I dusted off my hands and looked at the maids.
“Tell the butler to fix this.”
“Y-Yes! Right away!”
A few maids scurried off, and I made my way to my room.
The reason my mother pitied Meldor was simple—because he, instead of me, was born a boy and became the heir of the family.
He had inherited my mother’s and father’s looks—a boy with black hair and blue eyes, my younger brother.
In the original story, he was a classic tsundere second brother—hot-tempered but secretly soft-hearted. At first, he didn’t acknowledge Nesia as his sibling, but he would always subtly look out for her.
This Meldor had more talent in magic than swordsmanship, and that was precisely why our mother felt sorry for him.
“Because the Alton Duchy is a sword-revering house tasked with guarding the northern part of the empire.”
The current Duke—my father, Theodore Alton—was a once-in-a-century swordsmanship genius.
In the original story, the eldest son who resembled our father not just in looks but also in sword skills naturally became the heir. There were no issues.
But now, that eldest son is me.
Because of that, Meldor, as the next male child, became the heir, and he was forced to train with a sword, even though his real talent lay in magic.
The pressure of being the heir.
The mismatch with his aptitude.
These two burdens were a heavy load for young Meldor. My mother always pitied him, always treating him as her precious, hurting child.
My stoic father also showed regret when he looked at his younger son. And all the retainers of House Alton directed their attention toward Meldor alone.
And me, caught in the middle.
I was always the outsider—neglected, forgotten, shadowed in the family. It was only natural that I spent my childhood walking on eggshells, much like my previous life.
Even when Meldor took out his frustrations on me for “living too comfortably,” I couldn’t say anything back.
Since the entire family was always on Meldor’s side, I gave up on receiving any attention. I silenced my personality and lived as though I didn’t exist.
Two things changed when I possessed this body: my gender and sense of self.
But I retained the swordsmanship talent and physical ability of the original eldest son.
In the past, I saw this talent as a burden. Meldor suffered so much under the weight of the family’s expectations, how could I selfishly stand out?
So I stayed away from the sword and lived strictly as the daughter my parents wanted.
Back then, I complied without really understanding—but now? It feels damn unfair.
Why did I ever feel guilty toward Meldor?
Why did I cling so desperately to the rare crumbs of my parents’ praise?
Besides, in the original story, Meldor idolized his older brother. He admired him even more than his own father. So why does he treat me like crap?
Is it because I’m a woman? Because I’m not the heir?
Whatever the reason, now that my memories have returned, I won’t just sit back and take it. First things first, I need to correct how he talks to me.
Even in the past, it annoyed me that he referred to me as “Hey, you.” But now? It was infuriating.
The real problem is my father…
Though my mother had passed, my father was still alive.
He was Meldor’s biggest support. With that confidence behind him, Meldor acted like he owned the estate.
I already lost everything I should’ve had. There’s no way I’m going to watch Meldor walk all over me too.
“To do that… I need to remove Father first. Remove him.”
The two maids who were opening the door flinched at my muttering, but I brushed past them and entered my room.
What should I do next?
The best method I had was to make full use of the original story’s plot.
I sat at my desk and began to organize the upcoming events, laying out a plan on paper.
To remove my father from this estate…
I separated usable information from useless ones and drew up the most efficient strategy, like sketching bold lines onto a blank canvas.
How much time had passed?
By the time I finished the plan and snapped out of my focus, the night had passed and a new day had dawned.
The early light spilled through the window. I slowly opened and closed my eyes in its glow.
First, I need to win that person over.
And the timing couldn’t be better. In just a few days, there would be a hunting tournament hosted by the emperor.
He would definitely be there.
I have to attend that tournament.
He would be the first stepping stone in my rise.
A smirk tugged at my lips as I anticipated what was to come.
In the original story, there was someone who pledged absolute loyalty to the eldest child.
His name was Zeppelin Vincend—the first-born’s most trusted knight. Outwardly, he was just a side character who doted on Nesia.
But behind the scenes, he was intricately tied to the Alton Duchy.
He was the head of a secret organization that served as the duke’s eyes and ears.
They were called the Watchers—responsible for gathering information, monitoring servants, exposing traitors, and carrying out covert operations. Zeppelin, as one of the Watchers, was the de facto leader.
This crucial detail only gets revealed in the latter half of the novel.
If I hadn’t recovered my memories, I wouldn’t have paid any attention to him. That’s how skilled he was at hiding his true identity.
But I wasn’t too worried. I knew exactly why he served the firstborn so faithfully.
He was obsessed with talent.
Zeppelin also trained new Watchers, so he was always on the lookout for promising individuals.
And he didn’t just “notice” them—he coveted them.
Normally, only the duke himself was allowed to know of and command the Watchers. But Zeppelin couldn’t resist the firstborn’s raw talent.
More precisely, he wanted to raise him personally.
He couldn’t even wait until the eldest came of age and begged the duke to let him serve at his side.
And since the duke trusted his firstborn heir deeply, he allowed it without much resistance.
But now?
I’m not a son, nor am I the heir. I have no connection to Zeppelin.
Worse yet…
I never received a proper education.
I recalled what happened four years ago. I was twelve, and Meldor was eight. At the time, we were both receiving heir training.
I only got to join those classes because Father thought it would be useful for a duchess to be well-educated.
But all it took was one complaint from Meldor, and I was kicked out of the lessons.
“It’s hard to concentrate with someone else in the room.”
Just like that, I was excluded. I was so furious that day I nearly lost it.
For the first time in my life, I rebelled against my parents.
“It’s not fair if only Meldor gets to learn! I’ll stay quiet and out of the way, just please let me attend!”
My father hesitated—but it was my mother who stepped in.
“Meldor’s still young and easily distracted. We need to create the best environment for him to focus. Bella, you’re his older sister—you can give a little, right?”
She stroked my hair and whispered sweetly.
“I’ll make a special class just for you later. Okay? Help me out, darling.”
And so, I had no choice but to give up the lessons.
Meldor monopolized the education from then on.
And he still had the nerve to mock me later for always goofing off and not studying.
Oh, and that “special class” my mother promised? Never happened.
After Meldor started sword training, he became even more demanding—and I was completely forgotten.
Ugh, the more I remember, the more suffocated I feel.
In the end, I had to self-study everything. I remembered struggling through theory books alone—and let’s be honest, there were limits to what I could teach myself.
I must recruit Zeppelin to my side.
If I do, I can absorb his knowledge, his combat prowess, and gain access to the Watchers he oversees.
Sounds like a perfect match, doesn’t it?
He loves to teach, and I desperately need to learn.
With that thought, I quickened my steps toward the estate’s shooting range.
Bang—!
Even before I entered, I could hear gunfire from inside.
As I approached, I saw a few attendants standing outside. I recognized some of them.
As expected, he’s here.
I gestured to the maids following me to stop.
“You all wait here.”
“Yes, Lady Belladi.”
I stepped into the shooting range alone. This was where the estate’s shotguns were stored, so it was protected by advanced security magic.
Another shot rang out.
Bang—!
“Damn it!”
Followed by a young voice. The speaker was Meldor, standing in an awkward shooting stance.
He angrily threw the gun down.
“This thing’s defective! Why can’t I hit anything?!”
“Tsk, Meldor.”
I picked up the gun and inspected it. Fortunately, the barrel wasn’t damaged.
There was no danger of accidental fire—imperial guns were protected with the most advanced safety magic.
This empire’s hunting culture is so developed, their guns are safer than modern ones.
I brushed a finger along the small amethyst embedded in the barrel.
“You shouldn’t treat the family’s valuable property so roughly.”
Meldor’s voice rose sharply at my appearance.
“What the hell are you doing here?!”
Ignoring him, I walked over and looked at the target boards.
Holes were scattered everywhere.
Not a single shot landed properly.
“W-What are you looking at?!”
Flustered by my gaze, his face turned red. I raised the gun, steadied my posture, and aimed.
Bang—!
Despite the recoil, my stance was steady.
The bullet pierced the center of the target cleanly.
I smiled.
“Good. It’s not defective after all.”
Meldor’s face turned even redder in humiliation.
