CHAPTER 06
A few days later, a special session of the Round Table had been urgently convened. The room was heated with intense arguments.
“It’s unjust! I’m being framed…!”
Naturally, most of the outcries came from the nobles who had colluded with Chairon.
When Cedric ordered an investigation, evidence surfaced of weapons being siphoned off mid-distribution for private profit.
“Your Grace… Is this really true? We still can’t believe it.”
Retainers not involved in the scandal looked on in confusion, waiting for the head of the house to speak.
“Several falsified ledgers were discovered in the captain’s quarters.”
“That wench planted those to get rid of me!”
Chairon pounded his own chest, furious.
Erika kept her lips tightly sealed.
She now understood why the young lady had asked for the copied ledgers.
The lady had secretly hidden them in the quarters, away from Chairon’s eyes.
And she had timed it perfectly to coincide with the Duke’s return.
‘That must’ve been no easy task.’
There had been barely half a day between when the ledgers were handed over and the Duke’s return.
Even more so, the captain and vice-captain’s quarters were in the same building—she must’ve avoided both their gazes at once.
“Dame Erika.”
At the Duke’s low call, Erika responded with a tense expression.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Have you nothing more to say?”
“I have committed a grave sin. I’ll accept whatever punishment you deem fit.”
She bowed her head.
“But I want to break this vicious cycle, once and for all.”
“Ha! Speaking as if you made some noble sacrifice—it’s disgusting! Your Grace, this woman made the whole thing up!”
But no one believed Chairon anymore.
Cornered, Chairon’s face twisted with rage—and then he suddenly lunged at Erika.
“I’ll kill you!”
Erika did not defend herself. She simply closed her eyes tightly.
This too was her sin.
Her expression showed resolve in the face of accepted guilt.
But the pain she expected never came.
–Thwack!
–Crash!
“Urgh!”
A water cup thrown by Cedric hit Chairon squarely in the head.
Cedric looked down at the unconscious Chairon with disgust and gave a curt gesture.
“Take him away.”
The surrounding knights, faces solemn, dragged Chairon out.
Even the nobles who had conspired with Chairon were hauled away by the knights, and the chamber fell into a heavy silence.
The remaining members of the council turned to Erika almost in unison. It was now time to decide her punishment.
Then—
–Bang.
The doors to the Round Table chamber burst open.
“…Is that her?”
The retainers murmured as they recognized the person entering.
Irene Lykaon.
What was she doing here?
There was no hint of surprise on her perfectly expressionless face.
Clearly, she hadn’t stumbled in by mistake.
“I came to clarify something regarding Dame Erika.”
“……”
Even Cedric, who wasn’t easily rattled, twitched his brow.
Irene spoke quickly, before any order to remove her could be given.
“I was secretly practicing swordsmanship at the training grounds when, by chance, I overheard the two speaking.”
“What did you hear?”
“It was a one-sided threat. Something along the lines of, ‘If you don’t want to be expelled from the order, you’ll follow my orders.’”
It wasn’t hard to figure out who had made the threat.
Even Cedric had known that Chairon disliked Erika.
His expression turned cold.
“I will accept any punishment.”
Erika suddenly knelt down.
“Whatever threats I received, my sin doesn’t become any lighter.”
Cedric looked at her for a moment, then sighed deeply and closed his eyes.
Rubbing his brow, he finally spoke.
“I sentence you to a year of reduced pay and one month of suspension.”
Considering that she had duplicated confidential documents, the punishment was surprisingly light.
Other nobles at the table were shocked and protested.
“That’s too lenient for such a grave offense, Your Grace!”
“Yes! She should be dismissed from her position!”
“I, too, bear responsibility for allowing such injustice to fester in the Order. Does that explain it?”
At Cedric’s words, the retainers all fell silent.
To argue further would be to point out more of the Duke’s failings—those with sense knew better than to press on.
Cedric stood and left the chamber.
As he passed by Irene, he said quietly:
“You. Come with me.”
Irene silently followed him.
✦✦✦
Seated in his office chair, Cedric’s icy blue eyes examined Irene.
His intense scrutiny made her hair stand on end. The pressure from a high-level swordsman was palpable.
For the first time since her return, real tension filled the air.
She spoke first.
“If you have nothing to say, I’ll take my leave.”
“…Even your tone has changed. It’s quite familiar.”
Irene froze. A tone familiar to him, a man of the battlefield… That meant she sounded like a soldier.
‘Of course I would.’
She had spent ten years in the knights and on the battlefield.
It was only natural that military mannerisms had seeped into her speech.
But when she met the Duke’s gaze head-on, she instinctively sensed danger.
He was suspicious of her.
“How did you develop such skill?”
On paper, she had no formal training and yet had defeated both Dietrich and Chloe.
To a seasoned swordsman like Cedric, her sudden rise was nothing short of suspicious.
Especially in an empire where black magic—capable of swapping souls—was taboo.
If she didn’t dispel this suspicion now, things could go badly.
‘What kind of child was I before the regression?’
Irene forced herself to dredge up the faded, unpleasant memories.
A timid ten-year-old girl.
A part of her she never wanted to revisit—yet it was vividly real.
Slowly, she opened her mouth.
“Am I going to be expelled from the house now?”
“What?”
“For barging into the council chamber without permission…”
Looking down, she felt a wave of emotion rise in her chest. Why did she have to relive the mistakes of her past self?
She’d rather bite off her own tongue.
Cedric quietly asked, observing her:
“…Were you always afraid of being cast out?”
“To avoid being kicked out, I practiced swordsmanship every day.”
In this way, she subtly revealed that her growth had come from genuine effort, not from any forbidden magic.
Cedric’s suspicion lessened slightly.
‘Haa.’
The suffocating pressure eased a little. Cedric, watching her intently, asked:
“Where did you learn your swordsmanship?”
This, she knew, was the real reason he’d summoned her.
But Irene didn’t answer immediately.
“Why won’t you answer?”
“If I tell you, will you punish the person who taught me?”
Cedric furrowed his brow. For some reason, her defensiveness had been bothering him since earlier.
“Why would I punish them?”
“Because they taught someone unworthy.”
“No one here is unworthy of learning the sword.”
The words stung. Irene almost retorted, ‘Do you really believe that?’—but she held back.
Instead, looking down, she answered:
“Erika taught me.”
Strictly speaking, this had happened in the timeline before her regression.
Still, Irene lied with a straight face, considering Erika her teacher even now.
Cedric showed no signs of doubt and simply sank into thought.
At that moment, a knock sounded at the door, and it opened.
“His Highness the First Prince and Young Master have arrived.”
It was the butler.
Meanwhile, Reinhardt and Chairon entered the mansion, guided by Cedric’s adjutant.
As they passed by nobles being dragged away, they heard cries:
“I’ve been framed! This is unjust!”
“Your Grace! Please spare me!”
Seeing the scene, Reinhardt muttered awkwardly:
“Seems we came at the wrong time.”
Mikhail shot a sharp glance at Logan, the adjutant.
“What’s going on?”
“Well….”
Unable to explain a private family affair in front of the prince, Logan hesitated, looking troubled.
Just then, Cedric and Irene emerged together.
“Your Highness, I trust your journey was smooth.”
Cedric greeted them in his usual expressionless manner.
“Thanks to your escort, I traveled with peace of mind.”
The prince responded briefly, then turned his eyes to the conspicuous girl beside him.
Black hair. Red eyes.
The Lykaon family was famous for their silver hair and blue eyes, inherited through generations.
This girl’s coloring didn’t resemble any Lykaon trait at all. She felt completely foreign.
“And who might she be?”
Irene met the gaze of the blond boy who had just addressed her.
He was a stunningly beautiful youth—so much so that her skin prickled at his presence.
‘Reinhardt Elphias.’
The First Prince of the Elphias Empire. The boy who would one day become Crown Prince.
He was only thirteen, but already had striking features.
His soft green eyes—reminiscent of fresh summer leaves—added warmth to what could have been a coldly handsome face.
As he looked at her with curiosity, Irene replied in a calm tone:
“Irene Lykaon. A child born out of wedlock in this house.”
