After my birth mother—or as Douglas put it, "that whore"—passed away.
I was locked in an annex with only a desk and no chair.
Think of it as roughly similar to my current room.
A small cabin in a corner of the estate that no one used.
I relied only on the halting words Iris would occasionally offer from outside the locked door.
Giselle never even heard the news of the death.
I told her myself later.
Even on nights when everyone in the manor was asleep, the door to the annex remained locked.
I even thought I might be forgotten like this and die alone in misery.
All I heard was the sinister cawing of crows and the sound of leaves rolling around.
Even if "I" felt no blood ties to my mother, Ain's body did not.
The image of my mother collapsing while coughing up blood replayed over and over in the darkness.
And Douglas clicking his tongue as if filth had touched him when Mother's blood splattered on his shirt.
For the first time since coming to this world, I felt bone-deep loneliness.
"Ugh. Disgusting. This place suits you perfectly."
A vulgar mockery layered over a cheerful voice came from behind the door.
"Bugs stick to you with every step you take.
Ew, you should at least have a servant clean it up."
Thirteen-year-old Roxanne was just a smaller Douglas with a limited vocabulary, or the Countess.
Only toward me, of course.
She acted extremely polite and clever around others, so she was well-loved.
"Don't tell me you're crying over something like that?
Being a man, there's nothing wrong with what Father said.
One prostitute dies and you're showing tears—what use will that be later?"
"...Ro, Roxanne."
"Don't say my name. It's disgusting."
Back then, living as Ain, my language was appropriately gentle for my age.
Maybe it was Giselle's influence.
I spent all day with a girl who spoke like a character from a novel every time she opened her mouth.
"Your real parents are sleeping soundly in the manor's bedchamber right now.
Act befitting the family name. Then who knows?
Maybe they'll let you live quietly, serving them without being kicked out."
"Fucking bitch, look at that foul mouth just like your parents...."
"...What did you just say?"
Even gentle me couldn't stand it. I remember now.
Not during the first regression, but this time, I cursed out loud for the first time.
That little shit should've known when to stop.
Normally I would've laughed it off like Ain would.
But on the most depressing day, she poured oil, lit the fire, and fanned the flames.
"Leave, Roxanne. I don't want to see you any more than you want to see me."
"Did you just curse at me?"
"You must have misheard. Maybe you got hit too much during sparring."
"...I'm telling Father.
You didn't just insult me, you insulted our parents too.
I'll never forget this humiliation, so just wait."
"Your voice is trembling—are you crying like a girl just because someone cursed at you?
Sorry, you are a girl.
A weak, stupid girl who staggers with every swing of her sword."
I said that, but.
From that point on, Roxanne's talent was incomparably superior to mine.
It was just that Roxanne's body hadn't finished puberty yet and wasn't fully developed.
And my practice hours were dozens of times more, so I never lost when we sparred.
But how could a kid's brain understand that?
Roxanne would get indignant every time and shout childish things like:
"If we used real swords instead of wooden ones, I'd win."
"Don't get cocky just because you know some swordsmanship."
"You're just an illegitimate child who won't even get a title anyway."
Looking back, they were juvenile words she'd yell to barely swallow her anger.
*Thud*
The annex door I was leaning against shook hard and I bumped my head.
Roxanne must have kicked it.
"So you did curse! You admit you cursed at me!"
"Let's say I did. Stop bothering me and go to sleep.
Who knows? If you sleep early, maybe that peanut-sized height of yours will grow a bit more."
*Thud*
The door shook once more.
Soon I heard Roxanne's footsteps fading away.
Looking at it now, I was childish too.
Responding the same way just because a girl younger than me provoked me a little.
The important thing is, in the end, I didn't see Roxanne cry that day either.
The trembling voice was also a lie I made up to tease her.
Not just that day, but even after losing dozens more sparring matches.
Even when Father lectured her to conduct herself properly.
Even when Iris, in Mother's place, raised the rod with a stern attitude.
Not once did tears flow from Roxanne's face.
.
.
.
So, back to the present.
"Sorry. I thought it stopped. It keeps flowing. Why is this happening."
Who is this annoyingly crying in front of me?
Even after entering Roxanne's room, sitting in a chair and smoking a cigar while waiting.
There was no sign of her tears stopping.
"Ah, I'll get you some tea. Just wait a moment."
"How about you stop and sit down so we can get to the point.
I have zero fucking interest in enjoying refreshments with you."
I said I'd talk because I was flustered.
But sympathy never arose.
Even if Douglas got dementia, he wouldn't fall apart this badly.
Maybe another war broke out somewhere I don't know about.
Looking at those dark circles, this hasn't been just a day or two either.
"Mm-hmm. I will. You've gotten quite foul-mouthed...."
"Are your ears fucked? Testing how much I can tolerate?"
"Sorry.... I haven't talked to people lately. It's awkward...."
"...You haven't talked to people?"
Fuck, I asked without thinking.
But this girl was surrounded by friends.
The curiosity I tried to suppress rises again.
The old Roxanne had good social skills.
Unlike Ain who only knew Giselle, and Iris who kept everyone at arm's length.
She even debuted in high society earlier than her age.
"Y-yeah.... I've kept my distance from people since enlisting."
Roxanne said, brightening at the question.
"Aren't you an officer? You should have plenty of free time."
"Father got me in, it's not a position I earned with my own ability...."
"Looking at you again, that uniform suits you well. Stand at attention.
It's perfect for you—full of incompetent bastards who only look decent on the outside."
Hearing my words, Roxanne started tearing up again.
But she soon slapped both her cheeks with a smacking sound and swallowed her tears.
She opened her mouth with a still-trembling voice.
"I, I heard Unnie is taking a leave from the Academy.
Does it have anything to do with you coming to the manor?"
"Yeah. She says she's busy nursing me."
"Nursing...? Are you sick somewhere?"
"Doesn't seem like something you need to worry about."
Roxanne's gloved hand clenched.
But she wasn't angry—it was an expression of being hit where it hurt.
"...Right, sorry. You and Unnie were close."
"Apologizing at the end of every sentence.
Did Douglas stop doting on you lately so you're sulking?"
"Dougl...? Oh, you mean Father. Mm-hmm....
It's been quite a while since I visited him."
This is strange in more ways than one.
They used to be like a picture-perfect father and daughter.
"No matter how big the manor is.
Unless you're deliberately avoiding him, you wouldn't not run into each other."
"Deliberately... avoiding is right.... It's a bit hard to see him...."
Roxanne lowered her head as if embarrassed.
I let out a scoffing laugh.
"Look at this. The girl who couldn't live a day without Daddy.
Must be a late rebellious phase."
"It's not like that.... It's hard to explain...."
Even hearing her precious father insulted, her reaction is disappointingly weak.
"Is asking about Iris all you wanted?"
"Huh? Yeah. That's... right. Yeah."
"I'm leaving. Go to a hospital before it's too late. You've become a complete moron."
As I tried to leave, Roxanne stood up first as if to stop me.
She looked me over quickly, then started changing the subject.
"Ah, a cigar. You smoke?"
"My eyes are the ones that got hurt. You've been holding it since earlier."
"Oh, yeah. So, when did you start smoking?
I knew you didn't smoke before."
The current Roxanne is, how should I put it.
She looks starved for conversation.
"I learned after joining the military too. Look, it's the same."
Roxanne said that and pulled out a silver cigar case from her pocket.
She opened it and even showed me that one was missing.
"...Are you really okay? What's wrong with you."
"Huh? Seeing a fellow smoker.... I'm glad...?"
"Uh, ah, um, sorry, can't you talk without this bullshit.
The stuttering—having even one in the family is fucking frustrating enough."
I stubbed the cigar I was holding against the wall, which resembled the room owner's hair color.
Roxanne's tears started flowing before the ash fell from the cigar.
"I know without the cursing.... Sorry for being frustrating...."
"This is maddening. Roxanne, we weren't close.
Far from close, I remember you tormenting me like catching a mouse."
Roxanne didn't answer, just twisted her mouth trying to hold back tears.
A pitiful crying sound leaked from Roxanne's lips.
"Keep squeezing out those tears then.
How did you become even more fucked up than before."
Since waiting wouldn't get me anything more, I left Roxanne and went out to the hallway.
It was hard to watch that face, which had always been annoyingly confident, now completely crumpled.
It was distinctly different from what I felt when Iris or Mace cried.
It was unpleasant, like watching a tortured prisoner.
"In the end, I just sat around listening to bullshit all day."
If only Giselle hadn't come.
I could have just finished the day reminiscing about trivial memories with Iris.
For no reason, I wandered around saying I'd take a walk and got tangled up with all sorts of idiots.
Going home pretending I had no choice is also out of the question now.
According to Roxanne, she doesn't even talk to the family.
So there's no chance of others hearing that I'm staying at the manor.
I didn't want to go to that lily-scented room yet, so I just continued on my way.
I passed through the narrow passage used by servants and turned onto the path leading to the garden.
Even breathing the outside air didn't diminish my displeasure.
I walked for a while, trampling flowers trapped in fences as I crossed the garden.
In one spot of the pitch-black garden without light, I spotted a yellow glow flickering.
It was Iris, holding a lantern and frantically looking around.
That dopey face was the most welcome thing I'd seen all day.