~Chapter 22~

Touring the mansion with Larvihan was exhausting, but it was also fun. If he hadn’t insisted, Lovelace would never have explored the entire estate.

Partly because she was naturally lazy, and partly because the constant stares she felt everywhere she walked made her uncomfortable.

“People keep staring at me. Is it because I’m pretty?”

“When the owner walks by, it’s natural for them to watch in case you need something.”

Not even as a joke did he just say she was pretty.

Lovelace pouted, and Larvihan chuckled.

“You are pretty. But if those stares bother you, I can get rid of them.”

“…What? You promised you wouldn’t kill anyone.”

“Who said anything about killing? I can just take out their eyes.”

Larvihan smiled brightly.

Wow… how could he say something so horrific with such a refreshing smile?

A shiver ran down Lovelace’s arms.

“I’m ready, you know.”

She saw red light shimmer in his palm and quickly shook her head.

“No thanks. Turns out I like attention. A total attention-seeker. I’m happy—thrilled!”

“…What did you just say?”

“An attention addict. I love when people pay attention to me. It’s bliss!”

“I didn’t know. I thought you wanted to live quietly. Now that I know, I’ll shower you with even more attention.”

She had made a mistake. If only she could rewind time and swallow her words back.

Wait a second. This is inside a novel. Maybe rewinding was actually possible?

Her eyes sparkled as she turned to Larvihan. He tensed unconsciously.

Whenever she looked at him like that, something strange always followed.

“Larvihan.”

He nodded, ready to hear whatever she had to say.

“You’re a top-class magician, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“You can cast super difficult spells easily, right?”

“Rocks fall from the sky, the earth rises at my will—things like that are nothing. Have you suddenly fallen for my greatness?”

“No, not that.”

So blunt.

“But I just thought of something amazing.”

Larvihan folded his arms, telling her to continue.

“We wouldn’t need to share power, or touch, or any of that.”

With determination, Lovelace shouted:

“There’s a way to solve everything in one move!”

“What is it?”

“Turning back time! Isn’t that brilliant? Ha! Am I not a genius?”

Larvihan straightened up. His expression turned strange as he watched her bouncing with excitement.

“Sorry, but that’s impossible. If I could, I would’ve gone back to before my power was stolen.”

What? But in novels, it always worked! Characters went back four times, ten times, hundreds of times!

Her eyes filled with disappointment. From excitement, to sadness, to despair—her rapid changes made Larvihan smile faintly.

“What’s impossible is impossible. But more importantly, I’m very glad, Rey.”

There he went again, using that sweet charm of his.

Lovelace stepped back nervously, but he didn’t allow distance.

Her back nearly hit the hallway wall—until he placed his hand behind her to stop her.

“There’s a decoration behind you. You could’ve been hurt.”

Feigning concern, he drew her closer.

“I didn’t know you were worrying so much about returning my power. You should’ve told me. There’s no need to struggle when an easy way exists. I’m ready to take it back anytime. What do you say?”

Larvihan’s eyes flicked toward the bed visible through the half-open door. That mischievous glint—Lovelace’s face went scarlet.

“W-we’re not even married yet!”

“Ah, so turning back time is fine, but going to bed before marriage is not?”

She nodded fiercely. At this rate, she’d wake tomorrow morning with a stiff neck. But she couldn’t stop nodding.

Larvihan lightly grasped her head.

“Interesting. You’re both revolutionary and conservative. I suppose we’ll just have to marry first. In that case, I’ll go prepare for the wedding. Eat well, sleep well, and if you ever have trouble—just call me in your heart.”

“You’ll come?”

“Anytime you call.”

“But if it’s only in my head, can you hear me?”

“You and I are connected.”

His gaze dropped toward her chest. She hastily crossed her arms in front of herself.

“Pervert.”

“I only spoke the truth. Besides, my eyes were actually aimed lower.”

At her stomach—where she had devoured his power orb.

“Just leave already.”

She spun him around and shoved him toward the window.

“So, I guess you’re not afraid of me anymore.”

He asked as he placed one foot on the windowsill.

…Now that he mentioned it, he was right.

Sometimes his cold expressions still sent chills down her spine, but normal conversation like this felt almost natural.

Maybe… this was a good sign?

“Good night, Rey.”

Before she could respond, Larvihan leapt out the window.

By the time Lovelace snapped back to her senses, she shouted after him:

“Hey! This is the fourth floor!”

But her voice didn’t reach his ears.

Contrary to what others expected, Lovelace did not summon social guests—she called in her vassals. It was entirely her own decision.

“In every novel I read, whenever a lord disappears, the vassals always cause trouble.”

Lovelace had resolved to act as head of the house until she could pass the territory on to Paolo. And if she was going to do it, she wanted to hand down a proper household.

“No one will understand this feeling… like a mother wanting to pave a flower-strewn path for her beloved child.”

She gently stroked Paolo’s sleeping head. Like the child he was, he had quickly adjusted to his new life.

In front of Larvihan, he still pretended to be grown-up, but with Lovelace, he happily drank cocoa and sometimes even asked for chocolate fondue.

“Adorable.”

He reminded her so much of her real younger brother that her eyes grew misty. She quickly stood up. There were many people she needed to meet.

If she wanted to rebuild the County, the first thing was to set the vassals straight.

She hadn’t just been idling all this time—she had studied how to control them, practiced her expressions and manner so she wouldn’t appear weak. And who else but Larvihan had taught her? That meant it would surely be effective.

Now it was time to change genres.

From a survival story… to a territory management story.

The Lord’s Office

Wearing a dark navy dress, Lovelace sat in the high chair, facing the vassals before her: from the left, Viscount Nerk, Baron James, and Sub-baron Kunsak.

There were others who served House Harmelda, but she had called the most influential first.

“And they’re also the classic characters that always appear in novels.”

These vassals had divided the land among themselves after the family’s downfall. She would figure out how they managed such an impossible thing later—for now, the fact that they had done it proved just how cunning they were.

By law, when a family head suffered misfortune and their life or death was uncertain, vassals were supposed to wait two years for the lord or heir to return. These men had not waited.

Of course, they had their excuses. With the mansion gone and no one remembering the family, why should they remain loyal?

Anyone in their place might have done the same. They never expected Lovelace and Paolo to return alive—or Arwen to restore the family.

“How have you been, my lords?”

She greeted them brightly.

“Yes. Thanks to your concern, we have been well. And it seems you have been safe also, young lady.”

Viscount Nerk, his head completely bald, gave a broad smile.

“Clueless fool.”

Judith clicked her tongue quietly. Did he really not understand why they were summoned here?

Sure enough, the cheerful smile vanished from Lovelace’s face, replaced with coldness.

“Was it a mistake that I addressed you with respect for old times’ sake? Or have your brains grown so greasy that you no longer know your place?”

The sharp words made the vassals scowl in displeasure.

“My lady, such harsh words…”

“Viscount Nerk, I am no longer your lady. Do you not understand what it means that I sit in this chair?”

It was the lord’s seat.

Realization flickered in Nerk’s eyes. Finally, he understood that this meeting was not a friendly greeting.

“Forgive us, my lord. We were rude.”

At least one of them could think.

Lovelace turned to Baron James, who stepped forward.

“Please forgive our rudeness. But you must also remember this—we have devoted a hundred years to House Harmelda. Even when the head met with misfortune, we worked tirelessly to protect the land and its people.”

How laughable. With all their “tireless effort,” half the common folk had been thrown onto the streets. If they worked any harder, the rest would’ve starved to death.

“Fine. Then tell me exactly what this effort was.”

The vassals fell silent, glancing at each other.

“If you cannot speak, then I will. Judith.”

At her signal, Judith handed over a thick envelope. Lovelace pulled out the documents inside.