Chapter 47
When he had once been called a fake, he’d seen the look of disgust in their eyes and experienced it bitterly.
Moreover, Rude was of lower status than even a commoner.
The only reason he was treated this decently at all was because he had entered at such a young age with the recommendation of the knight commander.
Had he come after becoming an adult, he would have been beaten and driven out.
And yet Baron was keeping such a person close as his escort knight?
Impossible.
Rude might not yet know Baron’s true nature, but Baron would never willingly keep Rude at his side.
“What is this…?”
Why would Baron keep Rude near him? Was it because of the swordsmanship he displayed during their sparring? If it were purely for his sword skills, then what exactly did Baron intend to use him for?
One question led to another, slowing Belia’s steps.
‘The knight who had stomach troubles.’
“How did he know it was stomach trouble?”
Even if he had tried to check separately why Rude had collapsed, Baron wasn’t the sort of man who would bother with that. The unease only deepened.
“This is strange…”
“My lady.”
“Hm?”
Belia, who had been staring absently at the ground lost in thought, turned to Su.
“There’s someone standing in front of your door.”
“What?”
“Greetings, my lady.”
Sensing someone right nearby, Belia turned her head toward the approaching figure.
“Ah…”
Her dark eyes widened.
“It’s an honor to meet you. My name is Rude.”
Rude bowed politely.
“My lady, I trust you. So please—don’t think of yourself as a fake.”
The sight overlapped with the past Rude who had once returned after winning the Toronia Swordsmanship Tournament, vowing to prove his honor.
Back then, his worn uniform had looked shabby. Now, the neat new uniform suited him perfectly.
Click—
The sound of the teacups meeting rang unnaturally loud.
Belia carefully studied Rude, who sat before her, tense as could be.
Though Su’s expression had looked strange ever since she realized they were sitting at the same table as a knight, Belia ignored it.
She couldn’t just send Rude away like this.
‘Thank you. No, I’m sorry.’
She repeated the words she couldn’t voice dozens of times in her heart before finally speaking.
“So, you’re my eldest brother’s escort knight?”
Belia tried hard to conceal her tangled emotions.
“Ah, yes! My name is Rude!”
He put such emphasis on his own name, but Belia only pretended not to notice and lifted her tea again.
“Is that so? I don’t… recall ever seeing you before.”
“Ah, is that so.”
Belia glanced at him briefly, then flinched.
In the eyes where disappointment should have lingered, there was only pure goodwill.
She instinctively averted her gaze.
Like a dog waiting for its master, those eyes were filled with unconditional, earnest affection—without even a trace of resentment toward the one who had given him his name and then forgotten.
“Still the same…”
Belia muttered softly and sipped her tea again.
“Pardon?”
“Nothing. So, what brings you here?”
“Ah, I came to deliver this!”
“Deliver?”
Belia frowned slightly at the object wrapped in paper.
“The young master ordered me to deliver this gift to you, my lady.”
“A gift… from him to me?”
Belia froze, recalling how Baron had mentioned earlier that he’d be sending one.
“Ah, so that’s what this is. Quite fast.”
She reached out and tore the wrapping open carelessly.
“Uh…”
Rude scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
The packaging was ripped apart in all directions and scattered across the floor.
“Wow—”
“Oh—”
Su and Rude gasped at the same time.
Beneath a layer of clear crystal, a beautiful blue liquid shimmered.
The crystal statue shaped like an angel was obviously luxurious at first glance.
Unlike the two who admired it, Belia studied the gift silently before suddenly bursting into laughter.
“So he thought I wouldn’t know.”
After a while, she finally spoke.
“Huh?”
‘Belial.’
The name of a demon from ancient theology, whose name resembled her own.
A demon said to possess the most beautiful, angelic appearance but whose essence was utterly corrupted.
The outward form of Belial was something only those who had studied ancient theology would know—few among the nobility had.
Unless one had been sent to study in the Holy Kingdom, it was hardly ever taught.
But Belia was different. In her previous life, while plotting possible escape routes, she had considered the Holy Kingdom as an option, and so had studied theology.
The depiction of Belial in the books was so beautiful she still remembered it vividly.
“This must be Bea!”
At Su’s pointing, Belia looked again and laughed once more.
A tiny crystal Bea, draped over Belial’s arm, made her shake her head.
“I never thought he’d heap a curse on me so blatantly.”
“Eh?”
“Nothing. My brother put a lot of effort into this.”
In ancient theological texts, “Belial” also meant useless or worthless.
To send a figure of Belial adorned with Bea, a symbol of luxury, was likely meant as a biting criticism.
Click—
Belia reached out and picked up the statue.
“It’s light.”
Up close, its delicate craftsmanship was evident—it had been made with great care.
“My lady, do you like it?”
Seeing Rude’s hopeful eyes, Belia smiled faintly.
“Yes.”
And with that answer, she loosened her grip.
“Ah!”
“Oh my!”
Crash—
The statue shattered to pieces on the cold marble floor.
The broken angel wings were especially striking.
“Pffft—”
Belia laughed loudly again.
The neatly broken wings made the gift feel even more fitting.
“It’s my brother’s gift, but oh well.”
Though she spoke as if regretful, her face looked oddly delighted.
“You are worthless. In the end, you will only fall.”
Those cold blue eyes seemed to flicker before her, and Belia bent down to pick up a broken wing.
“My lady! That’s dangerous—”
Rude stopped mid-sentence.
Blue liquid trickled from the wing onto Belia’s hand.
The sight of her dark eyes gleaming as she stared at it, almost demon-like, made Rude draw in a sharp breath.
“I never knew my brother had such a cute side.”
What reaction had he expected her to have?
He had spoken so indifferently, yet put in so much effort into preparing this.
There was no way he had made it in a few hours—it must have been crafted long ago with the intent of giving it to her.
“Amusing.”
The thought of Baron naively expecting her to display it in her room made him seem both adorable and despicable.
“Tell him I said thank you.”
“Pardon?”
“Tell my brother I was touched to receive his gift. Rude.”
As Belia smiled, Rude, who had been staring at her blankly, quickly nodded.
“Ah, yes!”
“More importantly, what is this liquid?”
“Ah, my lady, please use this.”
Rude hurriedly pulled a handkerchief from his chest and offered it. Soon, the white fabric was stained blue.
“I’ve never seen anything like it…”
Belia casually wiped her right hand and then brought the liquid closer to her nose.
“It doesn’t smell like much… just some kind of ornament, maybe?”
“I’ve seen toys like that in the marketplace! They put liquid in glass and decorate it to sell.”
“Really?”
“Yes!”
Belia pouted slightly, then finished wiping her hands.
“Well then…”
“M-my lady!”
Belia, about to dismiss him, froze at Rude’s sudden outcry.
Realizing he had interrupted her, his face flushed red.
“Ah, I-I’m sorry. I just—”
“It’s fine.”
Leaning back against the sofa, Belia gestured for him to go on.
Meanwhile, Su gathered the glass shards from the floor.
“Ugh, this stain looks like it’ll stay… I’ll go throw this out, my lady.”
“Alright.”
Click—
Even after Su left, the room remained quiet.
Belia didn’t rush Rude, instead watching him intently.
‘I wanted to set him free… but now he serves Baron…’
What if those clear, loyal eyes were directed not at her, but at Baron?
The thought alone made her chest ache.
In the end, when time passed and death came, she would attack Baron.
Even if she died branded as a fake in this life, no matter what, she had sworn to drag Baron to hell with her.
But what if, at that moment, Rude stood at Baron’s side, trying to protect his master from her?
Could she truly cut down such a faithful knight?
Once a knight swore to serve a master, he could not simply abandon them on his own.
Tov had been a rare exception—normally, it required the master’s permission.
