Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: The Bastard's Little Sister
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Among the girl's family was a boy just a year older.
The girl was young and knew little, but she knew what to call that boy.
"Oppa. Rishir oppa. I played with Rishir oppa today."
The mother, who had the girl on her lap, was startled and met her eyes.
"No? Roera. That child isn't your brother."
"He's not oppa? Why?"
"That child is... different from us."
"Different? Why? Isn't Rishir... oppa part of our family?"
"Rishir is..."
The mother trailed off and lowered her head.
A heavy soliloquy escaped her lips.
That thing is our family?
The child of another woman, no less—
It was the dark side she didn't want to show her beloved daughter.
"Mom? Are you crying? Don't cry. I did something wrong."
At her daughter's choked voice, the mother hurriedly lifted her head and forced a smile.
"Wang!"
Her stomach still churned, but she showed only the face she wanted her giggling daughter to see.
"Rishir is—"
A bastard.
It was a word too difficult for a young child to understand, whether by dictionary definition or the weight it carried.
"Rishir is actually a much naughtier boy than you think, Roera."
"Is Rishir oppa naughty? No way~ He treats me so well. He even made this for me."
The girl beamed and pulled something from her bosom: a ring woven from grass.
It was so crudely made that anyone could tell it was the work of a child's hands, but the girl slipped it on her finger and beamed with happiness.
"Pretty, right?"
"..."
The mother's smile was fragile as she gently stroked her daughter's ring-adorned finger.
"Yes. Very pretty. My Roera. Mom wants to try it on too."
The girl's face fell as if she'd made a grave mistake, and she hid her hand.
"Uh, if Mom wears it... um... uh... ah, no, I don't think so...? Rishir oppa gave it to me...?"
Finally, a pure, untroubled smile curved the mother's lips.
Adoring her daughter endlessly, she stroked her hair.
Then, as if struck by a thought, she removed the necklace from her own neck and placed it around her daughter's.
"Wow... sparkly..."
Even to a child's eyes, the necklace was far more dazzling than the ring.
No—to a child's eyes, it was all the more so.
"Then how about this? This is Mom's treasure. Let's trade."
"...Okay!"
The mother clutched the grass ring her daughter handed over. So tightly it nearly crumbled.
"Roera. Make a promise with Mom? No more playing with Rishir."
"Why?"
"Just... I'd like that. It's Mom's request. Can't you?"
"..."
The girl looked at her finger.
Only the faint scent of grass lingered there.
"Yeah. Okay. Because Mom asked."
"Lady Roera!!!"
"Really now—it's etiquette lesson time, where did you go...!"
"No. She vanished because it's etiquette lesson time. So we have to find the lady."
"...!"
What is a rascal?
It's the synonym for Bendel Roera.
Even those who didn't know the precise definition thought of those three letters first upon seeing eleven-year-old Roera.
The etiquette a noble lady must master.
Roera despised it.
That could be excused.
The Bendel Family revered the martial arts.
As long as she wielded the sword well, a slight lack of ladylike grace wouldn't be an issue.
The problem was that Roera despised even the basic etiquette any noble should know.
"Hey, Rishir~"
Today too, Roera had sneaked out of etiquette class and come here.
Rishir's room in the Bendel Family main residence.
The boy sat at his desk, immersed in his studies.
Her mother had told her to keep her distance from Rishir, but she didn't want to.
Rishir was Roera's best friend.
His desk was piled high with books.
They were the etiquette books Roera had abandoned.
"Blech~"
Roera pretended to vomit at the mountain of books.
A lady's dignity that was the etiquette teachers' nightmare.
"Rishir~ Forget this stuff for later and come play with me~"
Roera swung the wooden stick in her hand.
Villains, begone. Thwack thwack. Argh.
The wicked etiquette books rolled across the floor.
The boy sighed and picked up the books again.
He dusted them off, smoothed the crumpled pages carefully, and laid them back on the desk.
"I'm busy right now."
"I'm busy too but I made time~ So you make time too, Rishir~"
"Call me oppa."
"No thanks? Hehe. The adults said you're a bastard. I don't know what that means, but they said that's why I'm stronger than you? So I'm basically the big sister. Ahem!"
"..."
Silence.
And the sound of a pencil scratching.
The boy ignored his little sister with all his might.
Tch.
Roera pouted and flopped onto the corner bed.
She rolled around, swung the stick whoosh whoosh—
The bed was too small a world to contain Lady Roera.
She quickly grew bored, got up, and flopped face-down.
Creeping stealthily up behind oppa.
"Gotcha!"
Roera's stick knocked the books down once more.
Giggle giggle.
The little sister, thrilled, awaited her big brother's reaction.
Thud! That's when her body was roughly shoved back.
Rishir had jumped up from his seat and pushed her.
"Oho, you wanna go!?"
Just as Roera's eyes sparkled with vengeful intent—
"Hey. Get out."
Rishir glared at Roera.
Serious eyes devoid of any playfulness.
"..."
Roera gauged his mood and hid her invincible holy sword twig behind her back.
She sidled closer and nudged his shoulder with hers.
"Wh-what. It's just playing~ Don't be mad~ Did something bad happen?"
"You. Isn't it time for your etiquette lessons right now?"
"I ran away to play with you~ Three of them. I ditched three adults? Hehe. You should've seen how cool I was, Rishir."
Rishir's eyes remained coldly impassive as he watched Roera boast proudly of her exploits.
"Hey, Roera."
"Yeah? Wanna hear more? Wanna hear?"
"What's so fun about that?"
"Huh?"
"They're etiquette teachers the family head invited just for you. And you're so excited? You're smearing mud on the family head's face right now."
"Why use such fancy words all of a sudden~ Dad won't get mad over something like this."
Thud!
It was sudden.
Rishir shoved Roera with all his might. Almost like a punch.
"Ow!"
Roera clutched her struck arm and eyed Rishir warily.
Even a rascal knew when playtime was over.
"Wh-what... why'd you hit me, hng..."
Even as Roera teared up, Rishir didn't flinch.
Why was he so mad?
There was one thing she could guess.
"S-sorry, Rishir oppa... for talking casually... I was wrong, so don't be mad..."
Rishir tried to keep glaring at Roera to the end.
As threateningly as possible. To ensure she'd never mess with him again. To drill in their hierarchy thoroughly.
Who was superior. Who was the better person.
But children's tears are contagious.
Hic. Hic.
As Rishir started sniffling too, he said,
"Why... why do they like someone like you more..."
"Oppa...?"
"I obey better, I study harder, and if they taught me swordsmanship, I'd learn even better. Why do they only like you!!!"
"Oppa..."
"Outta here!!!"
Rishir shoved the approaching little sister away.
"Who wants to be born a bastard!?"
"S-sorry... I won't tease you anymore... I didn't know bastard was such a bad word..."
"Sorry for what!!! What do you even know! Get out! Get out!!! I don't wanna see your face!"
Rishir hurled whatever he could grab.
"Ow!"
A book's corner hit Roera's forehead perfectly.
A red line appeared on the rascal lady's smooth brow.
Drip. Drip. Blood trickled down her face.
"...!"
Rishir's face paled.
"A-are you okay, Roera?"
"Waaah!!! I hate oppa!!!"
Roera ran crying from the room.
"We found the lady!"
"Found her and what! Where's the lady's face!?"
"What happened!!!"
The servants discovered Roera weeping with blood on her forehead, and the mansion erupted in chaos.
A short while later.
Rishir was summoned for the first time in ages to his father's study.
His mother wept, cradling Roera with a bandage on her forehead.
Before her, the Bendel family head pronounced judgment on Rishir.
"From today, you'll live in the annex, Rishir."
"...Yes, family head."
The bastard was relegated to the annex where the Bendel mansion servants lodged.
One day.
Roera came to Rishir's room with a letter.
"Oppa... sorry... are you okay...?"
"..."
"Here..."
Rishir tore up the letter Roera cautiously offered.
"Didn't you hear the family head? You can't play with bastards like me anymore."
"..."
Roera left the room in tears.
After that, the bastard and the lady were never seen together again.
The rascal girl grew up into a lady.
A lady whose hair tied back messily and sharp, cynical smile suited her well.
Lady Roera Bendel.
She stood at a slight distance, arms crossed, glaring at Rishir.
At Rishir, swinging his sword in a trance.
His body was drenched in sweat.
His sword grip was caked in blood and pus from blistered hands.
One hundred ninety-four.
One hundred ninety-five.
Each swing was accompanied by a hoarse voice, parched and cracked from pauses.
About a month ago.
Rishir had taken up residence in the training ground behind the annex of the Bendel mansion and begun his regimen.
Start: same as those training in the main residence's grounds.
End: later than those in the main residence's grounds.
It was excessive training that perfectly fit the phrase "overdoing it."
Yet Rishir was unsatisfied.
Day by day, he extended the duration and intensified the rigor.
And so, to today.
Anyone visiting the annex training ground would see Rishir as if rooted there.
Spending every waking hour training, minimizing even sleep and rest from exhaustion.
The Bendel trainees who once mocked Rishir now clicked their tongues in admiration.
"Haa..."
Two hundred.
Rishir finally halted his sword after wrapping up training and caught his breath.
"Hm...?"
Noticing Roera late, Rishir approached her.
"Roera. What brings you here?"
His breaths reeked of sweetness and blood, his body soaked everywhere in sweat.
But those blue eyes stared straight ahead, undimmed.
Ha.
That was Roera's reaction to Rishir's sight.
Having watched his routine with dry eyes, she snorted shortly.
"I can't watch this."
"..."
Rishir flinched briefly at Roera's overtly disdainful attitude but maintained his composure.
"What is it, Roera. Do you need something from me?"
"..."
Roera stared at Rishir silently.
A heavy silence fell between them for a moment.
As Rishir's eyes seemed to tremble faintly, he spoke.
"If there's nothing, I'll be going. I want to focus on rest. I still have a long way to fill my training schedule."
"You're gonna train more here? Are you insane?"
Rishir's lips twitched faintly.
Roera didn't miss it.
"You think saying that makes me happy somehow?"
"...What?"
"This pathetic show. How long do you plan to keep it up?"
"Roera. Calm down. What are you even—"
Haa.
Roera let out a deep sigh.
"Are you an idiot? No, scratch that. You are an idiot. You think you're clever, but you are. You really think this will make that man pay attention to you?"
"...!"
Rishir's expression hardened rigidly.
Like someone struck dead center.
"I know exactly why you're doing this. Training? Give it up. The trainees said you're swinging that sword in a trance all day. But I come and see? Trance my ass. I've never seen someone swing a sword with so many distractions. Be grateful he ignores you. Hell, he might've already seen your sorry state and decided on total indifference."
"Hey, Roera—"
"Why not swing it my way instead? Your ears perked up when I showed. All your focus shifted to me. You think I wouldn't notice?"
"..."
"Look at me working so hard~ Look at your devoted son~ Please notice me, Dad~ You've been yapping all day, my head hurts."
It was as Roera said.
Rishir knew his training wasn't efficient.
The main—no, sole purpose of this regimen was to attract eyes and attention.
Rishir's flailing to earn his father's recognition had long devolved into this misguided method.
"Wh-what do you know!!!"
His inner thoughts exposed, Rishir yelled, face flushed.
"I don't wanna know."
Roera's raised voice cooled to icy sharpness.
"I don't wanna deal with trash like you."
"Then don't!!! From the start, you—what makes you so great!?"
"What?"
"You think it'd be different if you were in my shoes!?"
"..."
Roera's face stiffened.
Misinterpreting it, Rishir pressed on with heightened momentum.
"If I were like you—not a bastard—if Father had just acknowledged me—I could've done way better than you!!! Conversely, if you were the bastard, you think you'd be anything!? Have you ever once considered my position, unable to earn Father's recognition!!!"
"Is that so important?"
"What?"
Roera smiled again.
A bitter smile unlike her prior cynicism.
"You want that man's acknowledgment that badly?"
"...What?"
"You want recognition from the man who doesn't see you as his son?"
"You—you—"
"Isn't it ridiculous? He knocks her up and walks away. Leaves the kid's mom to die. Plugs his ears, closes his eyes, blames the child?"
"You—how dare you speak of the family head like that...!"
"Here comes the dutiful son. Just say you're the legitimate daughter. I'll be the bastard."
Roera looked away, face saying she was done talking.
Rishir did the same.
"..."
Then. Roera's gaze lingered briefly on Rishir's hand.
On the hands blistered from countless swings.
"Hey, Rishir. Quit the pointless effort and beg me."
"What—"
"Do that crap a hundred thousand times. See if that man notices. See if your swordplay improves even a bit. Isn't that why you're doing it—to learn swordsmanship? Huh? So take a surer path."
The grown little sister was still shorter than her big brother.
But her womanly stature matched his eye level, exuding its own intimidation and grace.
Roera stepped right up to Rishir and jerked her chin.
"Isn't begging your specialty? Beg. Like you did to that man. Who knows? Your pretty little sister might not be as stingy and grace you with lessons. Not the Bendel Style you crave, of course."
For some reason, Roera had not inherited the Bendel Style swordsmanship.
She rejected all family support and forged her own path.
To Rishir, dominated by victimhood, it seemed a luxury only non-bastards could afford.
"...Go."
Rishir averted his eyes from his little sister looking down at him from a lower height.
"Rest time's over."
"Ah. Suit yourself."
Roera shrugged once and turned away without regret.
"...Damn it."
Rishir didn't hear Roera's voice, sounding like self-reproach.
From the next day, Rishir no longer appeared at the training ground.
"Master Rishir."
A familiar voice greeted me upon returning to the annex after parting with my mentor.
"Oh, Maya~"
Roera's maid.
Maya, the girl with impeccably neat bobbed hair like it was measured with a ruler.
"What brings you here so late?"
"What brings me here so late?"
I waved cheerfully, and she widened her eyes in shock.
Unbelievable!
Her expression screamed it.
"This morning. Didn't I tell you?"
"This morning?"
"Lady Roera requests a meeting, so please visit the front garden of the main residence at lunch. Was I wrong?"
"Ah. Yes, you did."
"Then why—"
Maya looked to the sky.
The sky already past lunch, draped in sunset.
Maya said no more.
Like a rapper dropping the mic in a battle?
She'd mic-dropped.
"You waited all this time?"
"And if I did?"
"Aigoo... I told you. I might not make it due to business. So don't wait."
"...Did your business go well?"
"Of course."
Since that business was killing time to avoid Roera.
"You mean the business you prioritized over meeting Lady Roera?"
She's really mad.
Her eyes widening isn't a joke.
Time to back down.
She's a noble of higher status than a bastard like me, building a career in the Bendel Family to advance to central noble society. No point in getting on her bad side.
But how to back down.
"Huff, huff, huff!"
Sudden shortness of breath.
Why?
Oh right. Yeah.
The bastard had run heart-bursting to keep his promise to his adorable little sister and his respected maid.
"S-sorry I'm late...! Business dragged on— Is Roera still waiting!? Let's go right now!"
"Ah."
Whether my sincerity got through, Maya closed her eyes in admiration.
Definitely not resignation from whatever this was.
"Follow me."
Trailing Maya led to the garden in the main residence's front yard.
There, a woman lounged at the tea-time table, long legs propped up, reading a book in one hand.
Her long golden hair tied back carelessly, yet exuding elegance—
My little sister Roera.
I sat directly opposite her.
"Hey."
My little sister greeted me cheerfully.
"What?"
"What what?"
"...Forget it. I don't wanna waste more time on you, so straight to the point. I refuse. Say it."
"I refuse."
"Aaaaaah!!! Not to me!"
Unable to hold back, Roera revved like an engine and exploded.
Roera's story went like this.
Some marriage talk involving me and a certain lady from above was underway, and I must absolutely refuse it.
"What."
Marriage? Sudden marriage talk?
Don't tell me the army?
They're implying forced enlistment via this metaphorical marriage euphemism?
If so, forget refusing—I'll shit and roll in it.
Still send me to the army? Fine, I acknowledge it.
For that sincerity, I'll tack a deserter onto the Bendel family register.
"I told them straight. If that marriage goes through? I won't sit still."
"...As expected, only Roera worries about me."
"What nonsense is that?"
If someone saw Roera's face now, they'd comment on our sibling bond.
Your little sister isn't embarrassed—she's genuinely disgusted?
In another sense, true siblings.
Siblings are genetically programmed to disgust each other.
The great revelation God gained from Adam and Eve, perhaps.
"Ah. Not enlistment talk?"
"...What bullshit?"
"My mistake then. Good. Anyway, marriage? What's the deal?"
"Arghhh—"
What reaction suits a big brother seeing his little sister on the verge of foaming?
Smartphone video? Popcorn? Modern conveniences hit different today.
"Politics!"
"Politics?"
"Two families feuding whenever they lock eyes—better to settle with marriage and get friendly. That cliché political crap. You'll be marrying into that family as a son-in-law."
"I haven't heard a thing."
"Your opinion doesn't matter to that man."
Mood thing?
Roera looked somehow displeased saying it.
"So objecting changes nothing? And you meddling in my affairs? What's the wind blowing?"
"None of your business."
"Don't tell me. Hate losing oppa to another girl?"
Idle nonsense expecting a zinger like before.
"...What're you saying."
Roera fled the seat.
"?"
Unexpected reaction.
Everything was noisy.
How a noble lady should conduct herself—
How a Bendel lady should behave—
How my daughter should be—
I'm just me.
Only one person.
The only one who saw her as she was.
"..."
She just wanted to go back to the old days.
When she was his closest friend—
And he was hers.
She'd tried, in her own way.
No.
She'd tried everything she could.
Maybe he'd thank her.
Maybe things could go back to how they were.
Even marrying Dintal in his stead was for that.
She wanted him to find his own life.
To realize he wasn't just a bastard abandoned by his father.
But what returned was news he'd enlisted for the family's honor.
Then gone missing from his unit.
And—
"You idiot..."
Paradoxically, because he'd met death, she gently laid the regaining-warmth man's body on the ground.
How did it come to this.
"..."
She knew.
The real idiot was her.
There might've been a much better way.
A much easier path.
But she hadn't taken it.
She wanted to believe it'd resolve itself someday.
She turned away, took the long road around.
This was the result.
Solely her own fault—
"..."
The woman's lips moved.
In the end, they didn't open.
No words now would hold meaning.
"Roera, my little sister."
Instantly, a nostalgic voice reached the woman's ears.
The woman realized at once.
It wasn't him. Not his voice.
Yet the woman made a foolish mistake.
She listened to that voice laced with chill.
The light faded from the woman's eyes.