A few days after the reincarnation, I thought a lot had happened.
I met the saint, sent Teresa away, and met Adele.
It was encouraging to meet Saint Adriana, whom I would never have met otherwise, but I also felt a little anxious about experiencing a future I was seeing for the first time.
However, the thought that everything might be okay came from the fact that countless memories were still left within me.
I can handle it.
Even if it’s something beyond imagination, I’ve experienced it beforehand.
The only reason I have regrets is that I’ve clung to my lingering attachments for far too long.
“Young Master, a letter has arrived.”
Now, Renold, who had become much more respectful, handed me a letter.
Thinking about it, it’s already been about two weeks since I returned to this summer at twenty years old.
A letter would come at a time like this.
As I took the letter with a puzzled mind, my eyes narrowed involuntarily when I saw the symbol engraved on it.
I had forgotten. That I had cast Teresa aside.
Did I really hold so little stake in Teresa?
How insignificant must it have been that I could forget it all in just a few days?
Because of such reasons, I couldn’t help but think that the last round was pathetic.
If I had given up everything and thought like I do now, I often imagined that I could have resolved everything in about ten reincarnations.
Of course, I know that such imaginings are meaningless now.
Clinging to a past that has already passed is a foolish thing to do.
However, the scars that were left back then still tormented my soul.
Though my body bore no scars, the traces of the tortures I endured once seemed to refuse to fade, no matter how much time passed.
Crunching—suddenly, the letter in my hand crumpled.
Cold sweat beaded on my forehead, and my vision blurred as dizziness began to wash over me.
Memories of the past came rushing in like a flood, breaking the dam and spilling over into my senses. Grabbing my chest as my breath hitched, I dropped the letter I was holding.
Whenever I thought deeply about the past, I often experienced such reactions.
They said it was the illness that soldiers returning from war encountered.
However, what I held was even more brutal than that.
The poison I drank, the arm that was severed, the leg that was broken all overlapped within me.
The eyes that had vanished without a trace sometimes lost their sight.
The vocal cords that were ruined from screaming occasionally forgot their voice, and very rarely, I would forget my name.
I saw my trembling hand.
Would it crumble to dust and scatter at any moment?
No, after all, there was one time when all my nails were pulled out. Just a minor torture.
That level of torture, I’ve endured enough to laugh it off now.
I had even cut off my own arm, and there were times when my arm fell off while wielding a sword.
My vision turned a deep red.
Colors like blue, green, and yellow had no place in this world as they swirled around me.
Countless memories tangled together, and as the sound of rain pierced my ears, I ground my teeth.
What I need to remember now is to calm my wildly beating heart, I desperately tried to move my lips.
My name, what was my name again?
“…Robert Taylor.”
As the consciousness gradually returned, I slowly wiped the sweat off my forehead. The breath I had been holding returned, and my shriveled lungs regained their elasticity.
For now, it was okay. I pressed on my temples and thought.
Just about bursting, I calmed the pulsating blood vessels in my head.
There was a bitter taste in my tightly closed mouth, but… it was okay.
Such things happened often. In fact, I had been waiting for this kind of reaction to come.
The specters of the past that tormented me.
I often wondered when they would let me go, but recently, their intensity had been weakening.
It was evident just from the fact that the frequency of my dreams had decreased.
I realized I no longer thought so seriously about the past.
In truth, I hadn’t lived diligently through every one of the 100 lives of the past.
Out of those, I had probably taken my own life 30% of the time.
There were those times when I was so convinced that this reincarnation would end if I just died a few more times that I stabbed my own neck three times that I can recall.
‘…pathetic.’
It’s no wonder I came across as a relic.
Life is endlessly repeated until my desired wish is fulfilled, against my will.
Now, wasn’t that wish to not desire eternal death?
After completely wiping away the sweat, I picked up the letter that had fallen on the floor.
[To the esteemed Lord Robert Taylor.]
“Esteemed.”
What a ridiculous word.
It was quite rare for her to attach the modifier “esteemed” to me.
Only if something urgent truly happened to her, or if she wanted something from me.
As I tore open the letter with a smirk, I found it filled with carefully written phrases.
[Lord Taylor, how have you been? I would normally like to call you by your name, but I know how upset you must be due to my previous blunder.]
At this point, I stopped reading the letter.
If I read any further, I might get so enraged that I’d feel sick.
If she truly knew how much she upset me, she wouldn’t have contacted me with such a petty letter.
So it couldn’t be that urgent after all. Truly an arrogant woman.
“Renold, burn this letter.”
With that, Renold, who had quietly entered through the door, approached and took the letter into his hands.
Under normal circumstances, I might even doubt if he would think of something else in this situation, but Renold was currently doing quite a commendable job as a loyal butler.
Based on my observation over the past two weeks… he was trustworthy.
It would suffice to say he was the only one in this ducal residence.
If I wielded the carrot and stick appropriately, he wouldn’t betray me.
It wasn’t that I completely ruled out the possibility, but I was sure that a betrayal by someone like Renold wouldn’t trouble me in the slightest.
“What is Father doing?”
“His Excellency the Duke mentioned he had business in the capital this morning.”
“It’s about that time. So, Yuria is the only one left here?”
“Yes, the Lady of the House remains here.”
It was probably for the upcoming full moon festival.
“Since it’s the Empire’s main festival, my father needed to head to the capital for the celebration that would unfold across the entire Empire.
I suspect the Ducal Residence will soon become quite noisy. Of course, amidst all that, I had to keep myself busy.
There was someone I needed to save, someone who had been my excellent supporter throughout almost every life.
For someone like me, who needed more information than what any decent information guild could provide, there probably wasn’t anyone better.
Alchemist Jay, saving him during this festival was the most important task at hand.
“How would you like your meal? Should I bring it to your room?”
“No, I’ll eat in the dining hall. I don’t need to eat in my room anymore.”
Before my reincarnation, I often had meals in my room, but since my return, I made it a point to go out to the dining hall for meals.
Though it was quite uncomfortable to have meals with either my father or Yuria, I figured they’d remember me if I showed my face like this.
If I had to name another reason, it was also because of the oddly contorted expression on Yuria’s face whenever she saw me.
Wasn’t her reaction strange since the last time?
It wasn’t as if she suddenly didn’t care about me, but perhaps she felt an unnecessary guilt.
It wasn’t even funny.
If what she did was merely to attract my attention…
At that point, I wouldn’t even be able to think of her as family.
While I was having such thoughts, Yuria happened to be walking this way from down the corridor.
Was she trying to grab a bite, or something? Looking at me, she flinched in surprise for a moment before quickly putting on a calm expression.
Then, she walked past me and stopped, calling me back.
“…Robert Taylor.”
“Why are you calling me? I haven’t done anything wrong, so do I need to apologize for something I’m not aware of?”
I retorted sarcastically, but the only reaction from Yuria was a slight chill in her gaze.
After staring at me for a moment, she parted her lips in a low voice.
“I’m not saying you should always apologize whenever I call you. Since when have I ever said that?”
“Then please tell me why you called, Lady of the House.”
At the mention of ‘Lady of the House,’ her eyes trembled just a little.
Such a reaction was amusing. Why would she react like that?
It was an emotion I couldn’t comprehend, so I simply stared at her in fascination.
She might find it strange that I had changed through reincarnation.
However, I couldn’t understand why she was shaken by my current response.
She was the one who used to dislike being called ‘sister’ when I addressed her that way.
So shouldn’t she be happy with what she wanted?
Yuria, who had kept her mouth shut for a moment, frowned as if annoyed and finally spoke.
“I was just going to ask if you’re attending the Full Moon Festival. If you’re going, I have to report it to Father. Don’t misunderstand and just answer me.”
“I will attend. I have things to do.”
“The things to do… Never mind, I’m busy, so I’ll be on my way. Do as you please, whether you eat or whatever.”
“What I have to do… No, never mind. I’m busy, so I’ll just be on my way. Do whatever you want, whether that’s eating or something else.”
Yuria, who was about to ask about that matter, turned her head alone and closed her mouth again.
And then, as if her business was over, she spouted out only what she had to say and vanished.
Clack, clack. As I watched Yuria disappearing down the hallway with a peculiar expression, I also turned my back.
‘She’s probably just acting out for a moment.’
It’s not the first time I’ve seen this kind of behavior.
She’s just being a little quirky for now. I soon erased Yuria from my mind and settled down in the dining hall.
While Renold had the attendants bring various foods, I recalled the letter I received from Teresa earlier.
There’s only one reason she would send me such a letter now.
It’s likely because she’s starting to feel her older brother’s illness.
But it shouldn’t be too serious right now.
It’s probably just a mild cold, a few coughs here and there that she sometimes catches.
Being cautious, she might have sent me a letter to apologize.
Gauging my reaction while subtly testing the waters regarding her older brother… likely just a measure of that sort.
Thus, I had no intention at all of responding to this meeting.
If she’s in a hurry, she’ll contact me again. What I planted in her mind is a seed named suspicion.
I won’t be doing anything, but her suspicion will slowly turn every situation into anxiety.
Initially, she’ll think it’s just a coincidence.
People tend to rely on luck when something negative happens.
However, once the situation shifts even slightly, they become obsessed with the possible cause.
‘Right now, that’s probably me.’
But what if I don’t respond?
If I just answer her with silence, how far will that suspicion spread?
I don’t think it would take long.
At most two weeks; I’ll be able to observe the whole process until the full moon festival begins.
“Your meal is ready.”
As I was about to move my knife, looking at the plate in front of me, Renold approached closely and whispered something in my ear.
“…Letters from the Violet household have arrived one after another. What will you do?”
“Burn them.”
“Aren’t you going to check them?”
“The contents are obvious. Make sure to burn them well so no one sees.”
“Understood.”
They arrived one after another. I chuckled at that remark.
I suspect something else must have shown up right after she sent me those letters.
However, my reaction doesn’t change.
If she keeps sending letters, all I’ll do is go through the trouble of burning each one.
Chop, the sensation of the knife slicing through the steak comes to me.
I pick up a tender piece with my fork, savoring the umami and sweetness of the sauce.
Soon, the seed she planted will grow larger and bloom.
That suspicion is going to devour her and soon swallow the Violet household whole.
But it’s not my fault. It’s entirely her mistake for starting with suspicion, her fault for potentially ruining everything with doubt.
Once again.
I have no plans to do anything.
Nothing at all.
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