Chapter 14
Smack!
My head whipped to the side. I barely managed to keep my balance. My right cheek burned, and there was a ringing in my ears.
In the past, I would’ve just trembled in fear. But not anymore.
This time, I had only one thought in my mind:
Who do you think you are to hit me?
“What do you think you’ve been doing lately?”
My father, the Marquis, asked coldly after slapping me across the face.
There was a newspaper extra on his desk—the same one I saw earlier.
It read:
[Today is the birthday of the most beautiful lady of the Bartoli family, Sophia ta Bartoli.]
Ugh. I should’ve realized it would’ve reached our house too—it was spread across the entire Empire.
And if there’s one thing my father absolutely can’t tolerate, it’s bringing shame to the Bartoli name.
Seeing the name “Bartoli” in that article, especially in such a silly headline, definitely crossed the line in his book.
“Your fiancé is dead, and yet you act carelessly, causing scenes? Don’t you feel any shame toward the Duke’s family?”
I stayed silent—because I wasn’t ashamed.
Besides, that headline was published by the Duke’s eldest son.
Of course, Owen ta Glentino probably didn’t think I’d get slapped for it when I came home.
My father clicked his tongue in disgust. That judgmental look? I was used to it.
He scowled as he stared at my hair.
Then I remembered—why I came to hate my hair color in my previous life.
It was because of him.
I kept my head down—not because I felt sorry, but because I was admiring the carpet pattern.
The Marquis had annoyingly good taste. Figures—he is a Bartoli.
The fact that we had similar taste just made me even more irritated.
Then I heard his voice again.
“You’re grounded for a week. No going out. No meals.”
“…Yes, sir.”
He nodded at the butler.
“Lock her in her room.”
The butler looked at me with a guilty face as he held out his hand.
I guess I needed an escort even for house arrest.
Me being escorted to my room under the Marquis’s orders quickly became entertainment for the staff.
The ones loyal to my father snickered at me.
The ones loyal to my mother just looked worried.
I ignored them all and walked proudly.
Seeing me neither frightened nor sad made all of them whisper—regardless of whose side they were on.
That part, at least, felt good.
Once I got to my room, Bessie paced in worry.
She would have to leave soon, too.
“Young Lady… What are we going to do?”
“I’m fine, Bessie.”
I answered calmly. I already expected this.
As I sat on the bed, I noticed a pile of unopened birthday gifts stacked in the corner.
Oh, right…
Today was my birthday.
One that everyone in the Empire knew about.
When I woke up, it was completely dark outside.
Popo was licking my face, so I gave her a few gentle pets.
“Are you comforting me? Thanks, Popo.”
My stomach growled. But since I had a big brunch earlier at the Duke’s house, I wasn’t starving.
Owen had offered me raisin cookies, too.
Regret hit me—I should’ve taken them.
At least Popo won’t go hungry.
She can hunt rabbits or mice or bugs in the garden.
If I get really desperate, I’ll ask her to catch me a fish. There are matches in the room—I’ll just cook it myself.
Not sure if she’ll understand me though.
I sat down at the tea table.
If I tried to think positively, this was a good chance.
A good time to organize my thoughts and plan what’s coming.
I pulled out a small notebook and picked up my pen.
[1. Owen]
I wrote it without thinking and was startled.
I had absentmindedly written his name.
Well… I guess this is something I need to deal with too.
First, I needed to contact Eloise and ask what the hell was going on.
Where did she find Arne? How did she make him out to be my child?
The problem was—I had no idea where Eloise even was.
…Not something I could solve just by thinking. So I set that aside and listed the major events happening around this time:
[1. The Empress’s Birthday Ball
2. Arnold’s Death
3. Appointment of a new High Councilor]
Number 2 was originally supposed to happen a few years later, but now it had already happened.
That was strange. It wasn’t related to my return to the past… was it a butterfly effect?
Something I changed without realizing?
As for 1, nothing major happens, but I’ll need a new dress.
The dress I was supposed to wear was taken by Leonie.
What did I do last time?
Right, I had to alter an old one. It wasn’t perfect, but I had no time to get a new one made.
Number 3 probably already happened.
I remember because Leonie’s favorite maid, Adelaide from the Capoletti family, was appointed.
It was talked about a lot.
…That’s enough planning for now.
Oh, right.
I also need to cancel that assassination request on Leonie.
To do that, I have to contact Bambi—the assassin I hired.
If I sneak into the back alleys of the capital, I could probably find him.
But sneaking out right now is impossible.
So I’ll have to wait for him to show up—he usually drops by once every week or two.
It’s been a long time since I last saw Bambi.
I pet Popo, who had jumped into my lap, as I thought about him.
Bambi and I weren’t just in an assassination contract—he had done much more for me.
He’d sit by while I rambled on endlessly.
He’d share news about Leonie and the royal family.
He even saved my life—if he hadn’t given me the antidote, I would’ve died from Leonie’s poison.
He got snarkier as he grew up, but looking back, even when he was little, he always took care of me—even if his tone was rough.
I didn’t notice at first because he looked so cold.
He always wore black, and at night, only his red eyes would shine in the darkness.
Just like the boy sitting on the balcony railing right now.
…Wait a minute.
I blinked a few times before I realized it wasn’t a dream.
“Bambi!”
Before I knew it, I jumped up and ran toward the balcony.
A handsome boy with jet-black hair, pale skin, and red eyes looked at me with a crooked grin.
“I told you not to call me Bambi.”
That voice—it was exactly how I remembered it.
Oh god.
It’s really him.
It’s Bambi—as a boy.
I smiled wide and opened my mouth. I felt like crying.
I never thought I’d experience this again.
The boy, about my age, smiled and popped something into my mouth.
Chocolate.
It melted softly on my tongue.
Maybe because I was hungry… or maybe because it had been so long since I had Bambi’s chocolate again…
It tasted unbelievably sweet.
Whatever face I made must’ve been funny, because he looked amused.
“Tastes good, huh?”
“So, so good.”
I nodded quickly. My mouth was full, so my words came out a bit muffled.
He smiled even more.
A proud kind of smile—but his tone didn’t change much.
“Typical kid. Loves sweets.”
“I’m not a kid,”
I laughed to myself.
Right, around this time, Bambi used to pretend he was older than me.
He only told me his real age later—and it turned out he was actually a year younger than me.
Bambi died before he even turned thirty-five.
He was killed by one of Leonie’s knight guards.
To be honest, I don’t remember much about the moment he died.
Maybe my brain erased the memory from the shock.
I just remember that it was a cold winter day.
I was in a storage shed, holding Bambi’s bloodied body and crying.
I sat there, frozen, for a long time—until I got frostbite on my feet and became sick for days.
Even after that, I dreamed of Bambi’s death often.
Even though I rarely cried as an adult, I always woke up with a wet face after those dreams.
Now, seeing Bambi alive again…
It made me want to cry, but I tried to act like it was nothing.
If I cried now, it would be weird.
He’d probably tease me for being a crybaby.
As I was trying to hold it together, Bambi, watching me closely, suddenly said—
