COARV Chapter 3

"So you do know. You were there too, weren't you? Of course you'd understand. The Saint descended from the heavens herself—of course she's different from these tainted nobles. But instead of even trying to understand, they spoke to her so harshly, drove her out—I can't believe it...."

"Begonia didn't say anything that harsh."

"She didn't?"

"No. She just told her not to make a spectacle out of me. That would be quite rude, from a noble's standpoint. Or—did the Saint say something else?"

Kallis's brow creased slightly.

"What she said to me was something similar. But the situation—"

"The situation?"

"Damn it, Seria."

Kallis dragged a hand roughly through his hair.

"You really like Begonia's dress that much?"

Of course I liked it. But did I like it enough to strain things with my fiancé over—like it so much I'd gone half mad for it? Not quite that either. It wasn't as if I'd go that far over a single dress.

But—

"Yes. I like it."

"That's..."

Since I was the one saying I liked it, there wasn't much room for Kallis to insist otherwise.

"But Lina—"

I looked at Kallis, cold.

"You're calling the Saint by her name?"

At that, Kallis's expression turned into one of realizing he'd made a mistake. And of course it would—he was engaged to me now. Calling another woman's name so familiarly was, without question, the kind of thing that got a man publicly condemned for it.

"...I misspoke. But Seria, understand—I've been made her official guardian."

"Oh, really?"

Ah. Of course, I'd already heard about that. Right—this was more of the original novel's territory too.

In the original, once Lina—the girl Seria had been itching to grind underfoot—suddenly landed a proper guardian in Kallis Haneton, Seria loses control of her temper.

That's when, enraged, she storms into where Lina is staying and throws a vase, injuring her—and Kallis flies into a rage over it.

Anyway. Every single one of these is a shortcut straight to the villainess's ruin.

To dodge the danger, I gave him a faint smile.

"I understand."

Kallis's expression relaxed with visible relief.

"I'm glad. I was worried you'd be angry. Then, sleep well, my beloved fiancée."

Kallis kissed my forehead and smiled. The same warm smile I'd grown so familiar with—and yet.

After Kallis left, I sat looking at the wedding dress left behind for quite a while.

The next day, ahead of their midday luncheon, Kallis sent his aide instead.

"Lady Seria, Marquess Kallis Haneton asked me to convey that unavoidable circumstances will prevent him from joining you for the luncheon today."

"And what circumstances would those be?"

"The Saint's divine power has yet to stabilize, and so..."

Lina. Again.

The aide fumbled through the explanation, and I nodded along.

"Lady Seria, the Marquess said without fail he won't be late for dinner tonight!"

"...Is that so."

I didn't put much faith in it.

Divine power doesn't stabilize in half a day. Not remotely. In fact, in the original, Lina's divine power took a long time to settle, and she struggled badly through the early chapters because of it. That's why the original's early chapters had been so brutal, honestly. Well, the female lead's gotta get dragged through the mud somehow.

And I could already picture the aide showing up again right before dinner with another "I'm so sorry, but the Saint..."—not a pleasant thought. If that was going to happen anyway, better not to waste the time waiting on it.

"Tell Kallis I'll be busy tonight, so dinner's off too."

"What? Do you have another dinner engagement, perhaps?"

"Yes."

"With whom, may I ask...."

"Do I have to spell out my whole personal life for you?"

I raised an eyebrow as I asked, and the aide flinched and bowed his head instantly. Well, the villainess's face still had its uses. Nothing more convenient, when it came to getting angry at someone. The aide, thoroughly apologetic, withdrew.

I mulled it over for a moment, then checked the clock.

I should head to the main castle, then.

I'd originally planned to have lunch with Kallis first and go afterward, but now I'd be heading over a little earlier than planned.

I looked around my bedroom. Lavish, as befit a high noble's quarters. Spacious, above all else. Thanks to being a "Stern," even though I was only here in Berke territory for the wedding, I'd been given the best guest cottage the castle had to offer.

The timing worked out well too, of course.

The master of this castle, and of the territory itself, Grand Duke Lesche Berke, was particular in some ways and not at all in others. Strict about his duties, about his knights—but when it came to entertaining noble guests, or matters of ceremony, he made no effort to hide how tedious he found the whole business.

A truly particular noble might weigh a visiting guest's rank, standing, influence, size of territory, whether married or unmarried, even whether male or female—down to the smallest detail—before deciding where to put them up. It wasn't rare at all.

But Lesche Berke was the exact opposite of that type, and I'd been granted this fine cottage, closest to the main castle, for the sole reason that I'd simply happened to arrive at Berke Castle first.

Well—I'd probably have gotten a top-tier cottage regardless. Seria was a Stern, after all. Berke territory never skimped on hospitality where a Stern was concerned.

That worked in my favor here, at least. I reached the main castle quickly and was able to meet with the Berke family's knight commander.

"Lady Seria, why do you look so unwell?"

Do I look unwell?

I answered a little sheepishly.

"I think it's this cold."

"You catch a cold every single year, my lady."

"So it seems."

The Berke family's knight commander, Elliot. He'd been one of the first to open his heart and lend me real help, right from the moment I became the reformed Seria. What was it he'd told me? Something about how nobody who genuinely reflects on themselves turns out to be a bad person.

I was just trying to survive, thanks.

Honestly, a man who spends his life swinging a sword and nothing else really is naive. Naive like that, in a world this brutal—how does he even mean to survive....?

"By the way, where are you headed?"

"...Where am I headed? Did I mishear the schedule, Commander?"

"Might this be about checking the glacier?"

"Of course."

"You've caught a cold, and you mean to head out to that frozen lake in this freezing winter? You've gone out there every single day this whole time already, my lady—that should be more than enough."

"Winter isn't over yet."

"That's true, but—"

Elliot's expression turned faintly complicated.

Berke territory was home to an extraordinary lake. A frozen lake, a glacier—a tomb for demonic beasts. Calling it a "lake" almost undersold it; it was so vast that neither end of it was visible from the other.

Periodically checking the seals on this glacier was a duty the Berke family had carried for generations, and for some reason, it required a woman bearing the surname "Stern." Because of that, Sterns were treated with rare honor. There were vanishingly few of them, too. This was, in fact, the very foundation that had let Seria Stern get away with raising hell for as long as she had.

A fairly important place in the original too, come to think of it.

Especially in the days right before and after the female lead Lina's descent—these next several days mattered even more.

On one of the regular days scheduled to check the lake, Seria suddenly refuses to go, throwing a tantrum. The reason, of course, is the female lead Lina. Furious that Lina had appeared out of nowhere as the Saint and stolen every ounce of attention for herself, Seria sulks—and, with the original's usual perfect sense of timing, a demonic beast happens to appear at the lake, which would otherwise have gone off without a hitch.

The territory's people pay dearly for it—especially a commoner couple who lose their child to the beast, and who throw stones at Seria in their grief, splitting her forehead open.

Of course, the utterly rotten Seria flies into a rage over it.

This world runs strictly on rank. A commoner couple, not knowing their place, dares to throw stones at a Stern—and are beheaded for it, without a second thought.

So really, all I have to do is just keep going out to check it myself, every single day, no exceptions.

"Well then—shall we head over together?"

"Let's."

I walked out to the stables with Elliot. My white horse, spotting me, gave a happy little snort and put on quite the show of affection. My beloved horse. I stroked its head.

"Hello there, Steed. I'm here."

"Must you really name him that?"

"Does it sound too much like a villain?"

Elliot shook his head, again and again. I tilted my head and climbed onto the horse.

For all that she looked too delicate to lift a sword, Seria Stern's riding skills were fairly impressive. You had to be able to ride to make it all the way around that enormous lake, after all.

I knew full well that keeping up my duties as a Stern was exactly what kept my position solid.

What a half-clever little villainess she'd been. I suppose "cunning" might be the more generous word.

The frozen lake was tremendously vast. Fog hung over it too, so visibility was never easy to come by. Elliot and I tied our horses at the designated spot and set off on foot.

"Hah—"

My breath rushed out, shattering white in the cold.

That was when it happened. Elliot's expression went cold in an instant, and at the same moment, his hand moved to his scabbard. Turning at the same time, he—

"Your Highness?"

Your Highness?

I turned around at once too. Startled, my eyes went wide for a moment.

"Your Highness the Grand Duke."

Lesche Berke.

The lord of this territory, and this original novel's own male lead. He was walking toward us through the fog with long, sure strides. He wore his massive sword at his hip, his signature red cloak wrapped around him. Lesche Berke's height was so imposing that I flinched slightly. Lesche's gaze swept over Elliot, then me, before he asked,

"What are you doing out here?"

"Your Highness, Lady Seria and I were checking the lake together."

At Elliot's answer, Lesche's expression twisted, faintly. Yes—it twisted.

Why? Why was he glaring at me like that?

I, who could read the male lead's expressions with uncanny precision, trembled a little. Had I done something wrong? Was there something wrong with what I was wearing?

Lesche looked at me and said,

"Lady Seria Stern."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Does my word mean nothing to you, my lady?"

"What?"

Excuse me, but do you have any idea how hard I shake in my boots at every word out of your mouth—and here you go, wounding my feelings like that.

"You've caught a winter cold, and you still insist on coming out to the lake—why?"

"My cold isn't severe. And besides, this is my duty as a Stern."

"Since when have you been so diligent about your duties?"

He really was sharp, being the male lead. Even though I'd gone out to check the glacier faithfully, every single day, since arriving at this castle. Lesche looked at me with eyes that trusted me not one bit.

"Or is it that you've caught a bad enough cold, Lady Seria, that you're simply trying to draw your fiancé's attention?"