TPPE 05

Chapter 05

As I grew older, that child told me more and more.

About the current ducal house and the situations of the other houses. About the rebel forces rising in the “Forbidden Land” and the Imperial Family’s movements to suppress them.

Thanks to the information he gave me, I was able to go from being a “useless child” to, at the very least, “a child with some understanding of the world.”

Around the time the scope of my confinement gradually expanded—from being restricted to my room to being allowed within the ducal estate—contact with him was cut off.

I wanted to find him, but the political climate was far too unstable because of the rebel activity. I couldn’t act recklessly.

Then one anxious day, when I turned eighteen, he came to me again.

[It’s the Day of Mercy.]

It had been months since we last spoke.

And after all that time, this was all he had to say.

[Why didn’t you come all this time?]

[Something came up.]

[I was worried. I kept waiting… I was afraid something might have happened to you—]

My pen stopped there.

I couldn’t continue.

I was afraid he might disappear again.

Afraid that, like the first time we met, I would cry—and he hated it when I cried.

Forcing my tears back, I wrote only a short sentence.

[I want to go outside.]

I want to be free.

And so… I want to meet you.

I couldn’t bring myself to write that part. It might burden him.

He disliked troublesome questions. I thought I would have to endure it even if no reply came.

But then—

Thud.

A response arrived.

[Do you want me to make that happen?]

As if bewitched, my hand moved.

[Yes.]

I wrote it even though I knew it was impossible.

Although my confinement had eased, I was still an Agnito. Unless I married someone, I would never be able to leave the Agnito name behind.

[Alright.]

But the reply that came was filled with certainty.

[I’ll make it happen.]

As if he truly could grant my long-cherished wish.

That certainty left me so dazed that, for the first time, I couldn’t reply.

And I had no time to think further.

“Get married, Hanisha.”

From that day on, the Duke of Agnito ordered me to marry.

To marry Rene—the leader of the rebels, and the abandoned illegitimate son of the Emperor.

‘What happened to him?’

After saying he would make it happen, he never contacted me again—not even until the wedding day.

‘Still… since he was my closest friend, I wanted to tell him myself that I was getting married.’

Of course, that past had now vanished. It was nothing but my memory alone.

Even so, I wanted to meet him once more.

‘If only I at least knew his name…’

I was leaving the library, lost in thoughts of the first girl friend I had ever made—

“Oh? Sister!”

I froze at the familiar voice.

Deep golden hair and green eyes. A lovely appearance.

Esther—Bert’s twin sister and my cousin.

On the Day of Mercy, the Saintess was supposed to go out into the streets and offer prayers of blessing in God’s stead.

But now that there was no Saintess, the Duke of Agnito had hidden me—the Saintess’s daughter—under the excuse that I was unwell. Esther had gone out in my place to assist with the event.

“Sister, why are you here alone? Where’s your nanny?”

“My nanny is…”

Before I could finish, Esther clapped her hands as if just remembering.

“Oh, right. You don’t have a nanny, do you? Just maids.”

“….”

“I must have forgotten after staying at the Temple for a few days. Sorry.”

She wrinkled her nose playfully and smiled.

I quietly looked at her.

When everyone else ignored me, Esther always called me “Sister.”

“Even if others speak badly of you, I won’t.”

“You and I both lost our mother. We’re sisters who share the same pain.”

“So you’ll be on my side too, right?”

Because of that, I truly thought I had become Esther’s sister.

Not realizing it was all a scheme to use me.

“Ugh, I’m so tired from going out in your place.”

Stretching lazily, Esther held out the small bag she was carrying.

“Sister, carry this for me. My arms hurt.”

There was probably nothing but a mirror inside that little bag. There was no reason for a young lady of House Agnito to carry anything heavy.

This was simply a display—to show that my position was lower than hers.

“Alright.”

I took Esther’s bag.

“Then you carry this.”

And I handed her the book I had been holding.

“Ah—!”

Barely managing to catch it, Esther blinked in disbelief.

“S-Sister. What are you doing?”

“Didn’t you mean we should share the load?”

“Why would I carry yours?”

“Really? Then why should I carry yours?”

“…What?”

Esther blinked, clearly flustered.

“…Sister, what do you mean? You—”

She nearly snapped in anger but steadied herself.

“…I went to the Day of Mercy event in your place. So you should help me.”

There was another meaning hidden in those words.

‘You know it’s because of you that the Saintess’s power was cut off, don’t you?’

—That kind of implication.

“Yes, thank you for that.”

So I answered honestly.

“But you won’t have to do that anymore.”

“…What?”

“It means you don’t have to take my place anymore. There’s no need now.”

“I—I don’t understand what you’re saying, Sister. I—”

“Who knows? What could I mean?”

I smiled brightly.

Esther’s face gradually clouded with unease.

Her mouth snapped shut.

She must have heard, on her way back to the estate, that I had fought with Bert.

But the one punished was Bert.

And I—who had been locked away for so long—was now walking freely outside.

‘And besides.’

Esther slowly lowered her gaze.

The books I had handed her were all about the Four Great Ducal Houses.

Books that any member of a ducal house should naturally read.

I could see a certain assumption forming in Esther’s mind.

For example—that perhaps the Duke had acknowledged me.

“T-That’s ridiculous. You can’t become a ducal lady like me!”

“Why not? You said we should live like real sisters.”

“That—that’s different…!”

Unable to find a proper rebuttal, Esther pressed her lips together.

That was the kind of person Esther was.

She would call us sisters and make me do things for her, yet she never intended to share any of the benefits she received.

That was when I realized—what Esther wanted wasn’t a sister.

She wanted to monopolize the family’s love.

But back then, I hadn’t tried to argue.

‘I truly… wanted to become family with you.’

Now I knew that wasn’t the case.

Unable to find words, Esther’s face flushed bright red. Her nose twitched—

“Waaah—!”

And she burst into tears.

“Mother—!”

As expected of twins, her cry sounded exactly like Bert’s.

“My lady!”

“My lady!”

Servants rushed over at the sound and lifted Esther into their arms.

“Why are you crying all of a sudden?”

“Waaah…!”

“Did you perhaps argue with Lady Hanisha?”

One servant looked at me in disbelief.

“N-No…!”

Afraid attention might shift to me, Esther hurriedly shook her head.

“It’s just… F-Father didn’t come to get me… I was startled…”

“Oh my.”

The servants sighed sympathetically, taking it as consideration on her part.

But having heard what happened earlier that day, they couldn’t bring themselves to scold me.

After all, the Temple already knew my condition wasn’t good. They wouldn’t want to create more trouble.

“I miss Mother. Waaah—!”

Esther began loudly calling for the late Duchess of Agnito.

“It’s alright. It’s alright, my lady.”

“Let’s go inside first. We’ve prepared your favorite scented oil. A warm bath will make you feel better.”

The maids—including her nanny—who had always cared for Esther gently soothed her and led her away from me.

The books I had placed in her arms fell weakly to the floor.

“…”

Left alone, I picked them up and returned to my room.

I wasn’t sad.

All of this was for what came next.

Only—

“Mother, I miss you. Waaah—!”

When someone is truly sad or heartbroken, they call for their mother.

They’re allowed to.

‘Then who should I call?’

If I called her name… would my mother in the heavens look at me with pity?

I didn’t know.

In my previous life, and even now in this returned life, I still had no family.

In any case, I didn’t cry.

“…Sniff.”

It was just that my nose turned red—

because I felt sad, and just a little resentful, that I didn’t know what it felt like to call for a mother.