“Don’t you want cake? You like it.”
I looked at the cake on the table. It seemed like a gesture of reconciliation, but it wasn’t enough to cool my temper.
I stared at the cake, then at the man, then back again. Seeing my hesitation, my older brother sitting beside me quickly shot me a look.
‘Just eat it and get it over with! Hurry!’
Since we were twins, I understood his expression perfectly. But I stubbornly shook my head. I even made a deliberate “hmph!” sound for emphasis.
“I don’t want to eat it, Young Lord.”
At my reply, the platinum-blond man’s face turned bright red. He wasn’t actually angry. He was simply holding back a smile.
If he laughed here, he knew it would only irritate me further.
‘So annoying, damn it.’
Between me, whose expression had turned sour, and the man trying not to laugh, the only one suffering was my brother Shasha, who looked like he desperately wanted to escape the room.
“Young Lord, huh. It’s been a long time since I heard you call me that.”
His eyes curved into a soft smile. But within those violet eyes—shimmering like gemstones—there was clear amusement.
“That title… what was it you used to call it?”
He leaned forward slightly, crossing one leg over the other. Experience told me that when he smiled like that, things were about to get dangerous.
I forced out a shaky question.
“W-what are you talking about?”
“The first day we met.”
“The first day?”
Shasha, who had looked exhausted just moments ago, suddenly perked up. This was the day’s story I had always dodged, no matter how many times he asked.
Cheater! Total cheat move! Memories of my past embarrassment flashed through my mind, and I let out a loud, exaggerated laugh while grabbing a fork.
“Oh! Wow! This black tea cake looks delicious. I absolutely love these!”
It was a lie. Everyone in this room knew I would only touch a cake if it was made with fresh cream. The heavens knew it, the earth knew it, Armin Grey knew it, I knew it, and my brother knew it.
And just as surely, everyone also knew I was trying to change the subject.
“Armin, just ignore Vivian and continue,” my brother said. “So, what happened that day?”
“Brother! Try the cake! Come on! You like tea, right?!”
I sent him a desperate look. It was my surrender—an admission that I was in the wrong and we should drop the subject.
“Hmm. I could have sworn you said something about being a shut-in… but that isn’t important right now.”
Brushing his platinum hair back, the man asked in a friendly tone:
“Tastes good, right? I got it from a trending dessert shop in the capital.”
“Oh! Oh, of course! It’s so good I could die eating it!”
I glared at him while he wasn’t looking, then quickly switched to a polite smile when he turned back.
I wasn’t completely clueless. I knew how to act when necessary.
My pitiful flattery seemed to satisfy Armin. Even after my brother tried to press him for answers, he didn’t bring it up again.
To tell my story properly, I should start with an incident that happened when I was four. Actually, I should begin with an introduction to my family.
My family name is Roha. We belong to a noble house—not as powerful as a count’s family, but still higher than a mere baron.
A modest level of wealth. Even my appearance was average. In a world where gold and silver hair were everywhere, my plain brown hair was so unremarkable that people might not even realize I was a noble.
That was the family I was born into. I was Vivian Roha—often called Vivi—twin sister of the heir, Shasha.
Why am I telling it like someone else’s story? Because of what happened when I was four.
At four years old, I nearly crossed the river of death and made a U-turn back to life. I had been playing with my brother on the second floor when I fell through the railing.
It was a near-fatal accident. My brother was scolded so severely by our father that it was the first time he had ever been punished like that, and I remained unconscious for days.
Fortunately, I hadn’t landed directly on my head, so the external injuries were minor. Once I woke up, I was able to return to normal life fairly quickly.
But from that day on, I kept a secret I could never tell anyone.
Sometimes I still think about it. What if the afterlife in this world is connected to Korea’s underworld—like the River of the Dead—because the world itself is round?
What was my secret?
After waking up, I remembered my past life.
At first, I was quite confused. I never imagined that the romance fantasy novels I had spent hundreds of won reading in my previous life would apply to me. I had been an atheist—there was no way I believed in things like reincarnation.
But with the memories of four-year-old Vivian Roha still intact inside me, I couldn’t deny reality.
Before falling from the railing, I had been a quiet, shy child. Reserved and soft-spoken. That was probably still how others saw me.
That was because I had desperately acted the part—following my parents’ constant pleas:
“Vivian, please! You must not act like that in front of others!”
Thanks to that, our family—House Roha—became somewhat well known in the area. I, Vivian Roha, was reputed to be gentle and refined… ugh, it makes me gag to say it.
Meanwhile, my twin brother Shasha was seen as the capable heir—far more promising than our father.
But things were different at home.
I was what you might call a “shut-in tyrant.”
“Vivi, you took the next volume… and when did you steal my clothes again?”
A month ago, Shasha had barged into my room without knocking and frowned.
Since the accident at age four, I had lived under my parents’ excessive protection. As a result, they had utterly failed in raising their daughter properly. Polite? Me? What a joke.
Whatever I did, they spoiled me. In our house—the Roha viscounty—I was the queen and the boss.
That day, I was wearing my brother’s oversized trousers as pajamas. Around here, people didn’t understand that men’s baggy pants made the best sleepwear.
By now used to it, Shasha only sighed instead of trying to take his clothes back.
“Vivi, please. I beg you. Stop stealing my clothes.”
“But they’re comfortable.”
“Hah.”
Another sigh. I already knew what he was about to say.
I mimicked his tone and teased him:
“So you’re going to marry someone? Is that it?”
The imitation was so accurate that his face turned bright red. Having grown up around me, my brother—who had lost all illusions about women—snapped in annoyance.
“Don’t do that. You’re already over twenty.”
“Twenty-one, actually. Next volume is on the desk. Take it if you want.”
Lying on the bed and stuffing cookies into my mouth, I watched him gather the book.
It was one of his secret hobbies. The girls who admired his popularity would be shocked to know he was a romance novel fanatic.
Everyone has their own little pretenses.
Calling it pretension might sound cynical, but it was really just a survival skill. I just happened to use it more than most—though my family didn’t agree.
Shasha looked at me disapprovingly and pulled a chair closer. I instinctively knew this was going to be a long lecture.
“Vivi, I’m not joking. What are you going to do with your life?”
“Oh, why are you bringing this up? I behave perfectly well outside!”
“That’s the problem. Everyone at gatherings tells me you seem like an angel sent from heaven.”
“Oh my! Really? Who said that? How lovely of them!”
I giggled and rolled over. Seeing that, my brother rubbed his forehead as if in pain.
“An angel… is that what they meant?”
I quickly switched to my public expression—wide, innocent eyes filled with gentle vulnerability.
My brother, who was never good at resisting my act, took a step back.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You don’t want to get married?”
“If I did, it would be the greatest disgrace. And think about the poor man! It would be a fraud!”
“So what are you saying? You plan to live off your parents’ allowance forever?”
His words left me silent. He was right—sooner or later I should become independent.
The problem was that this world was still so old-fashioned that women were rarely expected to have careers. For women, the ultimate achievement was a good marriage.
And on top of that, there probably wasn’t a single man who could understand the gap between the person I showed the world and the person I really was.
