Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Fiancée
As a result, I ended up going to the Porca Academy.
The events from earlier replayed in my mind like a rewind.
‘Father~ Marti is exceptionally talented.’
‘Ophelienne.’
The same person who had sharply drawn a line, telling me to call her “House Lord,” was infinitely lenient in front of my sister. Her expression remained cold, but her eyes dripped with a sweetness that could rot your teeth.
Both sides had their reasons to feel wronged.
‘And Martios is a Morietti. Father, is there any Morietti ancestor who didn’t attend the Academy?’
‘…’
‘Of course there is. Raiko Drash de la Morietti. But his potential was too extraordinary; the Academy’s framework could not contain him. So no one ever questioned it.’
‘…’
‘But Marti?’
My sister placed both hands on my shoulders.
‘Marti is not a Raiko. This child must graduate from the Academy. Otherwise, it would tarnish our family’s reputation.’
‘…Is that so.’
‘Most importantly—’
She paused mid-sentence, deliberately. It was her habit, leaving the other person to imagine the conclusion themselves.
Ophelienne arched her brows slightly, showing a hint of sadness.
‘I’m bored.’
She said it while pinching my cheeks like a doll.
The House Lord silently nodded at that. That expression…!
The decision had already been made. Oh, please.
‘Marti.’
‘…Yes?’
A foreboding feeling passed over me. Something told me this feeling wouldn’t lie.
‘Go to the Academy.’
‘No—’
‘This matter is settled.’
‘Yahoo!’
Damn it.
Father had almost been on my side. I could have moved to the capital, lived a life of cultural indulgence, and enjoyed leisure.
My dream life was right in front of me, and my sister ruined it all.
‘I shouldn’t have brought her along…’
I thought she would help, but she not only ruined everything, she overturned the whole table.
‘I can’t let this go without talking back.’
No matter how terrifying she was, I had to speak my mind.
I puffed up my chest and went to where my sister was.
She was usually practicing shooting outdoors at this hour.
“Nuna!”
On the gentle, breezy hill, she stood under a parasol held by her attendant.
Her dark gray dress and composed demeanor looked like a painting come to life.
“Why, Marti?”
She smiled lightly, taking the musket loaded by the attendant. Long black gloves covered her hands.
She aimed at the distant target.
Glancing at me briefly, she returned her gaze to the bullseye.
“What was that earlier—”
Bang!!!
The thunderous shot smoked through the air.
Ophelienne handed the musket back to the attendant.
The attendant waved a flag by the target to mark the score: 8 points.
Ophelienne sipped coffee and looked at me with a satisfied expression.
“What did you—”
“…Earlier, what was that?”
“Earlier?”
“We made a promise.”
She rested her chin thoughtfully on her hand.
“Promise… hmm, did we make a promise?”
“….”
“Do you have proof we made a promise? A contract with my signature or seal, perhaps?”
“…So you would say that?”
Ophelienne crossed her long legs and looked down at me.
Her pale face was flushed, and her baby-deer eyes were filled with resentment.
Her small fists trembled.
‘She’s really angry.’
It made sense. The drawing I had just completed had been ruined.
I thought it over carefully.
What was Martios’ intention? Refusing the Academy meant stepping away from politics.
The Academy offered connections necessary for anyone who intended to involve themselves in political affairs. To refuse meant walking naked onto a battlefield.
‘But you didn’t need that.’
Morietti was not a central noble. A family rooted in the empire’s outskirts, practically an independent fief.
Though vassals of the emperor, they were nearly autonomous.
Therefore, ties with central nobles weren’t crucial.
‘Instead of confronting me directly, staying in the family to sway retainers and elders… a clever choice.’
Still, I didn’t like it.
Ophelienne’s lips curved slowly into a smile. A smile, but not one of joy.
The sister I knew wasn’t like this. She was purer before.
To have her act this way toward me, of all people… it was painful.
“You’ve become cunning, my brother.”
“…Huh?”
Martios looked clueless.
That harmless face concealing such scheming…
Had I not known, I could have been completely fooled.
But the plan was blocked. Martios would go to the Academy. The scheme of staying behind alone had failed.
Most importantly—
‘He intends to leave the territory.’
Leave.
Out of my sight.
Ophelienne laughed.
Leave?
Where to?
That was unacceptable.
“I’ll be off then.”
Martios spoke with suppressed emotion and turned to leave.
At that moment, Ophelienne suddenly sprang from her chair and playfully hugged him from behind.
She pressed her face against his soft cheek.
A year ago, she had often done this. Martios would protest, but then laugh.
Now, it was a bittersweet memory.
“Don’t do that~ Come with me. I already told our friends you’d be coming before vacation.”
“Ugh…”
Martios muttered, short of breath.
She had wrapped her arms around his chest and stomach, pressing him snugly.
It wasn’t forceful.
It was natural, as if it had always been this way.
And that was what scared me more.
Martios was turning seventeen this year, almost an adult, but still petite.
He was a head shorter than her, so when she held him, he was buried in her embrace.
“…I’m going now.”
Martios struggled free.
Being in the arms of the infamous villain sent chills down his spine.
‘…I need to get out of this cursed household fast.’
My leisurely noble life was ruined. Trying to refuse the Academy would anger Father.
The House Lord’s wrath must be avoided. Then all my luxury would vanish.
Going to the Academy seemed inevitable.
‘Academy…’
I recalled the main story.
The Academy wasn’t entirely safe.
Dangerous incidents abounded.
Many characters met gruesome deaths there.
There was no guarantee I wouldn’t be caught up in it.
‘Still, my sister wants to keep me in check.’
Ophelienne trusted no one. Not friends, not Father, not professors, not her fiancée.
To her, people were tools. Nothing more, nothing less.
Recalling her past villainy sent shivers down my spine.
To her, my declaration of quitting the Academy was enough to trigger her suspicion.
‘Maybe I acted too hastily…’
Even if I tried to say, “I don’t intend to be the House Lord,” she would dismiss it as nonsense.
So, I decided to retreat.
“Leaving already?”
“I’ve said all I needed to.”
“Come on, want to try shooting again? It’s a new model developed for the royal family. Good craftsmanship, some control, finally usable.”
Ophelienne caressed the musket from the attendant.
“I’ll try it once.”
“Here, take it.”
The musket was heavy; I almost dropped it.
“You need practice. A man, yet shorter and weaker than me?”
“….”
Ignoring her taunt, I raised the gun.
What to do here?
It was different from modern rifles.
“Haha, young master, you don’t seem to know anything.”
Her attendant sneered. Seeking approval from Ophelienne, he shrugged.
“Miss, a young master like you cannot shoot properly. Better with a brush, I’d say.”
I ignored him; I was used to it.
Then, Ophelienne’s doll-like head stiffened.
Still smiling, yet something cold lingered.
“Is that so?”
“Not only with guns, your sword skills were mediocre; you soon gave up, right?”
“That’s true.”
“Hahaha.”
“Then why speak?”
“Haha… Excuse me?”
“What’s your position?”
“…I serve the Morietti.”
“And Martios’ surname?”
“…Morietti.”
“And yet?”
Having said that, the attendant had no choice but to realize.
“I-I'm sorry.”
He wiped the smile off his face and bowed.
“Keep your mouth shut. He’s my brother, not yours. Understand?”
He couldn’t look up, trembling in apology.
I glared at Ophelienne.
One phrase: “Only I can torment him.”
She was a cruel woman.
“…Understood. I’ll remember.”
“Be careful. Anyway… Marti, let’s try shooting once.”
Ophelienne came behind me, guiding my stance.
Her gray hair brushed my neck in the wind. Ticklish.
I aimed and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
“Close, but missed.”
The target was still.
Ophelienne patted my shoulder in consolation.
“Try again. At least hit something.”
“Alright.”
She nodded, and the attendant handed me the loaded musket.
I took my stance.
Twisting my body slightly sideways, left hand supporting the barrel.
Shoulder braced. Aim. Deep breath, hold.
Skill:
[Excellent Marksmanship]
I had been a sharpshooter in the military. Good vision and keen senses too.
Feeling confident this time.
Ophelienne assisted my posture.
I pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The target wobbled slightly.
Ophelienne narrowed her eyes.
The bullet hit the exact center: 10 points.
‘Ten points at this distance?’
Amazing. Even she had difficulty at this range.
The attendants were equally surprised.
Martios had no athletic talent. Swordsmanship, archery, even complaining of muscle soreness after trying.
Yet, one shot, perfect score.
‘Luck?’
Martios shrugged and handed the musket back.
“…Luck. Couldn’t have done it without you, Nuna.”
“Haha. Really?”
Ophelienne smiled faintly.
No, this wasn’t luck.
Her guidance had made the perfect shot possible.
“Then, I’ll head off first. Need to prepare for the Academy.”
Martios dashed away.
Ophelienne kept his departing figure in her gray eyes until it disappeared over the hill.