TRHK Chapter 1

"No! This can't be happening. Sister!"

An arrow pierced my chest. Into the burning pain and my fading mind, Dana's desperate scream came pouring in.

I wanted to say I was fine, but I couldn't even part my lips. My body too, as if it had given up, my eyelids sank slowly down.

I would probably never open my eyes again. My gut told me so.

If I regretted anything, maybe it was just this—never seeing Dana's wedding, never seeing the wide world…

And so, in the forest where I'd spent most of my life shut away, that's how I died.

1. The Maylin Who Became Maylin

When my mother fell ill with a sickness no one could name, and the physicians kept shaking their heads and leaving our house, the villagers began to whisper that she'd been cursed.

In the end, the two of us—mother and daughter—were driven out to live in a small cabin in the forest. The villagers wouldn't let my mother, or me, her daughter, so much as show our faces near the village.

At least it was some comfort that a kind relative in another village, one without children of her own, took my sister Dana in and raised her. Though we couldn't meet often—I was wary of watching eyes—knowing Dana was living well was enough.

Long years passed. My mother died, and just as I was preparing to step out into the world, Dana came to our forest cabin to tell me she would soon be married. The baker's son, was it? Dana called him simple and sweet-faced, but I'd never actually seen him, so I didn't take her word for all of it.

That day of all days, the dark came down fast. Worried about Dana heading home after telling me the news, I crept after her in secret. I only meant to watch until she was clear of the forest.

Thankfully, none of the wild beasts or lurking strangers I'd feared showed themselves. But a hunter's blind arrow ended up flying straight at Dana. From the way he shouted "Look out!" right after, I suspect he'd mistaken her for something else in her dark robe. I kicked off the ground and ran, and took the arrow in her place.

That was how I died.

I remember with perfect clarity the moment death's shadow engulfed my body, and I was certain—no matter what a physician might try afterward—I would never live again.

And then, unbelievably, like some kind of lie, I opened my eyes again. The arrow that had pierced my chest had vanished without a trace. I sat there fidgeting with a chest that didn't have so much as a scar on it, unable to come to my senses for a long while.

"……What's got you so startled?"

"Gah!"

The unfamiliar voice startled a sharp breath out of me. I turned my head and found a young woman I'd never seen before, sitting on the next bed over, watching me like I was strange.

"What's got you so startled? And—why are you all of a sudden pawing at your own chest?"

"……"

I learned her name later. Eifel. A maid who shared a room with me. Brown hair, and a face with a sharp charm to her slightly upturned eyes, the look of someone prim and standoffish to match. She didn't seem particularly fond of me, but every so often, when I couldn't quite gather myself, she'd throw me a worried glance.

There was good reason I couldn't gather myself.

I had woken in another world. With the same name as my last life. The same face.

If that had been all, my confusion might have faded sooner—but unfortunately, this "other world" was…

the inside of a novel I had read.

〈The Sword God's Adventure〉 was an adventure novel where the hero overcomes every misfortune and hardship thrown at him and, through god-given talent and sheer passion, finally becomes a Sword Master.

Among the many books I'd read aloud to my bedridden mother, that one had stuck with me for reasons beyond simply enjoying it—chiefly because a supporting character shared my exact name. I hadn't expected the face to match too.

The maid of House Coutner. "Maylin."

"Maylin, from the moment I first laid eyes on you, my soul has been imprisoned in a cell called love—"

For reference, the Maylin of this world heard confessions of that particular flavor several times a day.

"A dazzling beauty whose long golden hair, glowing softly as though it cradled sunlight itself, set the whole village abuzz the moment she swayed down the street."

Something along those lines, if I recalled the description correctly. In my last life I'd had black hair, and no one from the village dared come near the two of us for fear the curse might spread to them, and I went around with my face hidden under a robe, so I'd barely experienced anything like this. Though there had been one boy who'd approached me, once…

"Maylin? Are you listening?"

A man blocking my path pulled me out of a memory I'd rather not have revisited.

"Ah. ……I need to get to work."

"Just a moment, Maylin! I wasn't finished!"

He reached out to grab my arm, so I quickly pulled myself back out of reach.

"Ugh!"

He seemed to trip over his own feet, staggered hard, and nearly went sprawling on the floor. The water in the bucket I carried sloshed violently. A merchant come to sell goods to the count's house, was it? I'd already forgotten his name.

"Oi. What do you think you're doing to the lady?"

While I was still puzzling over how to shake off this stubborn one, a man passing through the corridor stepped in and stopped the merchant. A knight with red hair tied back at the nape. I could tell he was a knight because no one in this castle who wasn't one walked around with a longsword at their hip like that.

"A-ah, it's nothing, sir knight. I'll be going, then."

The instant the knight stepped in, the merchant backed away and bolted.

I thought that settled it, but the knight who'd helped me didn't go on his way—he just stood there in front of me, shifting on his feet, awkward. Ah. I hadn't thanked him yet.

"Thank you."

"……N—not at all, my lady."

I'd always understood "lady" to be for noblewomen. For some reason, this knight kept using it for me, a maid, without fail.

And even after I'd thanked him, why was he still lingering? Having spent more than ten years with barely a conversation with anyone but my mother and sister, my own lack of social ease was something I felt keenly myself. I had no idea what more I was supposed to say in a situation like this.

"Where were you headed? I—I'll carry that for you."

He fumbled to take the bucket from me, hurried and clumsy. I pulled it back out of reach.

"I'm fine. I need to get to work."

I dipped my head once and stepped past him. He looked like he had more to say, but unlike the merchant, he didn't try to stop me.

"Ma'am. I'm here. Let me get right to washing your feet."

The moment I stepped into the dim room, I raised my voice deliberately as I pulled back the curtains. The dreary room went bright in an instant, flooded with sunlight.

I sat the Dowager, her face blank, down in her chair, and turned her head so she could take in the view outside the window. Then I knelt in front of her and washed her feet. That was what the bucket had been for.

Ten days already, somehow, since I'd woken in this other world. In the middle of all this bewilderment, if there was exactly one thing that felt familiar, it was caring for the sick. I'd been doing it since I was a child—nursing a sick mother—until I was sick to death of it.

"The clouds look just like a bird today. That one there's the beak. Don't you think?"

Rambling on to myself like that was familiar too. The Dowager Countess—the count's mother—never spoke, but she never ignored what I said, either. Watching her follow my lead and study the clouds made me smile.

I went on chattering alone for a while longer, then put her down for her rest and left the room.

If someone were watching my face right now, they'd be startled at how fast it goes dark the instant the door shuts.

"Maylin! You washed the Dowager's feet, I trust?"

The housekeeper found me in the corridor, sharp-tempered as ever.

"Yes."

"As if I could take your word for it. Slack off again and you'll feel the switch!"

The Maylin of the original story hadn't worked hard, and cut corners whenever she could. No wonder the housekeeper spoke to me like that. I nodded obediently and slipped into the row of maids scrubbing the corridor. Behind me, I caught the housekeeper muttering.

"Why's she been so well-behaved lately?"

Probably because the contents had changed, though of course I couldn't say so. I had no idea where the original Maylin had gone. Maybe she'd gone the other way—into my body, from my last life. Assuming that body was even still alive.

Thwack.

"Oh, sorry—I was passing it to you."

One of the maids threw her broom at me on purpose. Laughter rippled among the others scrubbing the corridor.

The maids here disliked me—disliked "Maylin." According to the book, the biggest reason was that Maylin used to boast about herself constantly and look down on everyone else.

Eifel, my roommate, also scrubbing the corridor nearby, kept her eyes on her window and pretended not to see. Of course I felt nothing like disappointment over it.

……It was almost like being a child again. Right before we were driven into the forest, I remembered the village children tormenting me, saying that since my mother was cursed, I must be too. And every time that happened, here's what I'd do.

Thwack.

"Ah!"

Generally, the same thing back. The maid hit by the broom I'd thrown yelped and fell over backward. I trudged over, picked the broom up off the floor, and said, with no effort at sincerity whatsoever:

"Sorry."

I'll say it again—my social skills haven't grown a day since then. I started sweeping the corridor without waiting for a reply, and behind me I could hear the maids getting worked up, snapping about what the hell was wrong with me.

The original Maylin, despite that personality, had struggled badly under the maids' bullying. So she'd told Joel Coutner—the count and countess's son, who was infatuated with her—and had a great many of them dismissed.

I would never do that. Not for the maids' sake. For my own sake—this body's sake—I couldn't afford to.

Because it'd only put me in more danger.

I'd thought I'd died, and instead had opened my eyes clean in another world. This world's "Maylin" was, at her core, someone else entirely—but she shared my name and my face. And the people here didn't shun me as cursed, either. Couldn't I just enjoy it, then?

……That's what I'd thought too, at first.

Until I realized that the maid Maylin, in The Sword God's Adventure, dies young.

Not even from illness or accident. Precisely: murdered, and the murder staged to look like one.

By none other than the count and countess of House Coutner.