Chapter 15  

“Oooh, look at this sofa, Lady Cillia! As expected of the Siastor Duchy—it’s so soft! Completely different from the sofas back at our estate!”

The person who greeted me when I trudged back with a dead expression was Carl, sitting proudly in front of a mountain of empty carp-juice bottles. His eyes were overflowing with reverence and admiration.

Come to think of it, ever since we arrived and I ran straight into Dazhar, I hadn’t had the chance to talk to Carl at all.

I slumped into the chair across from him and muttered,

“…Why are you so happy, Grandpa?”

I looked like a boxer who had just lost a match—towel over the head, gasping for breath—but Carl didn’t seem to notice.
He was practically vibrating with joy.

“Well, of course I’m happy! It’s the Siastor Duchy! Ahh, today is the day Lady Cillia’s talents are finally being recognized!”

“Haha…”

I laughed awkwardly.

Carl dabbed the corner of his eyes like he was crying.

“I always believed this day would come! After Aksion arrived, nothing but good things have happened. Truly, the little lord must be a bringer of blessings!”

His bright face and tender smile warmed me a little, even though I was still mentally destroyed from my encounter with those non-recyclable idiots at the Black Hawks.

“The money issue you were struggling with is solved, and Aksion’s education problem is solved—all thanks to you!”

“…”

“I, this old man, will do everything I can to help Lady Cillia!”

He raised his fists in a fighting pose.
Behind him stood a mountain of carp juice. I narrowed my eyes.

“…So you drank all of that?”

“Well, of course! To serve young Lady Cillia properly, this old body needs sufficient fuel! A tiny sip won’t do!”

“…”

I glanced at Aksion sleeping peacefully on the bed, then at Carl smiling sweetly, and let out a deep sigh.

Right.
I was practically the head of the family now.

And these two—this baby and this overexcited old man—were my responsibility.

‘Fine. Those trashy knights… I’ll just stomp them flat until they become recyclable.’

Except… they refused because they were “busy.”
Those damned idiots.

How should I lure them in?

While I was thinking, Carl shyly clasped his hands like a maiden and whispered:

“H-have you, by any chance, seen the Black Hawk Knights while you were out? You know… Run wild, Black Hawks! and all that.”

Oh, I saw them.

I saw them rolling on the floor, running wild in the most literal and trashy way possible.

“Uh… yeah. Sort of?”

“Good heavens! You went into the knights’ building?”

“Mm…”

Carl put his hands on his hips and scolded me dramatically.

“You didn’t go empty-handed, did you?”

“…I did.”

“You should have brought a gift at the very least!”

Gift?
Gift, my foot.

“Well, think about it. We’ll be staying here for quite a while, right? It’s basically the same as moving. When moving, one must always greet the neighbors with a polite gift—”

His voice faded like white noise as my mind replayed three words:

Move. Gift. Neighbor.

And suddenly—

I remembered.

In Korea, when you move, you give out rice cakes.

♥ 30–40s Gourmet Eating & Drinking Club ♥

The words on the knights’ tapestry flashed through my mind.

‘Ohho?’

Maybe… just maybe… I could lure them with food.

“Carl. Where’s the rice we brought from the Viscount’s storage?”

“Eh? Why are you suddenly asking? We sent it ahead in the carriage, remember? It should be in the annex’s storage by now.”

The moment he realized my intention, Carl’s face froze.

His eyes went blank, replaying the suffering he endured during the last rice-threshing session.

Cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

His eyes begged me:
No, right? Lady Cillia, please say no. You’re not doing THAT again. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t.

I crushed his tiny hope mercilessly.

“Let’s go. We’re working tonight. You need to earn back that carp juice you drank.”

***

And so—

We worked from sunset until the moon rose.

By the time Carl muttered, “This is what an evil employer must feel like…,” we finally finished threshing and milling.

We produced far more rice this time—just in case another emergency struck.

When the work finally ended, Carl threw his hands up in victory.

Last time he collapsed immediately.
But fueled by ridiculous amounts of carp juice, he was surprisingly lively today.

“I’ll be back.”

“Uu… Are you sure I don’t need to come with you?”

“Of course not. I’m not a child. I’m just going to the mill.”

But the next day, he woke up with full-body muscle pain like a rusty machine.

Feeling guilty, I left him to rest and decided to go myself.

“Still, this is the kind of job a servant should—”

“Nope. Don’t want it.”

He meant I should ask a Siastor servant, but absolutely not.

I refused to owe that insane future in-law anything.
My instincts screamed at me not to.

“Rest, Carl!”

I headed out of the Siastor Duchy.

I was going to the mill to turn the soaked rice into rice flour for rice cakes.

I loaded the soaked rice onto the carriage and headed down the mountain to the nearest town within Siastor territory.

The mill was on the town outskirts.

“I need this turned into flour.”

The mill workers blinked at the rice I unloaded.

“What’s this?”

“No idea.”

“Not mine.”

They whispered among themselves, but since I looked like a noblewoman, they didn’t dare ask and simply ran the machine.

Rice flour came out smoothly.

I paid, gathered the sacks, and walked back toward the carriage—

“Huh?”

Someone behind me made a strange noise.

I lifted my foot onto the carriage’s step without looking back.

There was no way someone I knew would be here.
Cillia’s human connections were microscopic.

Someone recognizing me here would be like…

…like an ant suddenly growing wings and flying.

Actually wait—some ants DO fly.

My mind had a revelation as the voice kept coming:

“Uh?”

“…”

“Uhhh?!”

Then—

“Cillia?”

“…?”

I turned.

The source of the “uhhhh” noises was a bright-faced man who looked every bit the noble.

He pointed at me, mouth wide open.

How dreadfully unrefined.

I lifted my chin and stared him down as regally as possible.

Standing on the carriage step helped put me at eye level.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the Viscount’s territory? You came all the way out here? Amazing.”

He knows me well?

I squinted and studied him slowly.

After meeting those garbage knights, I had already abandoned half my expectations for humanity, so my face probably looked like a freshly dug potato.

Hmm… Who was he?
Looked familiar…

“Why… are you looking at me like that?”

“Ugh.”

“Cillia?”

I dug through Cillia’s memories and—

I froze.

This man was…

Cillia’s childhood friend.

Her academy classmate.

Her first love.

And the boy she had one-sidedly adored.

HUUUUUH?!

“Cillia! Wait! Don’t go!”

“You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

Shaking like a glitching robot, I threw myself into the carriage and slammed the door shut.

He called my name outside, but I locked the door tight in panic.

“Start the carriage!!”

“CILLIAAAAA!”

The horses neighed—
And then the carriage jolted forward.

I groaned.

“…What the hell…”

The scream that escaped my lips wasn’t joy or sorrow at meeting her first love.

It was pure shame and humiliation.

Because the moment I remembered who he was…

I also remembered everything Cillia had done to him.

Everything.

‘Hey. I found this on the way. Eat it.’

‘Mmph! S-Cillia! I—I’m allergic to carrots—!! Help—! Blaargh!’

‘Shut up and eat.’

‘Sniff sniff, Cillia… why are you doing this to me…?’

‘Cry more. Cry harder. Come on. Hehehe.’

She fed him food he was allergic to just to watch him cry.

Bullied him because he was always in second place.

Made him run errands for her every day.

I trembled, drowning in shame.

Absolutely NOTHING about this body’s past was normal!!!