Chapter 7
“I can’t trust everything you say.”
The marquis’s voice was heavy.
“Haven’t you already said the same thing countless times?”
Digging through faint memories, scenes came to mind where Elia, trying to escape a crisis, had lied and promised never to act out again.
‘Damn it, Elia. You’re really no help at all.’
It was at the moment I let out a sigh internally, thinking maybe this time too, there was no choice.
“But today, it was clearly Zachary who was at fault.”
I jerked my head up. My eyes met the marquis’s again, who was still staring at me.
“Father!”
“Honey!”
Ginata and Lady Doris cried out, but neither of us paid them any attention.
“Exploiting someone’s weakness is dishonorable—both as a knight and as a gentleman.”
“Fath—no, Marquis…”
Zachary mumbled something incoherent. But again, we ignored him.
“From now on, I will be watching your actions.”
The marquis said to me.
I bowed my head in place of a reply.
It would’ve been appropriate to say ‘Thank you,’ but I didn’t want to offer such easy gratitude to someone who had always been excessively strict with Elia.
“…Mother, do something.”
Ginata urged Lady Doris.
Worried that she might cause a scene, I watched her carefully.
But surprisingly, she stayed quiet.
Though she couldn’t hide all of her anger, at least she didn’t oppose the marquis’s decision.
She had underestimated Elia and acted carelessly, but fundamentally, she seemed perceptive and skilled at riding the tides of society.
‘Well, that explains how she managed to manipulate the Elvington family to her will.’
I realized anew that Lady Doris was no easy opponent.
If I were to continue living as Elia, I’d likely be clashing with her often.
“You’re grounded for the rest of today. Be at the knights’ order on time tomorrow.”
The marquis spoke sternly before turning and leaving the hall.
“Zachary, are you alright?”
Lady Doris asked in a voice still tinged with anger, turning her concern to her son.
“Ma’am, are you alright?”
I saw her servants rush toward her.
“Miss!”
Of course, I had my ally too—Mary.
“Oh my, how could you change so much! You scared me!”
Mary whispered so only I could hear.
Her eyes sparkled like stars with excitement and admiration as she looked at me.
“Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
Perhaps eager to celebrate in private, Mary led me to my room.
“To be honest, I was worried you’d be attacked again. But what happened? You stood up to the Madam, to Young Master Zachary, even Miss Ginata!”
Once inside, Mary busily prepared my indoor clothes and warm water while chattering non-stop.
“I really thought things would go badly at first, but I didn’t need to worry at all. You were amazing, Miss. I always believed you’d return to your old dignified self.”
In the end, Mary even teared up.
Still, ‘return to your old self,’ she said.
‘So Elia must’ve been normal—before she got injured and gave up the sword.’
As I chatted with Mary, I gradually filled in the blanks of memory.
The most useful bits were about Lady Doris and the rest of Elia’s family.
“And Master Michael will be returning to the mansion tomorrow morning.”
Especially valuable was information about Michael Elvington—Elia’s older brother and the family’s heir—because there was hardly anything about him in Elia’s memories.
According to Mary, Michael was the proud commander of the First Knights Order and as rigid as their father, the Marquis.
“Guess we’re going to fight.”
After bathing and changing into my indoor clothes, I mumbled while sipping the nightcap Mary brought.
“With whom?”
Mary, airing out the room before bed, tilted her head curiously.
“Michael… I mean, my brother. You said he used to scold me whenever I went to pubs or gambling dens.”
At my words, Mary froze by the window, her eyes wide.
“You just told me that—why are you so shocked?”
I tilted my head, puzzled by her reaction.
Mary slowly stepped away from the window and approached me.
“Miss, could you say that again?”
“I said he’d scold me, definitely.”
“No, I mean… who exactly?”
“…My brother?”
Worried I’d said something wrong, I added cautiously.
Mary covered her mouth with both hands.
“Oh my gosh!”
Her eyes filled with shock and amazement.
“Miss, you’ve really changed!”
“What?”
“You really, truly have returned to how you used to be!”
Mary joyfully bounced in place but still didn’t explain what exactly she meant. She simply wore a beaming smile and tidied my bed.
“I can’t wait to see when the young master comes down for breakfast tomorrow.”
She left the room muttering cryptically to herself.
“An explanation would be nice.”
Left alone, I muttered.
Mary did her job well—my bed was cozy and clean.
“Well, I can’t reverse time and take back what I said. Nothing to be done now.”
I crawled under the covers.
The soft goose-down comforter made all the exhaustion I’d been holding back since the possession wash over me.
“No, I need to organize the original story’s information like other transmigrators….”
I tried to recall useful facts from the source material.
In the end, while not fully satisfying, I managed to gather a few major points.
“I need to go to the gambling den and retrieve the heirloom sword, rescue a sub-male lead on the way, look after Cesare the lieutenant… and succeed in the next heretic purge. That’s about all I can manage now.”
Heretics in this world are villains—fanatics who perform human sacrifices and form cults.
Later, they even ally with the crown prince in an attempt to overthrow the empire.
As I mumbled, my eyelids grew heavy.
“I also need to fix Elia’s injured arm…”
Before long, I drifted into a deep sleep.
“…Miss! Miss!”
“Ugh…?”
I felt like I had just closed my eyes, but Mary’s voice was waking me.
The sunlight pouring through the window was mercilessly assaulting me.
“Ugh, Mary, my head hurts… It’s like I’m being beaten by the sun… What’s going on?”
“It’s a hangover, Miss! You always got headaches when you drank halfway—remember?”
A halfway drink causes a hangover? Then does that mean if I drink properly, I’ll be fine?
As I puzzled over this, Mary suddenly handed me a glass filled with a murky, sticky liquid.
“What is this?”
“A special hangover remedy from Chef Jericho!”
It smelled terrible. I didn’t want to drink it.
“But you have to! Or you’ll never eat breakfast or make it to work!”
Pressed by Mary, I reluctantly drank it.
A chill ran down my spine, and an indescribable aroma engulfed my whole body.
“Weird, but my head feels clearer now.”
Whatever it tasted like, the effect was real. Thanks to Mary and Jericho, I was ready and headed down to breakfast within ten minutes.
I ran into Michael Elvington, Elia’s older brother and the heir to the marquisate, on the stairs.
His golden hair shimmered like threads of sunlight, his blue eyes were just like Elia’s, and his handsome features resembled the marquis.
There was no mistaking it—this was Michael.
“Elia.”
Frowning deeply, he looked at me. Clearly, he was about to scold me for what happened last night, so I tried to pass him without a word. But he called out.
“I heard you went to the pub again last night with your friends.”
‘Like father, like son. Even the way they talk is identical.’
I’d hoped he might be less uptight than the marquis, but that dream shattered instantly.
Stepfamily aside, even her own father and brother pressured Elia like this.
Now I fully understood how marginalized she’d been in this family.
No wonder she had gone astray.
“I did.”
I didn’t feel the need to show him the same deference I gave the marquis, so I spoke casually.
Michael’s handsome brow twitched upward.
“That’s all you have to say?”
His stern tone annoyed me.
I just wanted someone to give Elia a little breathing room.
“The marquis already scolded me enough yesterday. I don’t need to hear it again from you, brother.”
That’s why those harsh words slipped out.
I regretted them the moment they left my mouth, but it was too late.
‘Ugh, he’s going to lecture me forever now… I should’ve just kept quiet.’
Bracing for a barrage of scolding, I lowered my head.
“…Brother?”
Michael’s voice came with a hint of confusion.
“Did you just call me ‘brother’?”
There was no anger in his tone—just pure shock.
Worried I’d said something else wrong, I looked up.
Michael stared at me with unreadable eyes, then slowly opened his mouth.
“Since when did you stop calling me an old geezer?”
old geezer… that’s rough my dude