SWRD 11

Chapter 11

‘Seriously? How long has it even been since we broke up, and we’re bumping into each other again?’

I stood frozen, unwilling to believe in this ridiculously persistent coincidence.

Killid didn’t say anything either—maybe he was just as shocked. I glanced up at him, then looked away with a sigh.

“Stop following me.”

“What?”

“I’m really tired of this.”

“…You’re still drunk. You’re clearly not in your right mind.”

Killid’s voice dropped, and I had to suppress a laugh.

Looks like I got under his skin. Well, we’ve exchanged greetings (?), so I should probably just walk away.

But before I could take a step, Killid spoke.

“What did you talk about with my father?”

Huh…?

“That’s none of your business.”

At my response, Killid’s eyebrow twitched. What a fast reaction.

‘Why do I keep provoking him?’

Is teasing Killid… actually fun?

Maybe… a little?

As I realized what I was doing, I grew confused. I had literally just made up my mind to stay away from Killid—he’s someone who could very well kill me if provoked.

Yet here I was, talking to him again.

Sure, I hadn’t intended to run into him. But I didn’t have to engage—I could’ve just ignored him and walked away.

‘Wait, could it be that…’

…Killid makes me feel at ease?

I widened my eyes and examined him carefully.

Him? Why?

Killid let me stare at him without saying anything, then opened his mouth.

“Move.”

Ah. Right.

I’d been blocking the door to the Duke’s office.

So Killid must have some business with the Duke. That much was obvious.

I stepped aside without resistance—then hesitated as I looked at his tall, muscular build.

As I gazed up at him, his brows furrowed.

“What now?”

“You’re in good shape, right?”

“….”

“How does one build stamina?”

Killid didn’t answer right away, but his gaze on me became more intense.

Curious why I’m asking that? Not telling.

After a brief silence, he spoke.

“Stamina?”

“I’d appreciate it if you told me the fastest way to build it.”

“And why should I tell you that?”

“Because if you answer, I’ll move out of your way.”

I stood like a gatekeeper, lifting my chin.

I knew Killid wouldn’t use force to get me out of the way. In the original story, he always lashed out at Bella with words, never violence.

After all, Killid Craford was written by the author of My Fake Daughter as someone who never used force on the weak—except criminals.

He didn’t seem pleased with my demand, but just as I expected, he gave me an answer.

“Quit drinking.”

…Didn’t expect that.

“Drinking?”

“If you keep sneaking into the wine cellar, no matter what you do, your stamina won’t improve.”

What? Was that… genuine advice?

Then Killid curled one corner of his lip into a faint smirk. And I realized it.

‘He’s throwing my own words from yesterday back at me!’

My jaw dropped at this childish move. Does he carry grudges instead of a shadow?

‘Okay… that’s enough.’

Why didn’t I consider that he might give a useless answer?

I admitted defeat. No way Killid would give me helpful advice when I was the one pestering him for it.

Without another word, I started walking. I stepped away from the door and passed him—but just then—

“Run.”

I stopped and turned around. Killid wasn’t looking at me—he had placed a hand on the office door.

…Was I hearing things?

But then, as he opened the office door, he added:

“That’s the fastest way.”

The large, ornate office doors slowly closed behind him. I stood in the corridor, staring at them for a moment.

There was a time when a popular reality show about dieting aired in the hospital room.

It featured contestants who all had different reasons to lose weight and a professional trainer who guided them.

The contestants ran themselves into the ground on treadmills while the sculpted trainer shouted beside them:

‘Run! Keep running! Don’t stop! You can do it! Overcome your limits with sheer willpower!’

Don’t be defeated by yourself…

His voice faded in my memory.

I collapsed to my knees. No, I wasn’t turning myself in. As if.

‘I seriously can’t run anymore.’

Panting on my knees, I eventually flopped sideways.

Didn’t care about the location or who was watching. More accurately, I didn’t have the energy to care.

I lay flat on my back, gasping at the sky. The sun was blinding, so I closed my eyes.

“Don’t be defeated by yourself… That’s nice and all, but this isn’t even a fair fight…”

Half a lap around the training ground.

That’s how far Bella managed to run, squeezing out every last drop of strength.

Why did I say Bella and not me?

Because the body lying here, barely alive after just half a lap, is Bella’s body!

‘Even Princess Anne was in better shape than this… barely, but still.’

God, I’m dying here.

‘I need at least average stamina if I want to escape…’

Escape.

Yes.

I ditched the idea of surrender and made a new plan—run away.

Well, not so new. From the beginning, I’d considered both surrendering and running.

And between the two… I’d chosen surrender. At the time, I didn’t know it was the wrong choice.

‘But I can still fix it. I’ll escape before Elisa returns. Find a safe place and settle there.’

And from there…

“I’m going to find out.”

“Find out what?”

Startled, I opened my eyes wide. Sunlight hit me hard. I frowned, but then a shadow fell over my face.

A graceful hand was blocking the sun. Ethan’s soft voice followed.

“What are you trying to find out?”

“…”

“Elly.”

…Why was Ethan here?

I swallowed hard and opened my mouth.

“What brings you here, Brother?”

Only then did I notice what he was wearing. I thought maybe he came to train, but he was dressed in his usual office attire.

Didn’t even unbutton a single shirt button—clearly not here to move around.

Then he answered.

“I was passing by when someone told me you were at the training ground.”

“…”

“You always hated this place. Said it was dusty and smelled of sweat.”

Wow… That’s exactly the kind of thing villainess Bella would say.

“But since you’re here, I figured something must’ve happened. Plus, I have something to say to you.”

“…Something to say?”

“I made a mistake yesterday.”

“…”

“Are you mad at me?”

Would I be?

No. What I felt toward Ethan was discomfort. Maybe… even fear. But I couldn’t say that.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before answering.

“Why would I be mad at you? I know you love and care for me.”

“…”

“Right?”

“Of course, Elly.”

He replied with the same gentleness he’d used to block the sun.

“You’re my precious little sister. Always.”

…It’s strange. The words were warm, but why did they give me chills? It wasn’t even cold.

“I’ll go. Do whatever you want—just don’t overdo it.”

“…Okay.”

As soon as I answered, the hand blocking the sun disappeared. I closed my eyes again and waited for the sound of his footsteps to fade.

A moment later, I stood up and looked around. Ethan’s back was already growing distant.

I recalled his words:

‘You’re my precious little sister. Always.’

Hmm…

So basically…

‘Don’t even think about stepping out of your “little sister” role.’

…Is that what he meant?

‘Time to run. As fast as I can.’

Dragging my shaking legs, I started jogging around the edge of the training field again.

I looked out the window. The view was beautiful.

As I took in the sunlight-drenched scenery, I spoke.

“Killid wasn’t lying.”