ISTV 33

The shocking fact that Garen had skipped his own entrance ceremony to attend my coming-of-age ceremony was only the beginning—something even more shocking happened.

‘Why is the Princess of the Secret Palace here?’

She still looked like she hated me. There could be only one reason for her presence. Jeremiel.

‘Jeremiel is having his coming-of-age ceremony here?’

Seriously?

He came all the way from the western edge to the eastern edge?

It must’ve taken him several months just to travel.

“The third daughter of House Dvernon, Sayla Dvernon, greets the Princess of the Secret Palace.”

“……”

She accepted my greeting with nothing more than a small nod.

I couldn’t see her face clearly beneath the veil, but her fierce gaze was unmistakable.

I still didn’t know what I’d done so wrong, but I decided not to provoke her for no reason.

“It’s been a while, Sayla.”

“Jeremiel. Are you receiving your coming-of-age ceremony here too?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

Jeremiel’s eyes curved into crescent moons.

“Just thought I’d drop by while traveling with my mother.”

“…Really?”

As we exchanged greetings, Garen reached out his hand.

“Yo. Rattlesnake. Been a while.”

“Long time no see, Monkey.”

Jeremiel grasped Garen’s hand.

It felt like sparks flew between them.

Garen seemed to be putting all his strength into it, and Jeremiel appeared to be redirecting that strength using a Secret Palace technique.

‘I thought Garen had become nicer, but… somehow his social skills seem worse.’

It felt like he was picking a fight with everyone around me.

I was already worried about how he’d survive at a boarding academy like that.

The Princess of the Secret Palace spoke.

“So you’re Sayla’s brother, Garen.”

“Yes. I’m Sayla’s real brother, Garen.”

He bowed politely in response to her comment.

Then the princess said something strange.

“Not exactly thrilled, in several ways.”

My head started to ache.

Garen had badmouthed House Hamun while in Queibec territory, he was currently in a silent power struggle with Jeremiel, and now the Princess of the Secret Palace seemed visibly displeased by something too.

And on top of it all, the stares we were getting from others were overwhelming.

Then Themanon and Rachel appeared.

As the temple doors opened and the couple entered, countless people placed a hand over their chest and bowed in respect.

Themanon raised his right hand slightly to acknowledge their greetings and then approached me.

“Sayla. There you are. Why did you go ahead when I said we should depart together?”

Then the princess cut in.

“Themanon. I must be invisible to you.”

“I see you. But what can I do when my eyes see Sayla first?”

Her aura softened slightly with Themanon’s arrival.

It seemed even the Princess of the Secret Palace had a favorable view of Themanon.

“Arsagil. There’s a tingling energy all over outside the temple. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stir things up like that in my domain. You’re scaring people.”

“Hmph.”

Arsagil turned away, visibly annoyed.

Themanon chuckled.

“Arsagil’s been prickly lately. She wasn’t like this before.”

Then he handed me a small bouquet.

“Here. A gift for your coming-of-age ceremony.”

“Thank you.”

“The real gift will come afterward. Too many eyes here for that.”

“Just the thought means a lot. Thank you.”

I didn’t know what the real gift was, but his words alone made me feel genuinely grateful.

My actual father didn’t even bother, so Lord Themanon’s kindness made me truly happy.

A secluded clearing.

Garen sat on a large rock, waiting for someone.

After some time, a human shape slowly emerged from the shadow he cast.

“Garen. I understand your request.”

The one who stepped out of the shadow was none other than the Princess of the Secret Palace—Arsagil.

A few months ago, Arsagil had received a letter from Garen.

[…I must attend Sayla’s coming-of-age ceremony.

…Therefore… if it’s within Your Highness’s power…

The only officially accepted excuse for missing it is a severe injury that prevents movement. If you help me, I will never forget the favor.]

“Why go this far just to attend Sayla’s coming-of-age ceremony?”

“Well, I am Sayla’s older brother.”

Garen had only one request.

[If you could break my leg without any lasting side effects, I’d be grateful.]

“The flower Sayla gave me that day was the best gift.”

“……”

“She was so cool, standing up for me like that.”

“……”

“For the first time, I understood what it meant to have someone on your side. What it feels like when someone stays with you when everyone else has left. How much strength that can give a person.”

“……”

“I just want to give back what I received from Sayla.”

“I see.”

Arsagil shrugged.

“That’s a commendable thought. Lie down. I’ll break it good and clean.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Oops, wrong words. I’ll break it painlessly.”

“Why do you look happy?”

“That’s your imagination. Now lie down.”

Her veiled eyes sparkled ominously.

‘I’m the real brother, you bastard! Not you—ME!’

I’ll break it in the most excruciating way possible.

The coming-of-age ceremony was held on the second floor of the temple.

Only those receiving the ceremony were allowed upstairs, and I was guided by a robed priest to one of the rooms.

Nearly twenty kids were already seated inside.

Two empty seats caught my eye.

“You may sit there, young lady.”

I gracefully walked over and sat in one of the empty chairs.

I felt gazes pierce me the moment I sat down.

‘Not exactly friendly eyes.’

Not surprising.

Even if Dvernon and Queibec were on good terms lately, it was still an exceptional case.

For thousands of years, the Northern and Eastern continents, represented by Dvernon and Queibec, had been in constant conflict, both big and small.

Most noble families were deeply tangled in long-standing feuds and grudges.

The North hated the East, and vice versa. Their relationship was one of mutual hostility.

‘Dvernon and Queibec are relatively better, but…’

As leaders of their respective fields, they respected each other.

But the lesser families beneath them often hated each other even more fiercely.

The vassals of Dvernon mocked swordsmanship more than Dvernon did, and the vassals of Queibec belittled magic more than Queibec itself.

I had expected hostility, but not this level of blatant disdain.

It felt like being a person of color dropped into a land ruled by extreme white supremacy.

“Please wait a moment. The ceremony will begin one by one in 30 minutes.”

After the door closed, a group approached me.

“You’re Sayla Dvernon?”

Four of them.

Three were unremarkable extras. But one, I recognized.

‘Firstborn of the Beruk family, Queibec’s top vassal—Galf.’

Of course, it had to be him.

Galf was a villain in That Woman, That Sword, driven by inferiority.

He admired Queibec, but when he wasn’t chosen, he turned dark.

“I’m Galf, first son of the Beruk family. Nice to meet you.”

He held out his hand.

Galf’s hands were huge for his age.

In the story, he was nicknamed “King Fist.”

Despite being a swordsman, he got that nickname due to countless violent incidents—a very dishonorable reason.

I took his hand.

‘Just as I thought.’

It was like the earlier power struggle between Garen and Jeremiel.

He was trying to crush my hand with brute force.

‘Ow!’

There was no way I could overpower him physically.

Using Winter Blade’s energy wasn’t a good idea either.

My hand felt like it would shatter, but thankfully, my composure training helped me endure it without showing pain.

“How long are you going to keep holding my hand?”

“……”

“Pretending a handshake is just a chance for skinship—how disgusting.”

Startled, Galf let go, and I lightly brushed his hand away and turned my head.

It was a silent message—I had no intention of associating with him.

I could feel the four of them, including Galf, seething, but I didn’t care.

‘How childish.’

They muttered loudly enough for me to hear.

Even while doing barrel rolls, their words were aimed right at me.

“I heard a rumor from the frontier—someone was born after devouring their mother and got dumped in the sewer.”

“Ugh, how cursed.”

Didn’t sting at all.

They’re just dumb kids gossiping.

“I heard the Palawul family’s second son was expelled because he couldn’t inherit the family sword.”

“Not being able to wield the family’s sword is horrifying. Of course he got kicked out.”

“He’s supposedly freeloading off another house now.”

Clearly targeting me—the supposed disgraced exile of Dvernon.

But I’m an adult. What some brats say doesn’t affect me. Seriously.

Really, really, truly doesn’t bother me.

“I heard this young lady I know is leeching off another house, living pitifully like a parasite.”

“If it were me, I’d be too ashamed to live like that.”

“They say even her father didn’t bother showing up to her coming-of-age ceremony.”

Pfft. No damage at all.

“Oh, and the only gift she got was a measly bouquet.”

“No way. Not even a steel sword? That’s just too humiliating.”

Really, totally not—okay, yeah, maybe just a little…

“How pathetic do you have to be to get treated like that? I don’t even feel sorry for her.”

Ugh. Okay, now I’m pissed.