BKSF 01

Chapter 01

On the long‑awaited debutante day that every young lady dreamed of—when countless nobles were dancing and sipping champagne and the banquet was at its height—

“I like you!”

There was a brave soul who confessed the moment the debutante ball ended.

“You are my perfect ideal type!”

That brave soul was me—Ponia Harbel.

Of course, I immediately ducked my head in embarrassment.

My long, crimson hair barely managed to hide my reddened cheeks.

“Do you know me?”

At the low yet warmly toned voice, Ponia lifted her head. A man’s face came into view.

How could she not know him?

Neatly groomed dark blue‑black hair, vivid sky‑blue eyes that stood out against his dark coloring, lips curved in a gentle smile, and an immaculate, perfectly put‑together outfit without a single wrinkle.

It was none other than Shionel Devonham—the one she knew.

“You’re Young Lord Devonham, aren’t you?”
“I do not know you, my lady.”

Only then did Ponia realize she had blurted out a confession without even introducing herself.

“Ponia! Ahem… I’m Ponia Harbel.”

But who wouldn’t be excited? My favorite character from the novel! Standing right in front of my current crush!

At sixteen, one winter morning, Ponia woke up late and realized a shocking truth.

She had reincarnated into the novel I Want a Happy Ending.

“I don’t understand. There’s no reason for a lady I met for the first time today to like me.”

No reason? What nonsense is that?

Shionel Devonham—the kindest male lead in the entire setting.

Despite his high status, he never lost his humility; he knew nothing of injustice; his pure devotion was reserved solely for the heroine; he was considerate enough never to force his feelings.

Unlike other male leads who showed a wrecked personality toward anyone who wasn’t “their woman,” readers praised him as a rare, genuine example of a true male lead.

She was one of those readers.

How could anyone not like him?

At first, it was just pure fan admiration—as a reader. The novelty of living in the same world as her favorite was stronger than anything else.

But watching her favorite from afar turned out to be…

‘Even better than I imagined! He’s amazing! The best!’

“Not liking you would be harder.”
“…Pardon?”
“Please stay just as you are….”

Though bewildered by Ponia’s cryptic words, Shionel didn’t show it.

“Lady Harbel, how old are you this year?”
“I’m seventeen.”
“…And your debutante?”
“I finished it today.”

Even Shionel, who had maintained perfect composure, couldn’t fully control his expression this time.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, then quickly closed it.

Was that a swallowed sigh? Probably just my imagination.

“I cannot consider your confession.”
“…Why?”
“You are still young. Seventeen is about the same age as my younger sibling.”
“But I’ve already had my debutante.”
“Just now, yes.”

His voice was cool and firm—but paradoxically, Ponia fell for him all over again.

In an era where girls married at sixteen once they debuted, here was a man traditional enough to care about age.

Seriously—what’s his flaw?

“Then how about a seventeen‑year‑old who’s like twenty‑four?”

Ponia stepped closer to him.

“…My lady?”
“I wondered if you prefer older women. I can adjust to that.”

‘If we count my past life, I’m older anyway.’

Faced with her growing boldness, Shionel actually took a step back.

“I can really adjust to anything.”
“…”
“I’m more mature than I look.”
“…”
“I think more deeply than other girls my age. Once, after talking with my grandmother, she even wondered if my late grandfather had reincarnated.”
“…”
“And if I say more—earlier, I left because the other young ladies just weren’t on my level—”
“Pfft!”

Right in the middle of her serious speech, laughter burst out.

Shionel belatedly covered his mouth.

“I apologize, my lady. Please don’t misunderstand. Your joke simply caught me off guard.”

It wasn’t a joke—it was all true—but if the male lead says it’s a joke, then it’s a joke.

“You seem like a cheerful person.”
“So does that mean you’ve grown fond of me?”
“No. There’s still no room to consider your confession.”

His rejection was razor‑sharp. Maybe I should’ve just enjoyed watching him smile a little longer.

“It’s not that I dislike you. Even meeting you for the first time, I can tell you’re charming.”
“…”
“However, I still have many things I must do, and I’m not ready to hold other feelings. I would only end up hurting you.”
“…”
“Can you understand that?”

Was it really fair for rejection to sound this sweet?

Honestly, enough to make future rejected ladies jealous.

With such gentle words, Ponia’s answer was already decided.

“Yes….”
“Good girl.”

A hand—easily two sizes larger than hers—reached out. He carefully smoothed her red hair, tousled by the wind.

Ponia’s cheeks flushed.

“…Am I a good girl?”
“Very much so.”

His tone clearly treated her like a younger sibling. She knew that—but she couldn’t stop her mouth.

“Then when would you be willing to consider it if I confess again?”
“…”
“Just consider it! How many years until I’m not too young, and until you’re ready to hold feelings?”

Even though he would’ve been justified in ignoring a clingy young lady who didn’t know when to stop, our male lead never brushed Ponia aside, even as she bordered on becoming a nuisance.

“If it were… about three years. Then I couldn’t see you as merely a child anymore. It would be my age now… and by then, I would have inherited my title as well.”
“Inherit your title….”

The novel didn’t cover the male lead’s past in much detail—only brief, fragmentary flashbacks.

Three years. As far as she knew, around that time, Shionel would…

“My lady?”

The shadow that crossed her face vanished quickly, replaced by a bright smile.

“Okay! I’ll confess again in three years!”

At her battle‑cry‑like declaration and resolute expression, Shionel laughed once more.

“I’ll look forward to that.”

And so Ponia’s confession came to an end, wrapped in sweet memories.

At least, at that time, she had no idea what lay ahead of her.

.
.
.

“Eek!”

It happened the moment she stepped into the cabin. Her body was yanked forward, then slammed to the floor by overwhelming force.

“Ugh….”

She could only groan through clenched teeth, pain shooting through her—but she wasn’t given time to recover.

A large hand seized her throat and squeezed mercilessly.

“Kgh! Ghk—”
“Who are you.”

A cold voice rang in her ears.

“Who sent you.”
“Ghh….”
“Answer me.”

How was she supposed to answer while being strangled?!

Ponia clawed desperately at the assailant’s hand and forced her eyes open—but the room was too dark to make out his face.

Saaa—

A cool breeze stirred the curtains.

Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating both Ponia and the attacker.

“…!”

The moment she saw his face, horror washed over hers.

Dark blue‑black hair that gleamed even in faint moonlight, sky‑blue eyes that shone clearly upon her, the gentle hands that once smoothed her messy hair, the upright demeanor—

Fragments of the past snapped into the present.

“Shi—Shio….”

Three years after confessing to Shionel, Ponia reunited with the man who had been her ideal—her first love—in a way she never could have imagined.

No, truly, never.

Three years ago, the man who had been her beautiful first love—

“You want to die?”

—had completely fallen to darkness and was now threatening to kill her.

What is this…? Give me back my gentle male lead!

So how did my first love end up trying to murder me in this insane situation?

We just need to rewind time a little.

How far back?

“To bankruptcy.”

Yes.

Back to that moment.