TVSP 23🍂

Chapter 23

“But you dismissed my father, saying you had no use for a knight who wasn’t whole. My father… he was a man who took pride in nothing more than being a knight. Even when he was injured, even when he suffered, even when it wore him down—he cherished the honor of protecting others! And you, you not only took away his leg, you stole from him the one thing that was his entire world—his knighthood!”

Lize could no longer hold back the flood of emotions. Tears streamed down her face.

“Do you remember what I begged of you, on my knees?”

Even in the throes of overwhelming grief, Lize White did not stop her desperate plea.

“By the look on your face, you don’t. Then let me remind you. I begged you to at least grant my father an honorary position. So he wouldn’t regret throwing himself in front of danger for you. So he could still be proud. So he could endure the pain that came to him!”

Her trembling voice overflowed with despair and bitter resentment.

“But you refused. Do you remember what you said?”

That scene stood out in my memory, unlike the accident earlier.

“Why should I?”

“Yes, that’s right. That’s what you said. ‘Why should I? It’s none of my concern.’ You told me it was my father’s own fault for failing to temper his body!”

She wiped her tears with her sleeve and cried out for all to hear:

“This is someone who, no matter how young she was, never understood the value of life! Do you really believe such a person deserves to become a Saint?”

Her words were like a raw scream, nurtured for years in silence.

The people’s eyes wavered. The carefully built image I had woven was collapsing piece by piece. I opened my lips to twist the situation back in my favor—

But I could not.

For the moment I met those clear blue eyes watching me from afar, I could not bring myself to lie.

When Lize’s plea ended, my reputation was already in ruins.

As she left, the others only stared at me in disbelief.

When I offered no defense, they took my silence as confession and gradually drifted away.

Even the priests left me. I was alone in the tent when Mila approached.

“I must admit, I was shocked to hear that story from Lady Lize. I thought perhaps it was a misunderstanding when I brought the two of you together…”

Her words feigned regret, but her expression betrayed her inner thought—‘So it’s true, after all.’

“Even Sir Leandros was disappointed enough to walk away. And that man has such a steadfast heart—if he has turned from you, it may be impossible to win him back.”

She drew her brows in sympathy, as if to say she pitied me. It was unbearably irritating.

“I only hope, my lady, that this teaches you a lesson—that your actions follow you wherever you go. Life cannot be bought with money. And… please don’t lose your composure and behave foolishly.”

Her words dragged forth the memory of my very first death.

“I hope Lady Grace goes mad with grief, just as I did. No—lose your reason! Go insane!”

“To lose your reason in sorrow—how foolish.”

That curse she had hurled at me in her betrayal… I had flung those very words back at her like a blade.

I stared hard at Mila.

The twisted face of betrayal was gone, replaced with the faint thrill of vengeance accomplished. She tried to wear composure, but her emotions were still far too unpracticed to hide.

“Too late for regret now, isn’t it?”

At last, I understood the strange familiarity and dissonance I’d always felt around her.

“Your karma has come back around—ah!”

I strode toward her, driving her back against the wall. Her scream went ignored. I slammed my hand against the wall beside her face, boxing her in.

Caught between the wall and me, Mila lowered her gaze.

“Lady Nephur.”

“Y-yes?”

“Mila Nephur.”

“W-why do you keep saying my—”

“Mila.”

Her shoulders jerked violently.

The reaction was all too familiar. I pressed on, certain now.

“To lose your reason in sorrow—how foolish.”

The very words I had spoken before my first death, the moment that hurled me into despair.

Her face went pale as parchment.

“H-how, how do you know…? C-could it be—”

Her teeth chattered in fear. It was unmistakably her.

Yes. It was the same Mila who once called me her friend.

If she weren’t, she would’ve already lashed out at me, denied me, demanded sense. Instead, her silence confirmed it all.

“Ha… haha. Hahahaha!”

I burst into laughter, uncontrollable. The louder I laughed, the more wretched Mila’s face became.

But I was not laughing from joy. I was seething, ready to spit curses.

That familiar unease I felt whenever I looked at her… it was because she had mimicked me.

The girl who once said she wanted to be like me had now become so skilled at imitation that I failed to notice. That was my mistake.

‘No… not entirely.’

Because now I finally knew why she despised me so.

‘Of course she hated me becoming a Saint candidate. She once betrayed me—she must’ve thought I’d try to steal the relic again.’

But knowing did not mean forgiving.

“Was it fun, pretending to be me?”

“N-no! I wasn’t pretending—”

Her denial meant nothing. She squeezed her eyes shut, trembling like a cornered mouse.

“Was it really so unbearable to see me as a Saint?”

She forgot to act now, caught in the truth.

“W-well, yes—”

Still as tactless as ever.

‘Finally… that’s the Mila I remember.’

It was as if one or two tangled threads of a knotted skein had come loose.

The reason was clear now, but my mood had not improved one bit.

“You’ve played quite the amusing game, Mila. Don’t you think?”

At my words, she opened her eyes wide and glared back at me.

“It wouldn’t have happened if you had behaved properly! Don’t you pity Lady Lize? Of course not—you’ve never cared, because that’s who you are!”

For once, she struck at the core, words tumbling out as if she’d been waiting years to say them.

“Your charity in the slums was nothing but hypocrisy! No matter how many good deeds you do now, it won’t erase the wrongs you’ve committed. Who could believe it? Not me!”

I stared.

“Not even I can believe you!”

“…And who are you, to judge me?”

The sharp retort struck her dumb, shock flickering across her face.

Her wide, wet eyes dragged me back to the memory of when she stole the relic, and my mood plummeted.

Whatever she wanted to say, I had no patience to hear it.

“Haa… what use is talking to you? Just stay out of my way from now on.”

The irritation clawed up my chest, impossible to suppress.

Sensing it, Mila shouted, her face flushed with anger.

“If you died such a terrible death, shouldn’t you have learned something from it?!”

“…What?”

“When you came back to life, did it never occur to you that this curse was punishment for coveting the relic? Did you never once think, ‘I’ll repent, I’ll live differently this time’? You never regretted anything?!”

I fell silent, listening.

Perhaps she thought I was giving her the courtesy of being heard, but the truth was different.

“If you died tragically in that carriage accident, shouldn’t you have understood something? Don’t you see—that’s why the gods gave you this chance?”

A chilling thought struck me.

Perhaps Mila’s regressions were not like mine.

I had repeated this cycle ten times already.

And though I had never truly repented, each time I chose a different path. Sometimes I spread scandal in the temple and forced the nobles’ hand. Sometimes I flaunted only good deeds. Sometimes, worn down, I simply ran.

If Mila had watched me through all that, she could not possibly know only of my first death.

And yet…

‘She speaks as if she knows only about my first death… doesn’t she?’