Chapter 4
“Oh my goodness, this is unbelievable!”
Exclaiming in astonishment, Cordelia slowly touched her face. The handsome man in the mirror mimicked her every movement. The skin, though soft, felt slightly rough, clearly showing signs of neglect. Yet, since it was free of blemishes and healthily tanned, it looked vibrant.
Her bangs brushing against her eyes were a bit annoying, but tolerable.
Quickly pressing her hands to her forearm and chest, she felt solid muscles nestled beneath the thin skin. When she cautiously lowered her gaze, thick thighs came into view. Exaggerating a little, they seemed almost as big as her waist.
“Wow, look at those arms! So thick! And those thighs too!”
His face and body lacked nothing to become a romance novel’s male lead. Good heavens, a man like this actually existed!
Feeling a surge of inspiration she hadn’t felt in a long time, Cordelia rummaged through the desk drawer. Luckily, amidst the clutter, there were a few sheets of paper. She pulled one out, opened the ink bottle on the desk, and dipped the quill’s tip.
Then she began writing enthusiastically across the page.
“Let’s see… He looks gentle, but with this face, maybe he’s secretly calculating… No, no, a classic, devoted, affectionate man would be nice too! But still, he knows he’s handsome, so he seduces the woman he loves with his looks…”
Cordelia, getting carried away and becoming increasingly cruel to a stranger she had just met, suddenly tilted her head.
“Hm? Feels like I forgot something.”
It wasn’t until she noticed the low voice and the thick yet elegant fingers gripping the pen that she recalled what she had forgotten.
The callused fingers, so different from the beautiful face, were quite striking. Straightening her back, she clapped her hands lightly.
“Oh! My body changed, didn’t it!”
When she was immersed in work, Cordelia tended to be far more expressive than usual—and today was no exception.
So, this must be this guy’s room too, right?
Realizing her actions were rude, Cordelia gently put down the pen. Then she quickly scanned the surroundings before cautiously picking up the paper she had been writing on and tucking it into her clothes. She cast a furtive glance at the mirror and murmured an apology to the body’s owner.
“Sorry, I’ll make it up to you later.”
After muttering that, Cordelia took a closer look around the room. Though not as grand as the mansion she lived in, the space was fairly large and had everything necessary. The furniture wasn’t ostentatious, but the delicately carved patterns hinted at high value.
Moving toward the large window, she saw tree branches heavy with leaves and birds fluttering away.
Second floor, maybe? No doubt this was a mansion. Whoever this man was, he was clearly wealthy.
“But seriously, why did this happen?”
She had wished to date such a man, not become him.
Suddenly, she felt wronged. To think such a face existed while she had wasted her life! Was this what it felt like to suffer a major life loss?
What was his original personality like? Hopefully, not one of those rude brutes obsessed with possessiveness. With a face like this, she could endure a bit of a bad temper. It would be even better if he could hold his liquor.
But something felt strange. Cordelia stared intently at the mirror. The man’s face, blinking slowly, looked oddly familiar.
“Feels like I’ve seen him somewhere before…”
But how could she not remember a face like this?
It wasn’t like the world was overflowing with men matching her tastes—it was already barren in that regard. If she had seen such a man, surely some trace of the memory would remain.
Even if she couldn’t recall the exact face, digging deep into her memory should at least bring up: ‘Ah, I once saw an incredibly handsome guy!’
Wait a minute. Judging by his face, he must be at least in his twenties, so maybe they met when she was very young…
Just as something was about to surface, a knock sounded. Cordelia almost squeaked but managed to swallow the sound.
“Young master, is something the matter?”
A deep voice came from beyond the door. Cordelia quickly composed her voice.
“Ah, nothing at all.”
Thankfully, she managed a calm tone. Life in high society had taught her the art of quick thinking and acting. Whatever the situation, making enemies openly was never wise.
She glanced down at her clothes: a white shirt and brown trousers. Simple and plain, though too casual for going out.
Opening the wardrobe on the opposite wall, she found only a few modest garments. She picked the most suitable for going outside and clicked her tongue inwardly. A house like this, yet such plain clothes?
Whoever this man was, once things were sorted out, she’d definitely get him a proper wardrobe.
He had money to spare, so why not contribute to the beauty of the world? Besides, his face wasn’t overly flashy, so stylish clothes would suit him perfectly.
“All right, first, I need to check the duke’s mansion.”
Confirming what happened to her own body was the priority.
She changed into an outfit for going out, brushed her bangs back, and pulled a brown cap snugly over her head. After pocketing the coin pouch she’d found earlier in the desk drawer, she absentmindedly opened the door—and nearly screamed.
Standing right outside was the elderly butler she thought had left. The man, a head shorter than her, looked at her curiously.
“Young master?”
“Why are you here—uh, I mean… why are you here, sir?”
She almost spoke informally but quickly switched to polite speech after reading his expression. Inwardly, she thought it was refreshing that this man’s personality was polite enough to warrant courtesy even toward a butler.
He must be particular about manners—not a bad thing.
“You seemed unusually unresponsive today, so I worried something might be wrong. Didn’t you have plans?”
“Oh, um… did I? I’m not sure. What did I say before?”
“Pardon? Well, you mentioned going to the market. And I recall you saying you’d soon meet a new client.”
A client? What kind of work uses terms like that? Could he be working for a guild? But normally, guild income alone wouldn’t be enough to maintain a mansion like this.
“Breakfast is ready in the dining room. Madam said she had no appetite and asked that you eat first.”
Madam? For a moment, Cordelia’s heart sank at the thought he might be married—but then she remembered being called ‘young master’ and calmed down.
If she was the young master, then the madam was obviously his mother. She cut off her spiraling thoughts. Jumping to conclusions and judging someone she didn’t even know was rude.
First, check her original body, then figure out how to return—plenty of time to think later.
Cordelia smiled and agreed, and the butler quietly led the way. Following him, she pondered what to do next.
She suspected magic was involved, but the thought of investigating it felt overwhelming. In this country, magic was strictly under the temple’s jurisdiction. Unless you were attending a state event or visiting the temple, even nobles rarely encountered it.
Of course, imagination was free, so she had used it in her stories when inspiration ran dry—like when a wizard’s spell linked the dreams of the hero and heroine. But for bodies to actually swap?
Reality truly surpassed imagination.
For now, she had to focus on what she could do. Quietly clenching her fist, she adjusted her stride to match the longer steps this body allowed, once again realizing she had possessed someone else’s body.
They went downstairs, through the lobby, and into a dining room at the end of the left corridor.
Though called a dining room, it was about the size of an ordinary room, furnished with only a table that could seat six people.
She waited silently as steaming potato soup, rye bread, a basket full of boiled eggs, and a jar of honey were placed on the table.
Though plainer than what she usually ate, Cordelia began her meal without complaint.
She was used to dining alone—she was the only direct family member living at the duke’s mansion. Rick often visited, but eating across from that man was unpleasant for many reasons.
After eating her fill, she rang the bell, and a woman who seemed to be a maid entered. Through the doorway, Cordelia glimpsed the empty corridor again and felt a flicker of doubt.
She had noticed it on the way here too—the mansion seemed sparsely staffed for its size. Was that why it felt so desolate?
“There’s something I forgot. Could you bring it for me?”
“Yes, young master. What would you like?”
“A pen, I think… I probably left it in the room where I usually work.”
Bowing politely, the maid left. Cordelia rose slowly, slipped out the door, and followed her quietly. As expected, the maid entered a room at the end of the right corridor.
When the maid, who was scanning the room carefully, turned and saw Cordelia leaning against the doorway, her eyes widened in surprise.
“Young master?”
“On second thought, it’s easier if I find it myself than trouble you. Go ahead with your work.”
Her gentle, soothing tone erased any suspicion from the maid’s face as she bowed and left. Watching her go, Cordelia grew certain: whatever this man’s true nature, he clearly treated those around him with kindness.
Once the maid left and the door closed, she finally examined the room freely.
“Wow…”
The room was far larger than she expected. A massive canvas stood on the left, and most of the objects were covered with fabric, making them hard to identify.
On the large wooden table, items were scattered in disarray—except for the neatly arranged brushes and paints. The wide variety of pigments suggested considerable wealth. Judging by the room’s structure and materials, this was far beyond a rich young master’s simple hobby.
“Does he paint?”
A place for creating things. Realizing that made Cordelia feel oddly embarrassed, like she had glimpsed someone’s naked soul.
Then something caught her eye.
“What’s that…?”
