MEBD 03

Chapter 03 

The Marquisate of Wiltierra (2)

‘A thief?’

That was the first thought that crossed Berenice’s mind.

Could it be the same thief who had come to steal her brother’s sword before her regression—coming again now?

Should she catch them? Or… should she kill them?

She was still hesitating when—

“What are you doing?”

A familiar voice called out.

Berenice, who had been debating whether to smash the window and make a run for it, let out a weak groan and sank helplessly to the floor.

The tension drained from her all at once.

“What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?”

The one who rushed over, startled by her behavior, was her twin brother, Lowell.

With short navy-blue hair that brushed his shoulders and deep violet eyes, he knelt down on one knee and studied her pale face.

“Lowell… why are you here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. You look like some kind of ghost—dressed all in white from head to toe.”

“Be quiet. And why are you wandering around in black pajamas?”

“Because I want to.”

Before her regression, conversations with her twin brother had always gone like this.

And apparently, that hadn’t changed even now.

Even though she could see the worry in Lowell’s face as he helped her up with a grumble, she just couldn’t bring herself to speak kindly to him.

It seemed he felt the same.

After dusting her off and stepping back, Lowell folded his arms and spoke, his expression crooked.

“So what are you doing here? That’s Bledin’s sword, isn’t it? Why do you have it?”

For a moment, Berenice hesitated.

What excuse could she make?

Maybe it was because they were twins—Lowell always saw through her lies like a ghost.

Of course, Berenice was just as skilled at recognizing when he was lying.

Not only lies—they could read each other’s feelings without even trying.

If she lied poorly here, he’d know instantly that she was hiding something bigger.

“I just… wanted to see him.”

So, Berenice decided to hide a single lie among nine truths.

“I don’t know about the sword. When I came in, it was already lying on his bed.”

Her plan to secretly investigate the sword that she had hidden herself before—she abandoned it.

You had to let go of hopeless plans quickly.

That was a lesson she had learned the hard way while living as a fugitive before her regression.

If something was going to fail, you dropped it and moved on.

And standing before her now was Lowell.

Berenice would never admit it aloud, but her twin was a very intelligent man.

He had quick judgment and decisive action—qualities that made him a nightmare to deal with as an opponent.

If Lowell found out what she was trying to do…

‘…It’d be a mess.’

A huge mess.

And the same tragedy from before might happen all over again.

Berenice bit her lip, remembering the twin brother who had never returned home after setting out to clear their family’s name.

Her twin and her parents had to remain unaware—

At least until she uncovered the truth of this story herself.

That was the method Berenice had chosen in this life—to protect her family.

“It was lying there? On the bed?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s… brother’s—”

“Bledin’s sword. Yes.”

“Let me see it.”

“Here.”

She handed the sword to Lowell, who reached out as though he couldn’t quite believe her words.

She let him examine it carefully, then, once she felt enough time had passed, she suddenly snatched it back and hugged it tightly to her chest.

Lowell’s face twisted in annoyance.

“Hey!”

“I’m holding on to it.”

“That’s supposed to be for brother—!”

“I know! I’ll give it back to him, don’t worry! Just… I’ll hold it until we return to the estate.”

Lowell knew better than anyone how much his twin sister adored Bledin.

He gazed at her snow-white hair for a moment, then let out a long sigh.

When it came to stubbornness, no one could win against Berenice Wiltierra.

Of course, if she heard that, she’d insist he was the stubborn one—but still.

Whether it was the stubbornness or that pale hair, waking their parents in the middle of the night over another argument wasn’t an option.

So tonight, he’d let her win.

“…At least tell Father and Mother about it.”

“Okay.”

“And return it to brother when we go back to the estate.”

“I will.”

“And don’t handle it carelessly or damage it—”

“As if I would.”

“Haa… Fine. Let’s go. You shouldn’t be wandering around in someone else’s room like this.”

“…Okay.”

Lowell took one last look around Bledin’s room, his eyes full of longing, then turned away. Berenice followed quietly behind.

Even as they stepped out and gently closed the door, the twins kept their eyes down, silent—until, at the same moment, they lifted their heads and looked at each other.

“Want me to walk you back?”

“No.”

“Be careful. If your fever goes up again, you won’t be able to attend the funeral. You’ll miss your last chance to say goodbye.”

“I know.”

“You say that.”

Though they always bickered over trivial things, the twins—who had shared the same womb and the same birthday—could read each other’s thoughts just by meeting eyes.

“Go.”

“Mm.”

Have a peaceful night.

They exchanged the sentiment silently with their eyes and went their separate ways.

When Berenice returned to her own room, she sat on her bed, still clutching the sword she’d held so tightly all along.

Since Lowell had seen it, she had to hurry and uncover whatever secret was hidden in it.

“What could it be? What’s hidden inside?”

Was the sword itself the clue? Or was it the key to something else?

Her thoughts spun so fast that she could feel her fever returning.

‘No.’

If she relapsed now, she wouldn’t be able to attend Bledin’s second funeral, just like Lowell had warned.

She couldn’t lose this hard-won chance over something so small.

After a moment’s thought, Berenice climbed into bed, pulling the sword in with her.

No matter where she hid it, she wouldn’t feel safe—so she decided to sleep with it in her arms.

She could already imagine the horrified screams of Marienne or Nadia, her maids, when they came in to wake her in the morning—but as long as she could protect Bledin’s sword, she could handle a noisy morning.

“Kyaa! My lady! What is that?!”

The next morning, however, when Marienne’s shrill voice pierced the air, Berenice very briefly—very briefly—regretted her decision from the night before.

“…Be quiet.”

“Good heavens, my lady! Wh-where did you get something so frightening—?!”

“It’s Bledin’s sword.”

“Bringing such a ghastly thing into your bedroom… my lady!”

Berenice sat up, the sword still in her arms, and glared at Marienne, who was stammering and wringing her hands.

Just seeing that face—the woman who had betrayed her before her regression—made Berenice’s jaw tighten.

But…

‘Not yet.’

She couldn’t throw her out. Not until after Bledin’s funeral.

During a funeral, one must neither bring in something new nor throw out something old—

The people of the Egonid Empire believed that breaking that rule would prevent the dead from crossing the river to the afterlife peacefully.

Some called it superstition, but Berenice, who had once witnessed the power of the gods firsthand, couldn’t take it lightly.

‘I’ll deal with it right after the second funeral.’

Thankfully, for now, Marienne couldn’t do anything that would truly harm the Marquisate or Berenice.

‘She shouldn’t be closely connected to the Blaze Count’s family yet.’

Even if she was, it wouldn’t matter much.

Marienne might be her chief maid, but the information within her reach wasn’t worth much.

Unlike before her regression—when she’d fed Berenice’s secrets to the Blaze family in exchange for profit—right now she’d be lucky to make a few coins selling gossip about what Berenice had for lunch.

‘So it’s fine. For now.’

Thinking that, Berenice stepped out of bed and smiled faintly at Nadia, who had brought in a basin of water.

“Could you hold this for a moment?” she asked, handing her the sword.

“Eh? Y-yes, my lady.”

“M-my lady! A precious thing like that—let me—”

Marienne reached out belatedly, but Berenice ignored her and let Nadia keep the sword until her morning preparations were done.

Nadia—who had remained loyal to both Berenice and the family even until her death—was someone she could trust with it.

“Forgive my lateness.”

Dressed once more in black mourning clothes, Berenice entered the dining room, holding Bledin’s sword carefully in both hands.

At the head of the table sat her father, with her mother to his right and Lowell opposite them.

“Your fever?”

“It’s gone.”

Berenice sat down in the chair a servant pulled out for her and answered Lowell’s blunt question just as bluntly, lowering her gaze.

Even without looking up, she could feel her parents’ eyes on the sword in her lap.

“That’s Bledin’s sword.”

“Yes.”

As she placed it gently on her knees, her father spoke again.

“May I see it for a moment?”

At that instant, the Marquis extended his hand toward her.