Chapter 3
“I am currently in a state of repentance, Sister Lucy.”
“Repentance?”
“I felt the need to apologize to those I once criticized for being money-hungry. I—I… but honestly, one Epic in a hundred pulls? That’s just cruel!”
Through grueling effort, the merchant guild had finally stabilized. It no longer teetered on the precarious line between legal and illegal as it had during the previous Baron Felice’s tenure. I had struggled and clawed my way through life here just to survive, and before I knew it, seven years had passed.
I managed to clear the debts about a year ago.
What started as a desperate means of survival gradually turned into a passion. As sales grew and my affection for the guild deepened, the work actually became enjoyable. People whispered behind my back, calling me a ‘Black Widow’ who devoured her husband to seize his title, but honestly? Whatever.
Rebecca—the real one, before I possessed her body—had explicitly warned the former Baron Felice against setting sail. He was the one who ignored her.
Besides, it’s not like I asked to possess Rebecca’s body. I was a victim of circumstance, too. On the day I resolved to live as Rebecca Felice, I made a vow: if living diligently was a crime, I would live so diligently that I’d eventually earn a stay of execution.
‘Though, when I’m working overtime like this every single day, I just want to sell the guild and buy a villa in some quiet resort town to live out my days in leisure.’
I let my stream of consciousness drift toward calculating a fair market price for the guild and the necessary funds for retirement.
“How much was that two-story villa in Haran? The one famous for its resorts. I think I saw a listing for it a while back.”
I set down my quill and began miming calculations with my fingers. Just as I was about to pick up a piece of paper to start drafting a serious retirement plan, the text on the page caught my eye.
“Gasp! This is the settlement report!”
I recoiled, dropping the quill like an office worker who had almost hit ‘save’ after entering wrong data into a company’s master file with no backup. The shock woke me up more effectively than a bucket of cold water.
They say spilling coffee is a better wake-up call than drinking it; I suppose nearly ruining a week’s worth of accounting has the same effect.
“Ugh. I need to focus, finish this, and get some rest. This won’t do.”
I shook my head vigorously to dispel the lingering intrusive thoughts of early retirement.
“Wow… it’s over.”
It was a victory for the human spirit.
I signed the final document and promptly collapsed. Even after several cups of strong tea, sleepiness crashed over me like a wave.
‘Even during my senior year of high school, I managed five hours of sleep a night.’
This week, my total sleep time barely scratched twenty hours. I slumped over the desk, having cleared just enough space among the documents to rest my head.
“Ugh… I’m dying.”
I’d done nothing but sit and process paperwork, yet my body ached as if I’d participated in an all-day track meet. It was the inevitable tax of borrowing energy from my future self via caffeine.
As soon as I closed my gritty eyes, sleep rushed in. I felt that if I let my guard down for even a second, I would lose consciousness right then and there. Summoning my last shred of willpower, I forced my eyelids open to check the window.
It was still dark outside.
‘It looks like it’ll be a few hours before the sun comes up.’
The appointment was around noon, so I still had some time.
‘If I assume it’s about 5:00 AM now, I can sleep for four hours, excluding prep time.’
Having done the math, I decided to close my eyes for just a moment. Just a tiny moment…
Hours later.
Despite falling asleep in such an uncomfortable position while exhausted, I woke up feeling incredibly refreshed. As if I’d had the most blissful, deep sleep in ages.
…Something was definitely wrong.
According to the biological big data accumulated over decades of my life, this feeling meant only one thing: I was late. And for an incredibly important engagement, no less.
My eyes snapped wide.
“The date!”
“Bill, a little faster!”
The scenery blurring past the window proved that Bill, the coachman, was doing his best, but my heart was racing faster than the horses.
“Yes, yes, Ma’am.”
After I urged him for the umpteenth time, Bill’s replies began to lose their sincerity.
Sorry, Bill. I’ll make it up to you later with some serious financial therapy.
I apologized silently while mentally cheering for Bill’s speeding.
‘Thank goodness for a world without traffic lights or road safety laws!’
My persistence paid off. A trip that usually took thirty minutes was cut down to less than twenty. I leapt from the carriage before it had even come to a full stop.
I heard Bill cry out in surprise behind me—“Whoa, Ma’am!”—but I ignored him. I had been a top-tier athlete for twelve years of schooling. It was a perfect landing.
“Phew.”
I had arrived at the townhouse on the outskirts of the capital, the usual spot for my dates with Theo. We were supposed to meet here and head to the opera together. I scanned the stables as I ran.
Fortunately, Theo’s carriage was still there. He hadn’t left yet.
“Theo? Are you here?”
I called out his name loudly to break the heavy silence of the house. As I stepped inside, the interior was dim. Theo, who would normally come out to greet me the moment he heard my footsteps, was nowhere to be seen.
He was definitely sulking.
And he had every right to be. Lately, I had been so busy that I’d been late to or canceled several of our plans.
‘Honestly, it’s a miracle he stayed patient this long.’
That was exactly why I’d tried so hard not to be late today. If I’d known I’d oversleep this much, I should have just slept at the townhouse last night. No, sleep is for the dead!
I headed toward the small drawing room where Theo spent most of his time, flicking on the magic lamps in the hallway as I went. Fortunately, the door to the drawing room was slightly ajar—a silent invitation that he wasn’t so angry he wanted me gone.
I stepped inside, treading as softly as possible.
There sat Theo on the sofa, arms crossed. He must have heard me come in, but he merely spared me a single glance before turning his head away. His resolve not to let me off easy this time was palpable.
I spoke first, my voice dripping with regret.
“Have you been waiting long? I’m so sorry. I accidentally fell asleep.”
While my mouth was busy apologizing, I moved quickly to his side, sat down, and pulled him into a hug. I stole a glance at him; his reaction wasn’t entirely negative.
Emboldened, I began to gently stroke his soft blonde hair and his cheek—wherever my hand could reach. Theo loved this kind of sweet, ticklish physical affection. Usually, when I stroked his hair, he’d narrow his eyes like a well-fed cat and wear a blissful expression.
But today, Theo’s expression remained heavy.
‘Change of strategy.’
I pivoted to full-on groveling.
“I really, truly messed up. I’m sorry.”
After a long bout of apologizing and coaxing, he finally met my eyes. However, the lips that usually smiled whenever he saw me were pressed into a firm, straight line. He stared at me for a moment with eyes full of sorrow, as if holding back a mountain of words, before finally speaking.
“You’re mean.”
His tone was resentful, as if he were forcing out words he had been trying to suppress. After throwing out that one sentence, he turned his head away again.
I froze mid-stroke, paralyzed like a character in a comic book.
To think that my sweet little kitty, who always spoke so beautifully, would say “You’re mean.”
I really am a terrible person. I felt the crushing guilt of a butler who had come home late from a company dinner and then accidentally stepped on the tail of the master who was meowing a lecture at him.
“I’m sorry, I really am. Let’s definitely go to that opera next time. When should we go? Tomorrow? The day after?”
Even in this moment, the mountain of paperwork growing on my desk was shoved to the back of my mind. Who cares about the company when Theo says he hates me!
“Rebecca, you’re busy.”
At his words, my bravado crumbled. Theo spoke in a dejected voice. He must have been deeply hurt; his blue eyes, usually the warm color of a resort sea, were brimming with tears.
He blinked hard, trying to hold them back, and bit his plump, reddish lip. He met my gaze with those watery eyes, as if waiting for my answer. I could almost hear the unspoken question ringing in my ears: ‘Is it work? Or is it me?’
I had made my cute, pretty, lovely kitty cry.
Curse this job. Curse my terrible self. I felt like I should be kneeling on a straw mat in the middle of the yard, begging for forgiveness. For a split second, I actually considered closing down the merchant guild. The wealth I had now was enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life, after all.
‘What kind of glory am I even chasing?’
Living as a jobless person and spending all day with my master—isn’t that the dream of every butler?
‘No. I need to earn more to feed our Theo delicious things and buy him pretty clothes.’
The impulse to quit vanished quickly; I wasn’t so rich that I could provide Theo with every whim without a care for money. Looking at Theo, who was wearing a tunic shirt made of high-quality material but with a pattern that was four years out of style, I reaffirmed my commitment to the guild.
Instead, I etched a shopping trip for Theo into my brain in bold, red calligraphy.
Then, I redoubled my efforts to soothe him.
“No, I’m not busy. I always have time for my Theo.”
“……”
“Do you know how much I missed you these past ten days?”
“How much?”
“As high as the sky and as deep as the earth. I almost cried because I missed you so much.”
My desperate display of aegyo—something I would normally never do—seemed to work. Finally, Theo leaned into me and whispered, “I missed you, too.”
I patted his back and stroked his hair as his large frame burrowed into my smaller embrace. His body was a bit—actually, quite—heavy, but I couldn’t risk ruining the thawing atmosphere. I treated it like a weight-training session and endured.
‘Oof. He looks so delicate and pretty that I didn’t realize he was this big when I first saw him.’
Rebecca Felice was taller than average, but Theo was a full head taller than her. His frame looked lean in clothes, but beneath them, his shoulders were broad and his bones were sturdy. It was a lovely sight, but a bit overwhelming when he clung to me like this.
‘Still, he’s big, so he’s extra cute.’
After spending enough time in each other’s arms to fully restore his mood, Theo spoke in a soft, melodic voice.
“Rebecca.”
