Chapter 36
Rene turned her gaze away from Belia, looked at the bedside, and staggered back a step.
“Brother?”
With a terrified face, Rene clutched the edge of Varun’s jacket.
“Yes.”
“That… that person lying there… is my mother? It’s not, right?”
Tears welled instantly in her wide blue eyes.
“It is.”
“No way…”
At Varun’s answer, Rene immediately covered her mouth.
Her expression was so pitiful and sorrowful that it could make even the hardest heart ache.
The servants held their breath as Rene clung desperately to Varun’s arm.
“This can’t be true! Brother! Tell me! Tell me it’s not… not true… We finally met, how could…”
Varun reached out and patted Rene’s back.
“I just wanted to finally see my mother and be with her as her daughter…”
Rene collapsed to the floor.
“And what kind of appearance is that, coming to see your mother? Do you plan to live recklessly now that your true identity is about to be exposed?”
Belia flinched and stepped back.
Her hair was disheveled, and she wore a thin dress she hadn’t changed in days—so shabby compared to Rene.
Rene, on the other hand, wore a light blue flowing gown, with the Marquis Arpedi’s signature silver hair and blue eyes, crying in a way that made the servants exchange curious looks.
“I…”
“And how dare you come here at all? Isn’t our mother sick precisely because of you?”
At Varun’s words, Rene snapped her head up.
“That’s right. It’s all because of you.”
“What?”
“If it hadn’t been for you—!”
Rene’s accusing finger seemed to point in slow motion.
“Admit it now! Aren’t you ashamed to face our dead mother? Then again, if you had any shame, you wouldn’t have helped with my kidnapping!”
Belia drew in a sharp breath.
“You’re a fake!”
At Rene’s furious cry, Belia tried to answer—but strangely, no words would come out.
“Not true! Haa—”
Belia gasped, bolting upright, frantically touching her own body and scanning her surroundings.
It was clearly her own room—nothing had happened yet.
Moonlight streaming through the window told her it was late at night.
She brushed back her sweat-soaked hair and instinctively pulled her legs up under the blanket.
Rustle—
The scattered papers on her bed crinkled, pulling her back to reality.
Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes tightly.
“Fake…”
She thought exhaustion had spared her from dreams lately, but the nightmare from her first life had returned.
The familiar, unpleasant feeling made her brow furrow.
“No wonder I can’t shake it off.”
A self-mocking smile touched her damp eyes.
Opening them again, she noticed a sheet of paper she hadn’t seen before going to bed.
Most likely, Soph had left it by her side, noting tomorrow’s schedule while she slept.
Belia picked it up.
From morning, she was to visit the trading company about financial matters, then stop by the Imperial Palace to meet Canary.
In the afternoon, she had to go to the workshop, and in the evening, attend the Buteno Duke family’s banquet.
She reached for the small drawer by her bed.
Every night.
No—constantly, she would open the top drawer, where a letter from Carlton rested.
She hadn’t bothered to send a reply.
She had no way to, and she felt guilty troubling Alendo just to deliver one, so she simply waited for Carlton’s next letter.
“Should I stop waiting and find out on my own…?”
Belia stared at the packed schedule and Carlton’s letter together.
Unlike her past lives—where she had struggled desperately to prove she wasn’t a fake—this life, where she forged bonds she had never had before and ran businesses under her own name, was immeasurably happier.
“Happy…”
She gave a weary smile.
Canary always told her she seemed to shine whenever they met.
At first, hearing that made her happy. But the more she thought about it, the tighter her chest grew.
Because this happiness was all a mirage.
She had resolved to let go of regrets and accept death humbly in this life, but unexpected memories had shaken everything.
“Carlton. And… age eight.”
Resting her face on her knees, Belia turned to look out the window.
Something had definitely happened when she was eight years old. If only she could learn what—it would make everything clear.
Whether she was fake, or real.
She had tried to find the clue across several lives, but never succeeded.
This time, though, the traces were here.
Only… she feared the truth she might uncover.
“Admit it now! Aren’t you ashamed to face our dead mother? Then again, if you had any shame, you wouldn’t have helped with my kidnapping!”
The vivid blue eyes from her dream resurfaced in her mind, and Belia buried her face between her knees again.
The night grew deeper.
“Hey!”
The door burst open, and Belia winced.
“Are you busy?”
“When you come into someone else’s room, do you not know how to knock? I don’t even expect a ‘pardon me,’ but at least knock, will you?”
She rubbed at her temples, a headache flaring.
Several nights of nightmares had robbed her of sleep, leaving her exhausted.
At her sharp retort, Bedol scratched his head.
“I asked if you’re busy today.”
“Yes. Busy.”
She didn’t even lift her eyes from the documents she was reviewing.
“This afternoon too?”
“Yes.”
“Then at least have lunch with me.”
Bedol cautiously probed, watching her expression.
“I already have a lunch appointment.”
“What’s keeping you so busy?”
“Let’s eat next time. I really can’t today. If you’re done, please leave.”
Her curt tone made Bedol blink.
“What’s with you? Why so prickly?”
Belia froze at his words.
“…Was I? Sorry.”
She set down her pen and pressed her brow.
“I couldn’t sleep last night, that’s all.”
“Are you that tired?”
He wandered around the room, glancing at her.
“A little.”
“Then what’s the point of having subordinates? Just let them handle it all.”
Bedol grimaced at the mountain of paperwork stacked to the side.
He could never understand what Varun or Belia found enjoyable about this kind of work.
“Why? Worried about me?”
“Worried, my ass! I’m just afraid one of these days, the Marquis family will have a corpse carried out! What’ll that do to the family’s reputation?!”
Belia let out a short laugh at his grumbling.
“Anyway, no matter how busy you are, we need to talk.”
“Talk?”
“Yeah.”
Bedol naturally plopped onto the sofa in her office, reaching out to grab a snack from the table.
“So, what is it?”
“The date for your knight’s duel has been set.”
“My knight?”
“I told you when you went to the academy, remember? Things got delayed because Father and I were busy, but you need to appoint a knight.”
At the reminder of the matter she had completely forgotten, Belia’s eyes widened.
“Oh, right.”
“And you call yourself a master when you don’t even care about your own knight?”
Bedol shook his head.
“But why was the duel date set so soon?”
“Because you’ve been going out more and appearing in public a lot lately. I told Father and arranged it quickly myself. I can’t keep substituting as your guard forever.”
He gave her a searching look.
He was well aware of the growing reputation Belia had within the Marquis household.
Even their old nurse, who had looked after both of them as children, had written long letters from the estate.
Letters filled with stories like, “I heard Belia accomplished this,” or “Word has spread that the young lady is remarkable.” And always ending with nagging for Belia to hurry and graduate from the academy.
In the past, Bedol might have found this annoying. But lately, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride.
“Well, she is my sister, after all.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Anyway—so, have you noticed any knights you like?”
“Knights?”
“You may not visit the training grounds, but you must’ve at least run into some around the estate.”
Belia hesitated.
Saying no would be a lie.
Just like in the carriage to the academy, there was only one person who immediately came to mind.
‘My lady, I will protect you, no matter what.’
Despite his ordinary brown hair and eyes, his swordsmanship was extraordinary.
Assuming this was her final return, he was someone she absolutely had to pave a golden path for.
Even if it cost him his life or his arm, he never once blamed her. No wealth could ever repay that.
She had long intended to repay his loyalty, but one thing still held her back from approaching him.
“Hey!”
“Huh?”
Lost in thought, velia jerkedd her head up at Bedol’s shout.
