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Chapter 2
Honestly, remembering my past life was absurd enough.
But realizing that I was a side character in a novel I’d read in that past life?
That was so much more absurd that it took me a long time to believe it—let alone accept it.
And just when I had finally gotten used to those facts and thought I’d died for good, I found myself regressing.
A second round as a supporting character.
‘No, wait. If I count my previous life, that makes this my third round.’
“Jenjjang.”
“Huh?”
“Ah—nothing!”
The word slipped out before I could stop it. I waved my small hand as if to brush it away and quickly turned around.
Watch your mouth. Be careful what you say.
This frustrating side character didn’t have many people she could call an ally.
Especially not in this house.
My grandfather, who occasionally came to the capital estate, was like a storm—cold and terrifying. My father’s half-brothers and sisters, in other words my uncles and aunts, treated me like baggage dumped here by the illegitimate eldest son.
‘Well, to be fair, I was baggage.’
Anyway, because of that, even the servants treated me poorly.
Though, thinking back, this was still heaven compared to what came later.
At least my grandfather would occasionally visit, and my father was still alive then—so no one dared to openly mistreat me.
But the moment Grandfather fell ill with some unknown disease and most of the family authority shifted to my uncle, Andrea, that’s when my personal hell began.
From that day forward, the servants’ behavior toward me became unspeakably cruel.
‘Well, Andrea Uncle did say outright that as soon as Grandfather passed, he’d throw Father and me out. So of course they acted that way.’
And when Grandfather suddenly died, Andrea Eshier—now the new head of the family—kicked me out the very instant Father’s death notice arrived.
“I can’t stand to keep you here any longer!”
What was the rush?
There wasn’t even time to hold a funeral.
Later, after I fled and managed to survive on my own, I realized something strange: as the rightful heir, I’d never even seen Father’s death notice, nor his will.
Surely a lawyer must have come…
But by the time I thought of that, it was already too late—
The House of Eshier had been branded traitors, and the entire family wiped out by the Emperor’s wrath.
‘If only Father had lived.’
At the very least, our family wouldn’t have perished under a charge of treason.
No—if Father had been alive, the Emperor’s fury would never have reached such extremes.
‘Well, I’m not sure about Andrea… but still.’
Father and I would have survived.
He was the sword that upheld the Empire.
The only Swordmaster capable of wielding two sword energies and three distinct auras—Sharier Eshier.
There wasn’t a single person in the Empire who could defeat him.
Even the male lead, Callian, later reminisced: “It was my lifelong wish to cross blades with that man.”
He’d said that losing Father was like losing one of the Empire’s pillars.
So if I think about it—
‘Even if Andrea committed treason…’
If Father had survived, our family would never have been exterminated.
And if that had been the case, I could have saved Eshier.
No matter what trouble my uncles stirred up, Father and I would have lived.
“……”
As my thoughts reached that point, my heart began to beat faster.
Sweat gathered in my palms.
‘I can live.’
And not just live—
‘I can live well.’
If I can just save Father.
Clenching my small fist, I raised my gaze to the portrait on the green wall—of my father and me—and my eyes gleamed.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Probably just showing off for attention.”
From behind, I heard the maids whispering.
Arina and Lindsay.
Their voices grew slightly louder as they gossiped, and I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.
“She even slapped Lady Ba-ji yesterday! I seriously thought she’d gone insane.”
“I know, right? And then she fainted again—ugh, such a pain.”
“Honestly, that whole fainting act is getting old. What a nuisance.”
‘An act, huh?’
You little… I can hear everything.
Their whispers weren’t even subtle anymore. My heart pounded with two conflicting urges. Ignore it—it’s not worth it. vs. Turn around and smack them.
Normally, Option 1 won by a landslide. But this was my third life, after all.
I was just about to turn around and say something when—
“She probably heard that the Duke’s coming back to the capital today and decided to put on a show.”
“!”
Arina had just said something very important.
I had suspected that Grandfather’s return to the capital estate happened around this time in the past.
‘So it’s today.’
The moment I realized it, my mind kicked into overdrive.
Six-year-old Leticia would soon turn seven in half a year.
And the Eshier family had a very peculiar custom.
‘It was right around this time, wasn’t it…’
I smirked as I organized my past-life memories.
If I wanted to save Father, I first had to win Grandfather’s favor—and that started with his return today.
“Arina?”
“…What?”
“Gwampa comin’? When gwampa come?”
I asked with wide, innocent eyes, feigning pure curiosity.
The Eshier Ducal family had a unique tradition.
Every direct heir was required to live among commoners without anyone knowing their identity.
The idea was that a true successor shouldn’t grow up pampered—
Surrounded by servants and luxury, ignorant of hardship and want.
So, every heir between the age of six and seven had to leave the main estate and live in a humble district called One’s House.
This was the rite of passage every generation had to endure to inherit the greatness of Eshier.
But the founder of the house had overlooked one crucial fact: as generations passed, the family line grew exponentially.
Not only the direct descendants, but countless branch families.
There were so many Eshiers that no one could even keep track anymore.
Eventually, unrelated people started claiming the Eshier name and insisting they too had the right to be heirs.
As the chaos grew, protests erupted: the heirship should only belong to the direct bloodline, not to the distant branches.
Taking their words seriously, the fifth head of the family changed the family law before his death—
From then on, only the direct line of the Duke could inherit the title.
Naturally, the branch families rebelled.
But the sixth head, Koncello, cleverly pacified them by adding an exception clause: if a member of a branch family showed extraordinary talent, they could still be considered an heir.
Even so, up to the current tenth Duke, that exception had never once been used.
Which made my position… tricky.
I was of direct blood through my grandfather, Mago Eshier—but my father was an illegitimate child, making his claim as heir very weak.
Still, Father’s immense talent as a Swordmaster had earned him an exception.
He’d awakened not one but two auras by the age of six.
But me?
Not even close.
To be perfectly honest, in my previous life I was ignorant and uneducated—too dense to understand how things worked.
So I probably threw a fit, demanding to be sent to One’s House just like the other heirs.
Completely oblivious to the whispers calling me shameless.
“I want to go to One’s House too! Send me there!”
“I’m an Eshier too!”
I must have shouted and begged, running away and being dragged back multiple times. From “baggage” to “nuisance”—my evolution was complete.
But there had been a reason for my tantrums.
I truly believed that only by proving myself qualified as an heir could I avoid being cast out of the family.
Think about it—what else could a child do after being told all her life that she’d be thrown out the moment her father died?
All I could do was cling to survival.
And deep down, there was another reason:
a desperate, childish hope that if I returned from One’s House as a worthy heir, my cold father and terrifying grandfather might finally praise me.
Because I just wanted to be loved.
So to me, earning the right to go to One’s House wasn’t negotiable—it was the only path forward.
But that hope was shattered on the very day Grandfather returned from the countryside to the capital estate.
The day of—
“The Heir Eligibility Evaluation.”
