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Chapter 22
The envelopes rained down over my head with a rustling thud.
The marquis dumped them out mercilessly, and one sharp-edged envelope grazed my face as it flew past. A burning sensation spread across my temple. It had definitely cut me.
“All of these arrived this morning.”
The marquis spoke coldly to me. Behind him, the head maid Gemma watched me with an expression that practically screamed serves you right.
“Everyone saw that ridiculous extra edition and contacted me. They all assumed I was the one who distributed it.”
What kind of idiots were they? Did they not understand the personality of Marquis Bartoli at all?
The marquis hurled another envelope at my face. It was clearly intentional, and it scraped across my cheek, leaving behind a red line. This time I could feel blood trickling down. It stung hotly.
The heavy envelope thrown at me bore the imperial seal.
And soon enough, I confirmed my suspicion.
“Even the imperial family contacted me. They called me… a doting fool.”
Ha. They might as well have said that the god Billik was a lovestruck fool who only had eyes for Jenute.
Then I finally understood why the marquis was in such a foul mood. Being mistaken for a doting father had offended him deeply.
People believed he dearly loved a daughter as worthless as me. To him, it must have felt like mockery of his judgment—especially when he had his second and third daughters.
That was the kind of man he was.
“Even so, I intended to let this pass quietly. I thought if you reflected on your actions while fasting in your room for a week, even you might regain a little sense.”
“……”
“But then you disobey me after not even enduring one day? Just how hopeless are you trying to become?!”
I’m not hopeless.
You are.
More than anything, the fact that Owen was witnessing all this humiliation made me miserable.
He had told me I deserved to possess the greatest man in the world.
He had knelt before me while I was still in my nightclothes and asked me to tame him.
Suddenly, a question crossed my mind.
Why am I enduring this humiliation?
What right did the marquis have to speak to me like this?
I was no longer the powerless twenty-one-year-old Sophia.
Well, technically I still was twenty-one now, but before my regression I had been a woman who survived countless hardships and nearly succeeded in rebellion—a woman called the Iron Lady Bartoli.
Just because I had returned to the past didn’t mean the experiences I’d lived through had disappeared. Proof of that was my riding skills, my embroidery, even my silver tongue—all sharpened through my previous life.
I abruptly lifted my head.
The marquis, unaware of anything, looked at me as though I were vermin.
“I don’t know how you managed to commit something this pathetic, but I’ll cover it up by saying I was the one responsible. Your house arrest and food deprivation are extended for another week.”
“No. Don’t do that.”
“…What?”
A firm voice escaped my lips.
This was the first time, across both my current and previous life, that I had ever openly defied my father.
Once I started speaking, the next words came much easier. I wasn’t alone. I could hear the cheers of my former self echoing from beyond time itself as I spoke again.
“I said don’t pretend it was your doing. I don’t like it either. Why are you stealing credit for something someone else did? Like some street thug or common thief.”
“What?!”
“That was done by someone who genuinely cherishes me. Not by some hypocrite like you who beats and starves me while pretending to be a good person outside the house.”
The marquis looked moments away from clutching the back of his neck in outrage.
“Y-you—!”
Gemma stepped forward, but I didn’t even spare her a glance.
Still staring directly at the marquis, I clenched my fists and sneered.
“If you hate the misunderstanding that much, should I distribute another extra edition saying, [The previous edition was not distributed by Marquis Bartoli]? Then no one will misunderstand anymore. What do you think?”
At that moment, rage blazed in my father’s eyes. The marquis suddenly raised his hand.
Sensing the incoming slap, I widened my eyes.
It was an attack I had fully anticipated. I probably could have dodged it.
But strangely, my body wouldn’t move.
Fine. Let him hit me once and get it over with. I already opened my mouth knowing I might sever ties forever.
My father’s hand flew toward me, hard enough to split my lip—
—and stopped right near the doorway.
A large hand had emerged from behind the door and seized his wrist.
Me, my father, and Gemma all stared wide-eyed.
A moment later, a man stepped out from behind the door.
The Grand Duke—formerly Duke Glentino’s heir—still firmly gripping the marquis’s wrist with one hand.
My mouth fell open.
Owen was much taller than the marquis. Naturally, he was younger too. But more than that, he carried an overwhelmingly oppressive aura.
The man who usually lounged around making ridiculous jokes with me now looked like someone capable of forcing another person to their knees at any moment.
Maybe it was because his expression had hardened coldly.
Or maybe it was because veins bulged along the fist clenched at his side.
The marquis recognized the unexpected intruder in his house.
“Lord Glentino? How did you—”
“You’re behind on the news. I’m a grand duke now. Forgive my rudeness upon our first meeting, Father-in-law, but there seems to be a bug on your cheek, so let me get rid of it.”
Then Owen swung his free hand powerfully.
“Ghk!”
My father’s face twisted grotesquely as he was sent flying and crashed pitifully onto the floor.
Wow. That must have hurt. About how much? Imagine taking all the pain I’d suffered from being hit, kneading it together into a cucumber, then having a skilled chef slice it into paper-thin pieces. One of those slices.
Head maid Gemma had already retreated far away. The marquis staggered to his feet and shouted.
“A bug…?! What nonsense is this—!”
“There really was one. It’s still stuck to your face now. It’s called ‘idiot.’”
I nearly burst out laughing.
Why was this man cracking jokes even at a moment like this?!
But Owen continued with deadly seriousness.
“I’m saying this because Father-in-law is far too oblivious.”
“What?”
“So many letters arrived, yet not a single one came from House Glentino. We were nearly engaged families. Don’t you wonder why?”
The marquis fell silent. Apparently he had never considered that.
With a cold smile, Owen supplied the answer himself.
“Because I already knew you weren’t the one who distributed the extra edition. Wouldn’t it be shameful to steal someone else’s work like a street thug or common thief? Though I never expected…”
Owen gently wrapped an arm around my back and pulled me closer.
“…that the woman I love would end up in trouble because of it.”
“Ah…”
Whether the marquis gasped or not, I couldn’t think straight after hearing those words.
Thump. Thump.
My heart pounded wildly.
Did this man just call me the woman he loves?
…No way.
No matter how strangely compatible we were, Owen and I had only properly met and interacted a few days ago. There was no reason for him to already feel something like love.
He was probably just acting in front of my father.
Thinking that, I desperately tried to calm myself and ignore the arm wrapped around my waist.
But the marquis wasn’t defeated yet. He quickly regained his composure and shouted,
“No matter if you’re a grand duke, you have no right to interfere in another family’s discipline! And violence on top of that? I’ll lodge a formal complaint between our houses!”
“Why am I an outsider?”
“What?”
“Didn’t I just call you Father-in-law?”
With that, Owen took my left hand and lifted it beside my face.
On my ring finger glittered an enormous pink diamond ring.
Even seeing it again, the size was absurd. The marquis narrowed his eyes in disbelief.
“Sophia and I promised to marry yesterday. I won’t stand by and watch someone strike the woman who will soon become my wife.”
“H-how…!”
Actually, we hadn’t formally promised marriage yet. But this was probably just part of his act too.
My father whipped his head toward me.
“You’ve completely lost your mind! Your fiancé hasn’t even been dead that long, and you already accepted another proposal? Without your father’s permission?!”
I knew he’d say that.
Triumphantly, I replied,
“Every citizen of the Empire may choose their own marriage partner after turning twenty-one, Father. Even without a guardian’s consent.”
Of course, noble marriages usually involved formal proposals between families, but it wasn’t absolutely required.
“And yesterday, I celebrated my twenty-first birthday. Though I suppose you didn’t even know which birthday it was.”
“Hah! So you intend to marry like common trash? Without etiquette or proper procedure?”
“When have I ever not been trash in your eyes, Father? If it angers you so much, then disown me. And don’t bother attending my wedding.”
After saying that, I sharply turned away.
Across both my past and current lives, this was the first time I had ever shown my back to my father.
And it was also the first time he could do nothing but stare at me in silence.
