welcoming him home after his long, arduous duties.
Askin approached the window.
Aria spoke breathlessly, her comment appearing out of the blue.
“It seems the duchess-to-be is just clumsy at expressing her emotions… she doesn’t strike me as a bad person.”
“……What on earth is that supposed to mean?”
Until a moment ago, Askin had come to ask his sister if the duchess-to-be had uttered any new nonsense. He couldn’t help but be bewildered by Aria’s assessment. He found himself genuinely curious about what exactly that woman had said to her.
“It’s true. The duchess-to-be doesn’t seem like a bad person at all.”
“Aria, that woman did… to you last time…”
“Oppa, you said it yourself. Do you remember? When I was so terribly sick five years ago and barely managed to open my eyes, I was terrified that I would suffer like that again.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“You told me, ‘You are healthy again now. So, always look at the present, Aria.’”
“…….”
“……Aren’t you looking at the present, Oppa?”
Aria did not know what kind of things the past Charlize had done to Askin, nor did she know the pitch-black, bottomless abyss of her tyranny. Askin and everyone else in the castle had gone to great lengths to ensure those horrors never reached her ears.
That was why Askin was left speechless.
Aria, keenly sensing the shift in her brother’s demeanor, studied his expression.
“……Don’t just bully her so much. Can’t you treat her just a little, just a little warmer?”
She caught his sleeve with a weak, hesitant tug, looking up at him while gauging his reaction. Watching his sister act with her customary gentleness, Askin was, quite strangely, reminded of Charlize.
*“Let go!!”*
The memory of her being dragged away against her will, the realization of the treatment she had received from her maternal grandfather—it felt ridiculous. How could he dare compare his frail, sheltered sister to her?
“……Aria, I’m worried because you are far too soft-hearted.”
…Even so, he couldn’t banish the thought. Askin felt that his own state of mind was shifting. Perhaps it was simply because he hadn’t been in good health lately, weakened by the strain of overwork.
Although Askin knew full well that a master of the blade should not be this weary, he stubbornly turned away from the truth.
In the past, Charlize had tormented him with persistent, tyrannical cruelty.
It was far too late for Askin to untangle his confusion; the years behind him had been defined by nothing but pain and humiliation.
Askin turned his head.
Aria followed suit, and the two siblings stood side by side, gazing out the window.
“Oh? It’s the duchess-to-be.”
Charlize appeared in the garden below.
Aria had spotted her first, just as she passed through the main gate.
Naturally, Askin’s eyes locked onto Charlize.
*‘……Is she angry?’*
Charlize was marching along, stomping her feet.
It was a familiar sight to Askin. Whenever he failed to react to her tyranny, she would always storm off exactly like that.
Yet, why did it feel different? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason.
Perhaps it was the expression on her face—flushed with a mixture of huffing anger, genuine worry, and sullenness, rather than the vicious mask he was accustomed to.
“Duchess-to-be… is she heading back now?”
“I suppose so.”
As she stomped along, muttering to herself, Charlize stumbled.
She staggered enough to startle Askin, who had been watching in silence.
A protruding stone had caught her foot.
She didn’t fall, but she huffed even harder, glared at the stone, and then kicked it in a fit of temper.
It was a burst of strength that made even Aria gasp in surprise.
Then, Charlize grabbed her ankle, yelping in pain from the kick.
It was, quite frankly, a comedy of errors.
If he were to recount this to any noble in the capital, they would surely accuse him of talking nonsense. The villainess Charlize, bested by a stone?
“……Look at that. I told you that duchess-to-be has a foul temper.”
Askin struggled to find the right words to navigate the absurdity.
“Ha, ha-ha, ahahahaha.”
A bright, clear sound of laughter rang out.
Turning his head, he saw his sister clutching her stomach, laughing so hard the room seemed to tremble.
“…….”
Askin froze, turning to stone himself.
It had been a very long time since he had seen Aria laugh so heartily.
*‘When was the last time I saw that face?’*
It had been ten years ago—when she was seven, gifted a garden, and had discovered her first butterfly.
He was stunned.
Without realizing it, a smile spread across his own face as he watched her. And that smile wasn’t merely a reflection of his sister’s joy; it was sparked by the image of the duchess-to-be, comically nursing her foot while raging at a rock.
Completely unaware of the reason, Askin found himself laughing along with Aria.
* * *
Time passed.
The days flowed by until the morning of the banquet commemorating the Goddess’s Blessing arrived.
While I was busy with early preparations, my grandfather summoned me.
“……Grandfather did?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
What on earth could he want to discuss so early?
It wasn’t that I lacked a guess; in fact, I had a very strong one, and I had no desire to face him.
However, I had no choice but to pull on my slippers and drag my feet toward my grandfather’s study.
*‘I handled the young lady who spread the rumors well enough.’*
After confirming that my fiancé hadn’t heard the gossip, I had summoned the clique of ruffians that very day and warned them, just as the original Charlize would have.
“I hear some boring rumors in the Empire these days. Who do you think spoiled the broth?”
Possessing the MAX-level ability to read the room when it came to Charlize, they quickly tucked their tails between their legs, identifying the internal whistleblower with a mere glance.
I had successfully issued my warning.
If these rumors spread any further, don’t expect it to be a pleasant experience. Would Grandfather truly be pleased if he found out?
Handle the damage already done on your own—do you understand?
The ruffian clique, who grasped the subtext perfectly amidst the elegant exchange of words, managed their mistake with surprising efficiency.
*‘Though their methods were preposterous.’*
The solution was almost comical.
They spread vicious rumors about me, which, naturally, were based on actual events.
Highly stimulating tales, such as, “Did you hear what Charlize did before she left for her trip?”
Even I was stunned when I heard them. *‘Getting that drunk and tossing a random young noble to the dog she was raising—that was a bit much.’*
Thanks to that, I was reminded once again of the dog Charlize used to keep.
The creature was a mutant, a beast of such massive proportions that it was often dubbed a monster dog.
Its name was… Terry.
‘Why give it such a gentle name? It doesn’t suit the beast at all.’
Regardless, the band of ruffians spread all sorts of provocative rumors and scandals across the various noble circles they frequented.
Because of this, the capital seemed to grow so feverish with gossip that I wondered if the temperature had risen by three degrees.
‘Indeed, their talent for stirring up trouble hasn’t rusted one bit.’
Hide a tree in a forest.
I had dropped hints when I met them, but I hadn’t expected them to be quite so thorough.
Thanks to their efforts, the capital was so saturated with various rumors that news of my wedding was relegated to just another bit of provocative gossip, effectively burying it.
Then again, the history between Charlize and Askin was so widely known that there wasn’t a soul who hadn’t heard of it.
‘Charlize chasing him relentlessly, tormenting him—that part, especially.’
I looked ahead.
Before I knew it, I stood before my grandfather’s study.
As I entered, I saw him waiting for me.
No sooner had I settled onto the sofa than my grandfather spoke.
“You know, don’t you? It’s today.”
I slowly lifted my gaze.
My grandfather wore an expression more satisfied than I had ever seen.
“Today, I will announce the marriage between you and Duke Remut.”