Chapter 2

“Nothing will happen. Your birthday is coming up soon, and so is the succession ceremony. We’ve already prepared the money we’ll need to offer the Emperor, and more than half of the nobles in the Council of Elders have pledged their support for you. So, you becoming the head of the family is practically a done deal.”

It was Shannon’s gentle reassurance that brought Isabella back to reality.

“I hope you’re right…”

“If things really go south, you can always run Fairy Garden in another country and live there! Ah, wait. The ducal family isn’t ruined yet, so I guess that doesn’t really work. Anyway, don’t worry. Even if he’s a viscount, what could he possibly accomplish in just two weeks?”

That’s true.

If only Viscount Tyrone would just stay quiet, like you said…

Unlike his behavior in the past, Isabella was uneasy about how suspiciously quiet her uncle had been lately.

Based on everything she had experienced so far, he was not someone who would simply sit back and do nothing.

“What about Dilmune? Have they heard anything about suspicious movements or rumors?”

Dilmune, the underground organization known for being the best information network on the continent.

Dilmune had appeared roughly ten years ago. Its headquarters and the identity of the people behind it were unknown, but it was famous for keeping its clients’ identities strictly confidential as long as they were paid.

Thanks to them, over the past five years Isabella had been able to protect the Brwin ducal family from Viscount Tyrone and the Council of Elders supporting him, while secretly expanding Fairy Garden.

“Suspicious movements? None at all. Everything’s the same as usual.”

“My uncle isn’t someone who will willingly give up his position as my guardian.”

Despite everything proceeding without a problem, Isabella was bothered by her heart, which continued to beat irregularly.

It felt as though an invisible trap was slowly approaching her from beneath the surface.

Anxiety crept up from the tips of her toes, and she tightly clasped both hands together.

Over the past five years since she had become aware of her previous life, countless pieces of the puzzle had gradually fallen into place.

Now, only one piece remained.

If there was one fortunate thing amid all her misfortune, it was that her desperate struggle to survive had caused this, her fourth life, to gradually diverge from the original story.

The major plot points still seemed to remain unchanged.

But every now and then, something she had never known about would suddenly emerge and send the story in an entirely different direction.

The Kairan prince coming to the Billoa Empire as part of a diplomatic delegation was one such occurrence.

It had never happened in her previous life.

Seeing the worried expression on Isabella’s face, Shannon frowned along with her.

“Bella. Instead of worrying, why don’t you focus on preparing for the succession ceremony? If you’re really that anxious, you could always take an interest in the diplomatic delegation like I am.”

Isabella let out a hollow laugh at Shannon’s sudden suggestion.

Fine, she could understand focusing on preparations for the succession ceremony.

But—

“The diplomatic delegation? Why would I?”

Even though Isabella’s lips had twisted upward in disbelief, Shannon remained quite serious.

“When you distract yourself with random things and just watch without thinking too much, your anxiety gets a little better. I’m speaking from experience. That’s what I did when my family went bankrupt.”

It was a sad story to laugh off.

As Isabella’s lips wavered between a smile and a grimace, Shannon added with a wink,

“And apparently, he’s incredibly handsome.”

“What?”

“The Kairan prince! How handsome and impressive must he be for young ladies to go crazy over a man who already has a child, to the point of actually pining for him!”

Watching Shannon squeal that she wanted to see him at least once, the corners of Isabella’s lips lifted as well.

“Come to think of it, he was there too…”

“Hm? What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

Shannon’s exaggerated excitement reminded Isabella of the Kairan prince, who was mentioned as a supporting character in the original novel.

Dark golden hair that looked as though it had been melted from pure gold.

Blue eyes clearer and brighter than the sky.

And an elegant, refined aura that seemed far too sophisticated for a child.

When Isabella was young, after her father’s death, she had gone to the Kairan Empire with Marquis Sellerby, a member of her family’s Council of Elders and her godfather.

It was there that she had happened to meet a boy who seemed at least two heads taller than her.

By the time she learned that the boy, who had bristled with sharp thorns as though he were preparing to fight the entire world, was Prince Leonard of Kairan, she had already returned to the Billoa Empire.

Across her three previous repeating lives, that brief childhood encounter had been the entirety of her connection with him.

She had never developed any particularly strong feelings toward him.

Still, she did want to meet him again at least once.

After all, in her previous life, she had died while trying to obtain his help.

Isabella was quietly watching the excited Shannon when—

“Lady Isabella!”

Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside, and the door to the room where they were staying was thrown open.

“What is it?”

Jeanne, who had stepped in front of the door, flinched in surprise.

Isabella was equally startled by their sudden arrival.

“Nanny? Jeanne?”

The two of them had seen her off that very morning, telling her to have a safe trip.

Why had they returned with such desperate expressions on their faces?

“What happened? And why do you both look like that?”

An ominous sense of unease swept over her.

A moment later, Isabella’s complexion hardened at the words that came from Jeanne’s mouth.

Along the long corridor, which began with delicately carved statues of angels and young girls, magnificent paintings depicting the history of the Billoa Empire stretched endlessly.

Amid them, a glimpse of dark brown hair appeared and disappeared.

The footsteps that had been soft and graceful came to a stop before a massive door engraved with blue roses.

The maids of the ducal residence spotted Isabella and bowed at the waist.

Butler Delis also bowed his head toward her.

“My lady.”

“And Anne?”

“The physician just left. Fortunately, her injuries are minor. He said she’ll be fine after resting for a few days.”

Isabella let out a relieved sigh at Delis’s report.

The moment she had heard that Jeanne’s younger sister, Anne, had been badly mistreated by Viscount Tyrone’s daughter, she had hurried back.

“That’s a relief. Delis, please tell Jeanne. She’s very worried about Anne.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And Tisha?”

Isabella asked about the whereabouts of Tisha, Viscount Tyrone’s daughter and the person responsible for this incident.

It was not the first time Tisha had appeared out of nowhere and harassed the servants of the ducal household for no reason.

“She returned to the viscount’s residence before you arrived, my lady.”

“Ha…”

There was no need to ask who had spirited Tisha away to her home.

“Then Viscount Tyrone is the only one inside?”

At the end of the first-floor corridor stood a drawing room primarily used by the previous duke.

It had traditionally been called the duke’s sanctuary.

And someone had brazenly occupied it without the owner’s permission.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

Isabella looked at the dark shadow cast over Delis’s face.

He was consumed by guilt.

The strands of gray in his hair were clearly visible beneath the chandelier’s light.

He had protected the Brwin family alongside Isabella’s father for as many years as it had taken his dark gray hair to turn white.

“Why is the butler apologizing? The fault lies with those shameless people who have no manners or decency and covet what belongs to others. Open the door.”

At the butler’s signal, the servants opened the door.

Inside, Viscount Roster Tyrone was sitting on the leather sofa arranged in a U-shape in the center of the spacious drawing room, leaning back as though he were the master of the house.

Viscount Tyrone had served as Isabella’s guardian for the past fifteen years in place of her parents, who had died in an unfortunate accident.

The moment he spotted Isabella, he put on a benevolent smile.

“Oh! Bella. Come here!”

Shamelessly, he casually used the unwanted nickname he had given her.

“It’s been a long time, Viscount.”

As always, Isabella’s greeting was perfectly proper and impeccably mannered.

And, as always, her attitude was not to the viscount’s liking.

“Oh, come now. You’re doing that again. I’ve told you not to keep your distance.”

His smile remained gentle.

“Bella, haven’t I always told you? You’re practically like my own daughter.”

His words and endlessly affectionate expression made him look, to an outsider, as though he were gazing at a daughter he genuinely loved.

Daughter?

The very thought sent a chill down Isabella’s spine.

She immediately drew a clear line between them.

“There are proper rules of conduct. There are also many eyes and ears watching and listening.”

At that, Viscount Tyrone slowly turned his head and looked around the drawing room.

“Eyes and ears watching and listening?”

The gentle curve of his eyes suddenly sharpened, and a cold glint flashed in them.

“Who would dare run their mouth carelessly?”

At the viscount’s icy tone, the servants waiting in the drawing room flinched.

They hurriedly lowered their heads and shifted their eyes away from his gaze.

It seemed he had remembered that, only moments earlier, his daughter had thrown a fit and mistreated Anne, Jeanne’s younger sister, simply because she had been in a bad mood.

Since the incident had occurred while Isabella, the owner of the estate, was away, there had been no one to stop her.

Viscount Tyrone had been there.

But he had merely turned his body slightly away and stepped back, watching without intervening.

“Don’t tell me someone has been filling your head with nonsense again?”

It was almost laughable hearing the man who was the greatest source of nonsense himself say such a thing.

Watching him put on such a shameless act, Isabella felt her stomach churn.

Meanwhile, Viscount Tyrone clicked his tongue and continued.

“Tsk. It seems the people around you are inadequate after all.”

He spoke as though genuinely concerned.

“I’ll send Madam Bird over soon. She’ll be able to properly select people who can be of help to you.”

Sending Madam Bird, one of his own people, meant nothing less than placing Isabella under surveillance and tightening his control over her.

Isabella stared directly at the face of the man who looked so sincerely concerned.