The Relationship Between the Spineless Girl and Her Master (1)
My head throbbed like it was about to split open. The kind of headache that felt like a grinder was chewing through my brain from the inside of my temples. Whether it was from crying, yelling, or both, I had no idea. I didn't let it show, though. That wasn't why I'd gone to see him in the first place.
I'd planned to just confirm he was alive, ask if he was okay, say I'd come back next time, and leave. Ideally, I'd get him out on the next visit. Having been locked up myself once, I didn't want to leave family rotting in a place like that.
As I climbed the stairs, Ariel was standing in the hallway. She leaned lightly against the wall, one hand clutching her elbow. Her eyes mixed worry and something like gratitude. It was strange seeing those two emotions coexist on one face.
"How'd it go?"
Ariel's voice had a slightly excited lilt, laced with the satisfaction of having done a good deed. Not wrong, exactly... but it still rubbed me the wrong way.
"Were you waiting?"
"Oh, yeah. Well... yeah, it is kinda weird for the master to wait around for her bodyguard."
"Where's Elana?"
"Standing outside the door. This room only has one entrance anyway, so unless the ceiling collapses, we're fine."
"It wasn't exactly fun catching up after so long, but thanks anyway. At least I got to see his face while he's still breathing."
"...What do you mean, 'not fun'?"
"Just what I said. No way good words are flying between survivors of a smashed-up house."
Probably. I guess I'd hoped to hear something like, sorry for dragging you here when we first met. Not that I'd told him to say it—I just wanted to hear it straight from him. Being called the treasure of House Vintervalt didn't hit home much anymore. I was war spoils now. Meaningless trash the imperial family could do whatever with. But he could've at least said it was a relief we were both still alive.
I hadn't wanted to say it myself—that I'd been dragged here because of him, or our dear father.
"He was... really worried about you."
"Yeah?"
"What'd you talk about down there? I wasn't eavesdropping, but the yelling carried up a bit."
"Doesn't matter what we said. Like I told you, we've both lost so much, our hearts don't have the slack for it anymore."
"...Do I look like an idiot to you? It wasn't just that."
Just that. Was the fall of a house just something? Could the blood feud—your father slain by mine and Brother's hands—be dismissed as just a trifle?
Yeah, expecting anything from a naive girl who didn't even know what she was saying, or how she felt, or how to live—that was the real rudeness. So I swallowed the boiling words inside me.
I was mad at Brother for pretending ignorance at his age, when he should know better. But this kid? She was just pitiable, blurting words without knowing their weight.
"Yes. So, let's head back. It's late."
"...You're my knight, aren't you?"
"That's why I use polite speech and throw myself in harm's way whenever you're in danger."
"You know that's not what I mean."
"Your Highness."
Ariel pouted, looking dissatisfied, nibbling her lower lip in a way that ruined her dignity as she turned to go. If only Father and Brother hadn't failed. I might never have remembered my past life. Hell, if I hadn't woken up, there might never have been a Rebecca at all.
But I had opened my eyes here. Been born here. So... I had to live. Even if I didn't like it, he was blood. My brother. If I got him out of this dungeon someday and kept Ariel safe, there'd be some reward. We could smooth things over. Even something small—he'd let a traitor's family scrape by. The girl was soft, pitying the pitiful, just like Brother.
She didn't need to change the world herself. Showing strain never did any good.
Come to think of it, Brother was younger than I'd been in my past life. Back then, I was a good-for-nothing drifter, following others' leads without a skill to my name. Loved, sure, but not someone worth loving—that much I knew.
Family? I wasn't the type they agonized over loving. Better to say sorry next time. I'm the adult here, body or not.
I shoved the thoughts aside and plastered on a smile. Like a mask.
Back in the room with Elana, Ariel told the servants to help us change. Whether that included me was questionable, but they dressed me too. Still a long dress. Looked like comfy clothes like Elana's were off-limits forever.
"Bring some tea and snacks for Rebecca and me."
Ariel spoke to a servant, then fixed me with a serious look. She actually seemed proper like this—more human than her usual withered expression.
Soon, the servants brought tea and treats.
"Hey."
"Yes."
"I have to know. What'd you talk about in there?"
"......"
"Why do you—someone who hasn't lost family—look like that?"
"Like what...?"
"Weren't you close?"
"We are now."
"...You expect me to believe that? The yelling from down there echoed all the way up."
"If you say that to me—no, Your Highness, you shouldn't."
"What're you...?"
"My blood rotting in that dungeon, waiting to die. My family imprisoned. Me stuck to your side. It's all because you're punishing House Vintervalt."
Color drained from Ariel's face. Her lips parted slightly, blue eyes widening and narrowing rapidly. She looked lost for words. Even if she wanted to say that wasn't her intent, facts were facts—no rebuttal.
"I... I let you see your brother as thanks for protecting me. I don't want to owe House Vintervalt."
I didn't scoff. That'd be too childish. Rebecca might, but not me—prim, sensible, no fool. I wasn't some late-teens girl fretting over marriage prospects anymore.
"Rebecca."
"Yes."
"What do you think of me?"
"My liege to protect..."
"Not that."
The girl scowled faintly, cutting me off.
"You didn't flinch when I held a blade to your throat that first day. So why the face now?"
I glanced at the full-length mirror. As always, beautiful. White hair shimmering silver, red eyes gleaming like subdued gems—not blinding, just radiant. Fresh dress—perfection.
But meeting my reflection's gaze, I couldn't read what those jewel eyes held. My expression didn't seem that different.
"If you hadn't dropped that sword the day we met, I'd have stabbed you for sure."
"Probably."
"You value your house's heir over yourself, don't you?"
I didn't—but I did. Past life or not, this was me living now. Romance fantasy heroes shed houses and factions, falling in love as individuals, overcoming misunderstandings and conflicts in beautiful tales.
I hated that. All because of some petty romance, my house crumbled, I'm trapped here, unable to escape. House Vintervalt was Rebecca's everything—so it was mine too.
"Your Highness."
"Yeah."
"We're not close enough for talks like that."
She went blank, then smirked. A new expression.
"Oh, right. I forgot for a sec."
Whispering, the girl continued...
"You and I aren't side by side. You're beneath me."
Somehow, a refreshing face. Like smiling through hurt.
I didn't answer, so she gulped cold tea, wetting her lips before setting the cup down. Quietly:
"Tell me, Rebecca. That's an order."
This time, I scoffed.
"I said why I have to live here—it's livable enough, but not really. That it's because my brother failed, so I'm living like your dog."
Ariel fell silent. No steam rose from her cup. It was cold.
"Unhappy?"
"Dunno. Are you, Your Highness?"
"You seem it."
Her fingertip traced the cup's rim as she spoke.
"You and your brother looked unbreakable, like you didn't know suffering. Made me think even Vintervalt hurts... but I don't want you making that face."
Her finger stopped. I sipped the cold tea. No aroma.