CHAPTER 67…………………..
“Lady! Wait a moment!”
Kim Taeheon called out. He lowered his gaze, as if truly remorseful.
“If you have time later, how about a cup of tea? I’d like to sincerely apologize for what happened back then.”
“That matter really means nothing to me.”
Irene replied calmly. And that was the truth.
The real problem wasn’t that incident—it was him. His very existence.
“Uh…”
Kim Taeheon stared in dismay as Irene turned and walked away. His face twisted in frustration.
“What the hell? She’s acting like that over something so trivial?”
Sure, Lloyd had behaved recklessly as a child, but it hadn’t been that big of a deal.
For her to be this cold over something that happened years ago was absurd.
‘If only she were some insignificant illegitimate child, it wouldn’t matter.’
But considering the situation, it seemed Irene Lycaon herself was the real power in the family.
In the original story, he remembered Irene—top entrant of the exam—being despised by her household.
‘I was planning to coax her a bit and make her one of my pawns…’
But unlike the depiction of her as a pitiful hanger-on, she seemed to hold considerable influence within her family.
‘What’s going on? Why is this different from the original?’
Not just her. The Lycaon family itself seemed to hold far more power than he remembered.
Clicking his tongue, Taeheon dismissed the thought. Aside from those differences, most things still aligned with the original.
“Well, no problem! I’ll just show her little by little what a great guy I am.”
When a man who used to be awful reforms himself, women’s hearts open quickly.
Not just open—they fall even deeper.
Feeling an odd surge of competitiveness, Taeheon’s lips curved into a triumphant smile.
*
The next day came the knights’ oath ceremony.
Dressed in her full uniform, Irene studied her reflection in the mirror.
Outwardly, she looked no different than in her past life. But her heart was in a very different place.
Back then, she had been filled with nothing but fear and anxiety.
‘Because it was all unfamiliar.’
For all its cruelty, Duke Lycaon’s estate had still been her first nest.
Leaving it behind to adapt to a new, foreign world alone had been anything but easy.
As expected, the order had been merciless. Territorial bullying, harassment, unwanted advances—she endured it all.
But reporting such injustice was impossible. Anyone who spoke out was branded a problem knight. Irene had seen it happen too many times, and so she had endured in silence.
“Mikhail.”
As she left her quarters, her brother was waiting.
She looked at him with puzzlement, and he gave an awkward cough.
“Here, you should call me ‘Brother.’”
“…Why?”
“That way people will see us as close siblings, and no one will dare mess with you.”
“……”
Irene knew better now. He just wanted to hear her call him “Brother.” After a pause, she replied:
“No need. If someone bothers me, I’ll handle it myself.”
Disappointment flickered across Mikhail’s face—until her next words lit him up with joy.
“So don’t worry about me, Brother.”
His dramatic change of expression made Irene embarrassed, and she hurried past him. Why was he so absurdly happy?
Her father, her brother—she would never understand them.
They arrived at the great hall where the ceremony was to be held.
The huge gray doors stood wide open, revealing a red-carpeted interior.
Then Irene froze, struck by a sudden realization. Another great difference between this life and her past.
“What are you thinking about?”
Mikhail asked, puzzled by her abrupt halt.
“…Nothing.”
Feigning nonchalance, she resumed walking.
This time, she wouldn’t be facing the oath ceremony alone.
*
After the oath, Irene received a summons from the Crown Prince. She now stood before his office.
Mikhail had insisted on coming with her, but she remembered what happened at the exam and flatly refused.
Having finally shaken him off, she carried Lepidor in her arms. Recalling the promise made six years ago, Irene knocked on the door.
Knock knock.
“Enter.”
The reply came in less than five seconds. Irene thought it unusually quick, but dismissed the thought and opened the door.
“I greet the Little Sun.”
Freshly sworn in as a knight, she gave him a formal bow.
“…It’s been a while since we exchanged proper greetings, Lady. Or should I call you Sir now?”
“Please call me whatever you prefer.”
She bowed her head again. She truly didn’t care.
Taeheon always called her by name, but she knew titles were at the master’s discretion in such relationships.
“I’m used to calling you Lady, but…”
Reinhardt paused, then decided:
“At least here, I should call you Sir.”
Irene’s eyes widened in faint surprise.
“Why do you look so startled?”
Reinhardt asked, puzzled.
“…It’s nothing.”
Even she wasn’t sure why she reacted that way.
‘Why was I surprised?’
She thought quietly, then realized: deep down, she had expected him to keep calling her “Lady.”
But he chose “Sir.” And she knew very well what that implied.
Respect for a knight.
Seeing her expression, Reinhardt’s gaze grew concerned.
“Sir, is something wrong?”
To hide her unsettled heart, Irene steered the conversation away.
“No, Your Highness. May I ask why you’ve called me?”
“Ah, yes.” He got to the point.
“You know, as the top entrant, you have the privilege of choosing your own division. It’s not decided by me, but by your choice.”
“Yes.”
Irene nodded. In her past life, she had chosen the Second Prince’s guard unit.
Because at the exam, Kim Taeheon had been the only one to warmly encourage her.
‘A girl taking the exam alone—how admirable.’
It had been the first kind words anyone offered her. She had been swayed, and used her privilege for him.
‘How foolish I was.’
Her gaze darkened, then sharpened again. This time, she would not repeat the same mistake.
“I wish to join the First Division of the Imperial Investigation Bureau.”
The Bureau had two branches.
The Second handled minor crimes within the Empire. The First pursued grave crimes that threatened national security.
It was dangerous—by far the deadliest posting, with the highest casualty rate every year.
Reinhardt’s face hardened.
“…You mean to take that relic and throw yourself into the field?”
“Yes.”
He struggled to find words, then carefully advised:
“You could die there. Dark sorcerers are not to be underestimated.”
“I know. They possess blind faith, endless vengeance, unshakable unity, and reckless self-sacrifice.”
The cultists who worshipped the Demon God were exactly that.
Touch one of their own, and they would come for you twice as hard—using any means, even their own lives.
“…You seem to know them well.”
Reinhardt looked troubled by her unexpected knowledge.
‘I fought them for years.’
Of anyone alive, Irene knew them best. She had watched the Lycaons fall to them, one by one.
Forgetting would have been impossible.
“Even so, must you go there?”
His desire to dissuade her was clear. But wasn’t this a knight’s duty? Why resist it so strongly? After some hesitation, Irene spoke.
“I received an oracle.”
“…An oracle?”
“God commanded me to purify the corruption.”
“……”
Reinhardt stared at her in bewilderment.
“…But why must you be the one to do it?”
Irene’s mind came to a halt. She hadn’t expected that question.
