The Former Fiancée
My memories of my fiancée were far from pleasant.
From the start, being known as the trash young master's betrothed was never going to make for a happy relationship. Even after three years of transmigration and every effort I made to turn things around, this world still refused to believe I was no longer that good-for-nothing. The label of incompetence clung to me like a second skin. For the woman stuck with me as her fiancé, it must have been an endlessly humiliating situation.
If it had been a purely political engagement, she might have simply written it off as bad luck. But—
Believing in you… makes me feel like a fool, Revan.
She had clearly held real feelings for me. Or rather, for the original Revan. I learned that later. She and the previous Revan had been childhood friends, growing up side by side. She had never seen their bond as a mere betrothal; she had loved him. Then, as everyone knew, Revan became a trash young master. I gathered he hadn't always been that way, though the reason remained a mystery to me. Transmigrator or not, I had never read the original story of this world or anything like it, so plenty of things still sat in the dark.
Not that it mattered much now. The feelings she carried had never been for me. The Revan she loved no longer existed in this world. Even if he had, the engagement would still have ended the same way. Three years of struggle had failed to scrub away the trash reputation that created this mess. The original good-for-nothing himself would have met the exact same fate.
How ironic.
That damned god's command to find love floated back into my mind. Maybe even my regression to this point had been carefully calculated. But I had no intention of clinging to a relationship that had already drifted so far away.
I felt a flicker of curiosity about that cursed disease called love that made protagonists so desperate for each other they could barely stand it. Curiosity was all it was, though. I had no plans to live or move for its sake. Why on earth would I? This life would be lived strictly on my own terms. At most I would step in if something looked like it might become a real problem. Staying out of everyone's sight had become my motto.
Which meant the answer was already decided. I would accept this broken engagement cleanly.
In the previous loop, I remembered refusing the dissolution around this same time. Back then I had been weak in every way that mattered and desperately needed any ally I could get. Even a strained relationship with my fiancée might have given me useful support once we entered the academy. A little context: our family was a count's house counted among the empire's great noble lines. Count in name only—thanks to the emperor's favor we wielded influence equal to, or perhaps greater than, a duke's house. Her family stood on roughly the same level. With so little power of my own, I had no choice but to seek help. Of course our history made that help unlikely, but at the time I still believed I could somehow shed my reputation. Naturally the trash image proved almost immutable, everything fell apart, and the relationship crashed even harder. This life, however, gave me no reason to endure that suffering again. The answer had been fixed from the start.
"I intend to accept it."
"I see."
Father showed little reaction to the news that I would accept the broken engagement. It was a familiar response. He never interfered with my choices. Whatever I decided, he simply accepted it. At a glance it could look like indifference, yet I had come to recognize it as his own form of consideration.
Revan, survive.
His final words from the previous life overlapped with the present. My hands clenched for an instant before I forced them open again.
"That concludes the matter. You may go."
Father said nothing more, even though my reputation had inflicted considerable damage on the family. I looked at him for a moment, then quietly spoke.
"Father."
"What is it?"
"Thank you."
Even at that vague remark his expression did not change. He only gave a slight nod. I left the head's study thinking, I'll have to get used to this. Having regressed from a world that had already fallen, the moment I faced him the past flashed through my mind. I would need to grow accustomed to it eventually, but for now it still felt difficult.
When I returned to my room I found a small child lingering outside the door. A tiny girl with white hair, fidgeting restlessly. I knew exactly who she was—the youngest of our family, and a child with whom I shared a rather awkward relationship. Even after my transmigration, nothing had improved between us. At the time I had simply been too busy with everything else. On top of that, while Father and Mother had never treated me harshly, the household servants were far less warm. With my history as a trash young master, they never voiced open complaints, but they avoided me whenever possible and made sure Rihel rarely crossed my path. After all, she was the family's beloved youngest, adored by nearly everyone.
A reasonable judgment.
One of the original body's past deeds had been treating his little sister cruelly. After transmigrating I had been so occupied that I never pushed for closeness either, thinking it might be better that way. So relations with my blood relatives had never advanced. It might sound like an excuse, yet looking at her now, the youngest clearly still wanted to draw nearer to me.
Oppa… please be happy.
Even at her own end she had always worried about me. What kind of merit had the original body earned in a past life to make his little sister keep seeking him out no matter how much of a trash he became? No matter how hard I thought, I could not understand why anyone would treat such a sister unkindly. A little sister this cute—I felt I could spoil her all day long.
I approached Rihel. Only then did she notice my presence and startle.
"O-Oppa. Th-that's not— I wasn't trying to go into your room without permission…"
She grew even more flustered and began babbling. There was about a five-year gap between us. I carefully stroked the small girl's hair.
"Can I ask why you came?"
"W-well…"
Rihel fidgeted with her fingers and could not easily speak. I waited without rushing her. After several minutes she finally managed,
"I-I just… wanted to talk with Oppa… Is that okay?"
"Of course it is."
I answered with a small smile, and her face lit up.
"R-really?"
"Really. How about we talk over something delicious?"
"Something delicious…"
"Like a sweet cake?"
At those words her expression brightened dramatically, like a puppy wagging its tail. But only for a moment. Her face quickly clouded over again.
"Biella said I can't eat any…"
"Because of your health?"
As the family's youngest and most cherished child, Rihel's health was watched over with extreme strictness by the head maid.
"Don't worry. You can eat it."
"R-really?"
"Really."
I took her small, delicate hand.
"Shall we go, then? To get something tasty."
Rihel flinched in surprise for a second, then nodded vigorously. Watching her, I allowed a faint smile. Building relationships with my family in this life did not seem like a bad idea at all.
There were roughly two months left until academy enrollment. In that time I spent my days with Rihel. Perhaps because I finally had room to breathe, the days turned out more enjoyable than I expected. The servants' whispers and distrustful stares remained, yet they gradually faded, and my relationship with Rihel improved considerably. Enjoying leisure and free time I had never known before the regression, I even found myself thinking it was fun.
The only regret was that even this would not last much longer. I briefly considered skipping the academy entirely and simply remaining at the estate, but—
That won't work.
In the previous loop, countless incidents had erupted at the academy. A system window had appeared claiming nothing would be the same as before, yet I could not know for certain without seeing it myself. To prepare for any unforeseen variables, I had to go. Because of that, Rihel had grown rather gloomy. While I was still wondering how to cheer her up, unexpected news arrived.
"Someone has come to visit?"
"Lady Laviell has arrived."
None other than my former fiancée had come calling.