LPSB 18

chapter 18

I already knew there would be a warning. I could only pray that Izhael’s sword would be hidden by my voluminous dress.

The sound of footsteps belonged to a maid. She looked at me with a puzzled expression.

“Miss? What are you doing here…?”

I lifted my chin haughtily and glared at her.

The maid glanced back and forth between Izhael behind me and me, then immediately stopped in her tracks. Fortunately, Izhael had already quickly sheathed his sword while I covered him with my dress.

The maid’s inner thoughts were obvious on her face, easy to read.

‘So you were bullying Young Master Izhael again.’

Fine. It was better if it looked like I was the one picking on him.

The maid, who had been about to leave as if she saw nothing, suddenly widened her eyes. Her gaze was fixed on my neck.

“Ah, m-miss!”

Now that I thought about it, there was a cut on my neck from the sword.

I quickly covered my neck with my hand. I hadn’t thought it was a deep wound, but blood must have seeped out a little without me noticing.

At the maid’s sudden scream-like shout, the butler and other servants rushed over in a panic.

After confirming my condition, the butler immediately ordered a servant to call a physician.

The servant ran off in a hurry. The butler examined my wound and asked,

“Miss, are you alright?”

I was the one injured, but everyone else was in chaos.

‘What? Since when did they start caring this much about Shuen?’

I was about to say it was unnecessary to make such a fuss, but I stopped.

I realized why the butler and maids were acting like this. They were used to Shuen—someone who would throw a fit over even a thorn prick from a rose.

“What exactly happened, Miss?”

The butler looked around. His eyes landed on Izhael behind me—and then on the sword at his waist.

“…Don’t tell me.”

I snapped irritably before he could finish.

“What do you think? I got cut by flying fragments from a teacup!”

“…I see.”

After hearing my answer, the butler nodded stiffly.

He must have come after cleaning up the ruined tea party. Judging from the fact that he didn’t ask for details about how the teacup broke, he already knew what happened.

“Then what about Young Master Izhael…?”

“We just happened to run into each other. I was already annoyed, and seeing him just made it worse.”

At my sharp tone, the butler seemed to accept it—as expected—and dropped his suspicion.

Before he could think further, I urged him,

“My throat hurts. I’m going back to my room.”

Before turning away, my eyes met Izhael’s.

His previously confused gaze had somehow calmed down. I couldn’t read his expression.

His violet eyes, which seemed to hold only me while ignoring everyone else, felt strangely unfamiliar.

‘Did he always make that face?’

I ignored him and walked away quickly.

The maid and butler hurriedly followed behind me. As I stormed off in irritation, I could feel Izhael’s gaze lingering on me from behind. It did not leave for a long time.

Later

The physician who was urgently called frowned the moment he saw my wound.

“How did this happen?”

The butler answered for me.

“She said she was cut by flying fragments of a teacup.”

“A teacup? Who on earth…?”

The butler silently looked at him.

Understanding the meaning of that gaze, the physician let out a deep sigh.

He took out disinfectant and ointment from his bag. It wasn’t a serious wound, so treatment finished quickly.

After neatly wrapping a bandage, the physician said carefully,

“His Excellency the Marquis will be worried again.”

“That’s impossible.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

The physician looked surprised, his eyes widening. To cover up my impulsive remark, I quickly added,

“Of course he would worry. But he’s away on a trip and won’t return until the day after tomorrow.”

“Even last time when you lost consciousness, His Excellency was very concerned.”

When I collapsed during my first lesson with Hiser.

The faint voices I heard then must have belonged to the physician and the marquis.

“Don’t treat me like a sickly patient. It was just dizziness.”

I waved my hand dismissively and turned my head away.

After a moment of silence, the physician spoke to the butler.

“I’d like a moment alone with the young lady.”

The butler looked between us, then bowed slightly and left the room.

The maids also followed him out after exchanging glances.

Now only the physician and I remained.

He asked with a serious expression,

“Miss Shuen. What happened?”

“I already told you. A teacup broke.”

But the physician shook his head firmly.

“A mere scratch from a teacup cannot create such a clean wound.”

He added gravely,

“This looks more like… a sword cut.”

Meanwhile

Izhael finally came to his senses. Looking around, he let out a quiet sigh.

Without realizing it, he had walked along familiar paths and returned to the training grounds. The place was empty.

Hiser had ended the sword lesson early, saying he had to attend to the heir.

Standing alone in the wind-swept training yard, Izhael sank into thought.

Shuen Felicita was a useless insect in Izhael’s life.

Even after meeting her again after regression, he had thought something was off, but it had only been mildly irritating.

But now, she was shaking him completely.

Whenever he stood before Shuen, a strong impulse surged through him. Drawing his sword at her provocation had also been an impulsive act outside his plan.

He understood logically that he should not act this way. But somewhere in his heart, he wanted to cut her down immediately.

It wasn’t hatred or revenge. He had already completed his revenge in his previous life.

The once-burning vengeance had already turned to white ash and disappeared without a trace. If he wanted, he could easily trample her without hesitation.

‘So I shouldn’t even care.’

And yet, when he tried to swing his sword, his hand wouldn’t move.

Recently, his mind had been filled entirely with Shuen.

She constantly shattered his plans and expectations.

After realizing his regression, Izhael’s plan had been simple: live quietly, unnoticed, and leave the marquis household when expelled.

But because of Shuen, everything was going differently.

She behaved as if she were a completely different person, then suddenly acted as she had before the regression.

‘Was that guy right?’

The conversation with Hiser from their first lesson came to mind. Hiser, called the dragon who measured time, was extremely sensitive to it.

He had easily noticed Izhael’s regression. Yet he immediately said he would keep it secret.

Saying he was interested not in Izhael, but in Shuen.

“An extremely tricky and unusual curse.”

Izhael drew his sword from its sheath. With a sharp metallic sound, the blade was revealed.

He ran his finger over the faint bloodstain on it.

“….”

The moment the sharp blade had been aimed at her pale neck, Izhael had unconsciously lowered his sword.

Instead of revealing schemes, Shuen had reached out and gently patted his head.

That touch had been careful—like it carried sincerity.

Izhael’s current body was fourteen years old, but his mind was not.

And yet, for that brief moment, he felt like an innocent fourteen-year-old boy.

It must have been because of Shuen’s eyes.

They were clearly frightened, yet held unwavering belief.

Pity, sympathy, trust—and something that seemed to understand him.

Looking at her, Izhael’s mind went blank. For the first time, he felt as if he had met someone who truly understood him.

“This is ridiculous.”

He muttered quietly as if scolding himself. But that didn’t undo what had already happened.

Moreover, Shuen had even covered up what he had done in front of the servants.

His hand loosened and the sword slipped from his grasp.

He held his head with his other hand. The sensation of her careful touch still lingered.

Suppressing the uncontrollable confusion, he muttered again,

“This is insane.”