Chapter 47: Same Bed, Different Dreams (2)
Chapter 47: Same Bed, Different Dreams (2)
Translation: Godtl
Serena's talent had been evident since childhood.
So much so that she gained admission to the prestigious Magic Engineering Academy affiliated with Albion Royal University, where admissions were determined solely by merit.
'Wow...!'
When Serena first arrived in the capital, her eyes sparkled with all the vibrant colors around her.
'It's so warm! The buildings are huge!'
Albion was beautiful and sophisticated.
Skyscrapers—so dazzling they made Nortaris seem like a backwater—stood like a folding screen across the cityscape, and the weather was endlessly sunny and warm.
'It's like a dream... That I could be in a place like this...'
The academy was beyond compare.
Wasn't it the premier institution that gathered and trained all the kingdom's elite?
Everything was as lavish and beautiful as its jaw-dropping tuition fees.
Its facilities and educational standards boasted the highest level of expertise on the continent.
'Whoa...'
The academy students were no exception.
Even in identical uniforms, they exuded an unmistakable aura.
A natural grace and dignity that Serena lacked.
'Will I... be able to get along with them?'
Though Serena had been nervous, fearing she'd be looked down on for her baronet-family origins...
Her worries proved unfounded.
They approached her first, speaking with surprising warmth.
"Oh my, you're the daughter of the Lenoir Workshop? The rumors about your genius-level talent in magitech are everywhere! It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lenoir."
"We're forming a study group, and we'd love your help, Lady Serena! Let's be good friends, shall we?"
"Y-yes! The pleasure is mine! If there's anything I can do to help, just ask...!"
After that, her time at the academy felt like a dream.
With her innate talent nurtured in such a positive academic environment, Serena's skills skyrocketed.
She might not have reached the very top, but she was soon regarded as a prodigy in her own right.
"Miss Lenoir, this assignment of yours is truly remarkable!"
"Serena, do you have time to look at this mana circuit design? I'm completely stuck, but I bet you could solve it in no time."
"Miss Serena, could you maybe...?" "Serena! Help me out!" "Miss Lenoir, would you mind working on this together...?"
Praise, recognition, admiration—it all poured in.
Serena was overjoyed by the attention and validation.
Her shoulders lifted with pride knowing that her skills were useful even to the scions of the capital's noble families.
She gladly carved out time, sometimes even pulling all-nighters.
She helped her "friends" with their assignments and solved difficult technical problems for them.
It was exhausting enough to make her nose bleed, but it felt worthwhile.
"You actually pulled this off? Thank you, Serena! You're the best!"
"Thanks to Miss Lenoir, I passed this assignment on the first try!"
"Thank you, Miss Serena!" "Thank you, Miss Lenoir!"
Because everyone acknowledged her.
Because, for the first time, she had so many friends.
"The capital really is different. Everyone here is so kind."
She truly believed that.
The fact that she couldn't find an opening to join in when her friends discussed high society gossip or the latest dress trends seemed like a trivial issue.
It wasn't until a semester had passed that Serena began to notice the subtle discomfort piling up like dust.
"Serena, you'll help me again this time, right?"
"Serena, where have you been? Here, this is my project."
Her friends now sought her out to make "requests" as if it were only natural.
But she didn't mind.
Because they were friends.
Because helping each other was what friends did.
"Miss Emily, do you have a moment?"
"Senior Rasta, I've been feeling a little overwhelmed lately..."
But when Serena herself reached out for help or tried to share her struggles...
"Oh, is that so? That's too bad... But what can I do? I'm a bit busy right now... Next time, definitely tell me about it!"
"Really? But about that project you promised to help me with..."
They were mysteriously busy, always had prior engagements, or skillfully changed the subject.
As if Serena were a nuisance.
'That can't be right.'
She denied it.
'It couldn't be...'
Weren't they all so kind and affectionate?
Weren't they the friends who had guided her when she struggled to adapt to life in the capital?
'They must genuinely be busy.'
She even began to feel selfish for failing to understand them.
Then, one day—
Perhaps it was because she had stayed up all night, as usual, and was utterly exhausted?
"Haaam, I'm so tired today... Kyah—!"
Serena missed a step on the stairs.
"Augh...!"
A spectacular fall.
The papers she had been clutching fluttered and scattered in the air, drawing everyone's attention.
The pain was one thing, but the sheer embarrassment was unbearable.
"Ugh, I'm sorry. I'll clean this up right away..."
Clutching her swollen ankle, her eyes brimming with tears, she scrambled to gather the scattered documents when she caught sight of someone passing by without a second glance.
It was Emily, who just yesterday had grabbed Serena's hands and exclaimed, "You're my most precious friend!"
Walking alongside another young lady, Emily glanced over her shoulder at Serena fumbling on the floor—then pretended not to see her, laughing airily as she continued her conversation before disappearing.
But that wasn't all.
"...And with that, I conclude my presentation."
Edmund, who had borrowed Serena's meticulously crafted magitech blueprint under the pretense of "reference," had cunningly plagiarized its core ideas and presented them under his own name.
Amid the applause, his eyes briefly met Serena's, and for a moment, he seemed flustered—
"Thank you! Thank you!"
But he only flashed a proud smile, basking in his stolen achievement, with no intention of explaining himself to her.
Only then did she realize.
Ah, this wasn't friendship.
To them, Serena was a dog.
A performing dog that would fetch whatever they threw, wagging its tail at their shiny praises.
A docile, useful mutt allowed to frolic in the garden—but the moment it tried to step inside, it was kicked out.
From the very beginning, the daughter of the Lenoir Baronet Family had only ever been worth that much.
"...That can't... be true..."
Humans don't believe in truth—they believe in what they want to believe.
Serena was no different.
Serena sought out Julian Beaumont.
Julian Beaumont.
The second son of the prestigious Beaumont Count Family, renowned for their long-standing expertise in technology.
He was the senior who had introduced her to the academy and Albion on her very first day.
And unlike the others, he was the only one who never asked anything of her.
She trusted that he, at least, would lend an ear to her troubles and offer wise counsel.
"Julian, you've been making time for the Lenoir girl a lot lately, haven't you?"
"Ah, you mean Serena?"
"Yeah, man. The rumors are already spreading. Why are you being so nice to her? Got a thing for her or something?"
Lingering near the third-year dormitory, Serena unintentionally overheard the conversation from behind the wall.
"A thing? Me? For some baronet's brat?"
"Then why... Oh! Ah, you bastard."
"Heh, doesn't she look naive at a glance? Those types fall for it quick if you play along. Just lead her on for a bit, then ditch her when you're bored."
"Quite the hobby for a noble young master... Though, I'll admit, she is cute."
Serena didn't get angry.
She didn't storm out to confront Julian, nor did she rage.
Instead, a cold realization seeped through her veins, freezing her heart solid.
It was terrifying.
The hospitality she had received, the sense of belonging in the academy, every moment she had believed was joy among friends—all of it was nothing but meticulously calculated pretense and deception.
And the ones who carried it out so effortlessly—these "true nobles."
After that, Serena graduated from the academy without incident—quietly, unremarkably, as if she had never been there at all.
After graduating from the academy, she had the right to immediately enroll in the Royal University, but instead of attending, she returned to Nortaris.
She had run away.
"How foolish..."
Serena sat on her favorite sofa and leaned her forehead against the glass window.
The night air was chilly for summer, cooling her heated head with its refreshing touch.
Even now, nothing had changed from back then.
After getting burned like that, she still foolishly clung to the hope of meaningless games of friendship.
"Ugh, life..."
—Gulp, gulp, gulp.
Serena chugged an unknown number of bottles of strong liquor, blowing into the bottle like a trumpet.
Even for Serena, who was a heavy drinker despite appearances, this amount was pushing her limits.
But what could she do?
If not for the blessing of alcohol tonight, she didn't think she could endure it.
Just then, Head Maid Masa came to deliver a message.
"Young Lady, someone from Y&P is here to see you."
"Pfft—huh? At this hour?"
"Yes, they're waiting in the drawing room right now."
"It's so late, can't we meet another time? I'm completely drunk right now..."
Masa looked troubled.
"They said it's an important matter and insisted on speaking with you personally."
"Sigh... Fine. I'll get ready."
Serena sluggishly changed her clothes.
After the success of Y&P Trading Company, Jurgen was no longer treated merely as "Lady Penelope's commoner business partner."
Though the visit was late at night, the servants of the Lenoir family courteously escorted Jurgen to the drawing room.
A short while later.
Serena entered the drawing room, looking somewhat exhausted and reeking of alcohol.
"J-Jurgen? Did you come alone?"
"There's a matter I wished to discuss with you, Miss Serena."
Her eyes widened in surprise upon seeing Jurgen alone.
"Lady Penelope told me. About the marriage proposal with Viscount Granville's family."
The moment the topic of marriage was brought up, Serena hugged her elbows tightly.
"..."
She had already been exposed by Penelope.
There was no point expecting anything from Jurgen now.
Forcing a smile, Serena tried to steer the conversation casually.
"Yes... well, it's a great opportunity for our family."
Serena, who had been bowing her head, flinched when she met Jurgen's piercing gaze.
Wasn't he staring a little too intently?
It was almost as if he was devouring her with his eyes.
Ah, was it because of that?
Jumping to conclusions, Serena waved her hands dismissively.
"D-Don't worry. I'd never leak Y&P's trade secrets."
"No, that's not why I'm here."
"Th-Then why?"
"I came to ask what you think about this marriage."
His voice was considerate and thoughtful, but...
It didn't matter. She had no expectations left.
Penelope or Jurgen—same bread, same jam.
Both were cold-blooded nobles.
Come to think of it, Jurgen had once saved her.
Had he come to collect his debt and send her off to marriage?
How cruel. How utterly cruel.
"I haven't forgotten how you saved me last time. I'll repay you somehow."
"Why do you keep deflecting? As I said earlier..."
Serena blurted out.
"...You're asking how I feel about this marriage? Of course I hate it."
"Why?"
"Why? You ask why?"
If you hate something, there must be a reason, no?"
"..."
Serena heard something inside her snap.
She had tried to hold back.
But she couldn't anymore.
She was already miserable enough, and now Jurgen, who wouldn't even help her, was prying into her feelings—he was even more detestable than Penelope.
"Uuuuuu...!"
And Serena, though usually timid, had a tendency to explode like a small cannonball when overwhelmed by emotions, crashing into anything in her path.
Moreover, the gunpowder propelling Serena's cannonball—alcohol—was fully loaded tonight.
"I don't know! I just hate it!"
Her pent-up fury burst out like popcorn.
"D-Do you think I chose to be born into a baronet family?! If I'd been born into a prestigious house, I'd be living comfortably without a care in the world!"
"No, Miss Serena, I didn't say anything—"
"Didn't say anything, my foot! You have no idea how people feel! Who in their right mind would be happy about marrying some stranger they've never even seen? Huh?"
"Miss Serena, calm down. First, take a deep breath—"
"Hoo, huuuuu..."
Following Jurgen's instruction, Serena took a deep breath—then immediately launched into another tirade.
In short, she began throwing an even more incoherent tantrum.
"I hate it, I hate everything... Especially nobles! I hate them more than spiders... Waaah...!!!"
Serena had now devolved into full-blown sobbing.
Clutching Jurgen's pant leg pitifully while tears like chicken droppings streamed down her face, she wailed:
"Waaahhh!! You should take responsibility, Jurgen! If you rescued me, you should take full responsibility!!!"
"Now, Miss Serena—my pants! My pants are slipping! What do you mean by responsibility?!"
"Why not! I'm pretty, aren't I?! I'll even turn a blind eye if you keep seeing Lady Penelope as your lover!"
"Lovers with Penelope? What nonsense is this now?!"
"I know everything! You're just pretending to be a commoner, Jurgen! You're from some amazing technical family! I don't want to go to the capital! I hate nobles!"
Serena had become so hysterical she was now crying uncontrollably, far beyond what anyone could have imagined.
She clung to him so desperately that when Jurgen tried stepping back, she was dragged along like a ragdoll.
"I'll propose to you! If you refuse, I'll tell everyone in town about your secrets! I'll really do it, you know?!"
"Good heavens, just how much have you had to drink?!"
"It's fine! They say drunken words are sober thoughts! I may be drunk but I mean it! I'm proposing right now! Jurgen! Marry me!!"
Between the reek of alcohol and her ears flushed crimson red, Jurgen hadn't anticipated things escalating this far.
Until now, the most troublesome person in Jurgen's life had been Lily Fontaine, the undersecretary.
But Serena had spectacularly claimed that title for herself.
"Answer me quickly...! Waaah! Waaaah!"
"Miss Serena, lower your voice!"
This was problematic.
If Serena kept this up, someone was bound to come running at the commotion.
Not to mention she was in such a state she might blurt out all his secrets without realizing...
And more importantly, having someone see her like this would surely leave unforgettable scars on Serena herself.
"My apologies, Miss Serena."
"Waaah! You rejected me! I warned you! If you refuse, I'll shout your true identity from the rooftops... Hic...!"
—Thwack!
Jurgen's hand chopped sharply against the nape of Serena's neck.
The girl, who'd been clinging to his ankle in a death grip, went limp like a puppet with its strings cut.
Had he struck too hard?
"Phew..."
Fortunately, when he checked her nose, he could still feel her exhales.
"Sigh..."
Jurgen heaved the unconscious Serena onto the parlor sofa, her face still a mess of tears and snot.
Gently, he dabbed her face clean with a handkerchief.
He could roughly piece together what had happened.
Serena was far more opposed to this marriage than even Penelope had speculated.
It seemed she'd been suffering in silence.
To endure this much dislike without a single complaint to her family...
For the first time, the girl he'd always seen as spoiled struck him as remarkably mature.
He felt a pang of sympathy—no, compassion.
After all, hadn't they spent considerable time together?
When he'd first fled the palace to plan his Gastronomic Revolution, he never imagined getting entangled with so many people.
His plan had been to forge ahead quietly, alone.
The bonds between people carry an inevitable weight—
Invisible yet heavy, sometimes too burdensome to ever put down.
But as always, connections form whether desired or not.
"I understand how you feel, Miss Serena."
"..."
Realistically, matching the level of support from Viscount Granville House was impossible.
But providing enough assistance for Serena to refuse the political marriage and live comfortably... that might just be achievable.
"Don't worry and wait patiently. I'll find a way to handle this."
Jurgen resolved to willingly undertake this effort for Serena's sake.
After all, no matter what anyone said, Serena was a proper technician of Y&P.