The horrific feeling of helplessness that rushed over her when she was left all alone, or the shock of realizing that she had ultimately been nothing more than a superficial, empty shell.
The things she thought belonged to her were merely illusions like scattering sand, and no matter how hard she struggled to break through the situation, she was only running in place with the power she possessed.
‘Well, it’s not like I intend to sit around wallowing in self-pity, though!’
The past was the past, and failure was failure. It was as simple as that.
Everything was too precious to spend time ruminating on the past and remaining trapped in pity.
Beatrice’s light green eyes quietly stared at the person sitting in front of her for a moment. To be precise, at the complex emotions rippling gently within his matching blue eyes.
Clicking her tongue, she tapped his forehead with the back of her hand and spoke.
“Hey, my mom always said that the most thrilling thing is a comeback victory. We can just start from now, so what’s there to be so serious about? It’s not like you died and came back to life or something.”
“…I suppose that is the case, isn’t it?”
“Mm. The key is how to build power, and actually, I’ve got something in mind.”
“You too?”
Beatrice, who had been thoroughly ignoring Clyde’s words, rolled her eyes to meet his gaze.
Looking into each other’s eyes, the two wore identical smiles as if they had never been fighting. It was the smile they used to wear as children when plotting something behind their parents’ backs.
Certain that they were thinking the same thing, the two spoke simultaneously.
“Achieving a meritorious deed as quickly as possible to earn a title, right?”
“It’s building a strong side of our own, isn’t it?”
…Huh?
At the completely mismatched answers, a brief silence fell inside the carriage.
Blinking and staring blankly at each other, the two began to scoff at one another as if they had never been quiet.
“What? Earning a title through meritorious deeds? If it’s a merit a knight like you can achieve, it’s either distinguishing yourself in war or, what, dramatically reclaiming a territory in crisis, but you can barely handle getting a scratch on your arm during training without whining!”
“I should be saying that to you, Bea. Making people our side? You, who doesn’t even know when the annual social season is and has no interest in how others see you?”
“Oh, I suppose you’re an expert on it, then? Wow, how fascinating. Even Brother Kaylan doesn’t really know when the social season is because he’s so focused on practice. I guess you have plenty of time left over even after practicing?”
“Wow, how petty of you to drag family into this. Then should I talk a bit about your father too? About how incredible your father is?”
The childish bickering, worse than that of five-year-olds, reached its peak in the next moment.
“No, in the first place, what are you going to do with just a title? It’s not like our houses or yours fell because we lacked titles.”
“Do you think simply gathering people without a rallying point will work? We call those people a ragtag rabble.”
To be honest, both knew it was a chicken-or-the-egg problem. In the end, they knew both had to be done. It was just, how should one put it…
‘…We went too far with the mocking.’
Did it feel a bit too damaging to their pride to agree now?
Still, they couldn’t stay like this forever. Beatrice cleared her throat lightly and offered a compromise.
“Fine! Then let’s test whose suggestion is more effective for the goal. But since we might just be stubborn if we do it normally, let’s do the opposite of each other.”
“The opposite?”
“Yeah. I’ll earn the merit and get a title. You go and make people our side.”
“Why did the conversation suddenly go that way?”
“Why? Are you afraid you’ll lose?”
“Me?”
As if he had heard the most absurd thing in the world, Clyde swept back his bangs with one hand.
Then, with a relaxed expression, he gave a slight nod.
“Fine. Give it a try. The loser becomes the winner’s servant for a week.”
“Deal.”
Nodding readily, Beatrice turned her head toward the window with a light snort.
She was confident she wouldn’t lose.
There were roughly three ways to receive a title in the Empire.
The first was when one accomplished a universally recognized beneficial deed, such as rescuing lives or improving institutional systems.
The second was when one achieved military merits in war to raise the Empire’s name high, or defended and protected a region in a state of danger, such as a disaster, conflict, or raid.
And the last was when one achieved a remarkable feat, such as a new invention or theory that had never existed before.
Beatrice knew a way to knock out two of these three at once.
‘If I can assist Her Majesty the Empress and bring magic fully into the institutional sphere, the inventions I made in the past will be more than enough to win me a title!’
Even if someone were to call it petty for using things from before her regression, this was one thing that didn’t weigh on her conscience at all.
‘Because the alchemy I learned from my dad is one of the few things I can proudly say I accomplished purely with my own strength!’
What she didn’t know, however, was that Clyde was thinking the same thing beside her.
‘If I can just save the Marquisate of Downer, which was isolated in the past, many things will be resolved. To be honest, beating Beatrice will just be a bonus.’
Having already won total victories in their imaginations, the two wore smiles on their lips with much more generous attitudes.
It was also because they felt good thinking about bossing the other around with useless, trivial chores.
Beatrice, who had been humming slightly while forming a detailed plan, let out a small exclamation as if she had remembered something.
“Oh, right. But before that, there’s something we need to do first for the smooth execution of our plans.”
“Ah… that.”
As if he truly knew what she was talking about this time, Clyde gave a nod and once again spoke simultaneously with Beatrice.
“Valoa Edvane Crawford.”
“We have to get rid of Valoa! If that’s too hard, we should at least tie her feet.”
Ah, now they were finally communicating!
Beatrice nodded her head with an expression of relief.
“Valoa is, how should I put it… she’s that. A variable who acts so much on whim that you never know where she’ll bounce.”
“She’s become even more dangerous because of today’s wedding, too.”
As long as they didn’t know where or how she would appear to interfere with them, it was best to get her out of their sight somehow.
“Isn’t there… some good way? Should I try to recall any incidents the Lady was involved in in the past?”
“No. There’s no need for that.”
“Huh?”
“Valoa Edvane Crawford is a violent and headstrong scoundrel, but because of that, she’s a simple person whose actions are obvious.”
Since she was someone who moved according to her mood, if they provoked that “mood,” her actions were self-evident. That must have been how Princess Elodie utilized her as well.
“Are you saying we should set a trap and intentionally drive her to commit something bad?”
“It’s similar, but we don’t even need to be that active. We just need to go around making it obvious to everyone just how happy we are to be newly married. I have faith in Valoa.”
“…Faith?”
“Faith in her cruel nature. Simply by showing how happy the two of us are, she will self-destruct on her own. And it won’t take long either.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes slightly at the cold cynicism in his voice.
‘Come to think of it, his hostility toward Valoa seemed quite significant at the wedding too, didn’t it?’
Was there… something that happened between them in the past?
No matter how much she racked her brain, she had no memory of Valoa taking action against him. Unlike now, when they had suddenly announced their marriage, the Beatrice of the past hadn’t been such an eyesore to Valoa.
Beatrice quickly gave up on the thought and spoke to Clyde. It was best to ask these things right away.
“Clyde, did Valoa do something to you?”
“Suddenly?”
“It’s not sudden; you shudder with loathing whenever you see that human. As if you’re looking at some disgusting bug.”
Beatrice watched intently as Clyde’s blue eyes widened slightly before sinking back into a calm stillness.
“Look at that face. There really was something. What was it? Did she tell you to become her husband if you wanted to save your life? Or did she treat you like a pet, saying you were nothing now that the Duke’s house was ruined?”
“….”
“Ah, what is it!”
Despite Beatrice’s pressing, he silently stared at her for a moment before abruptly reaching out with one hand to squeeze both of her cheeks together.
Then, with his usual slick smile, he parted his lips.
“Forget it. Kids don’t need to know.”
“…Kids… what?”
“I’m saying if you have time to be curious about such useless things, you should practice more, my honey. Or, should we take this opportunity to practice kissing too?”
“Ah.”
Feeling a sense of déjà vu from the wedding, Beatrice screwed up her face.
To hell with Valoa or whatever; for now, war with this b*stard came first.
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