Translator: Nox

Chapter 55

A chorus of rowdy laughter broke the silence.

“Hey there, Tulia!”

Tedrick’s voice boomed as he strutted forward, acting the part of the ringleader for the cluster of young aristocrats trailing behind him.

“Remember that little wager we discussed? I think it’s time we settled it.”

---

Tedrick Frazier was the supposed golden boy of the Frazier lands, a scholar who had consistently secured the top marks from the scholars of the White Ivory Tower Pneuma.

That was the case until Tulia arrived and seized that glory for herself.

Tedrick Frazier was a man who took immense pride in wearing the Glory—the sacred emblem of the direct bloodline—around his throat.

That was the case until Tulia stripped him of that right as well.

Tedrick Frazier…

He had always enjoyed the adoration of the other young nobles within the Grand Duchy.

For the moment, at least.

Tedrick could feel it in his bones. He was plagued by a gnawing certainty that Tulia would eventually dismantle his social standing just as she had destroyed everything else. If total ruin was inevitable, he was determined to drag her through the mud first.

“You haven’t forgotten your little speech, have you?” he sneered. “The one where you claimed every noble ranked lower than a Marquis was nothing more than pathetic trash?”

---

“He’s right. You said exactly that during Lady Loras’s gathering,” one of them chimed in.

“The young lady couldn’t even handle a single serving of sherry,” another added with a mocking grin. “The hostess had to physically restrain her, she was so far gone.”

“It was quite the spectacle. She was screaming at the top of her lungs in the middle of the ballroom because someone tried to help her.”

“Apparently, we’re all just redundant human beings now. Though, I suppose she wasn’t entirely wrong.”

“Well, she is the daughter of a Marquis, after all. She’s far above us.”

A sharp, whispered comment cut through the chatter. “Assuming she actually carries the Marquis’s blood in those veins.”

The sheer level of animosity in the air was suffocating. I felt a cold drop of sweat slide down my back.

Tulia, you absolute lunatic. When did you find the time to pull a stunt like this?

Actually, the timing didn’t even matter.

Why on earth would you say such things?

Tedrick’s laughter sounded predatory. The group of nobles he had gathered watched me with eyes like chips of ice. It was painfully obvious why they were so eager to follow his lead; they were looking at Tulia with pure, unadulterated loathing.

Playing the villain is harder than it looks.

To think she had gone out of her way to provoke every person in sight, despite having zero supporters within the Grand Duchy. It was staggering.

Tulia Frazier didn’t just have nerves of steel. At this point, it was more accurate to say her heart was forged from diamond. To hurl such venomous insults in a den of enemies required a level of mental fortitude—or perhaps insanity—that was beyond the average person. It was no mystery how she had earned her reputation as the Grand Duchy’s resident disaster.

Fine.

I understood now. She had to be this insufferable to play the role of the ultimate antagonist in the original story.

But why am I the one who has to face the consequences of her big mouth?

---

To Tedrick’s amusement, Tulia appeared momentarily stunned.

Of course she is. She was blacked out when it happened.

It was nearly impossible for someone to get that incapacitated from a single glass of sherry, regardless of their age. The truth was that Tedrick and his friends had tampered with her drink as a joke. They had spiked the wine with a potent spirit, and the girl had drained the glass before she knew what hit her.

Watching her stumble had been hilarious, but when they started mocking her, Tulia had flown into a blind rage. She had screamed insults at everyone, declaring that any noble child who wasn’t at least the offspring of a Marquis was beneath her notice.

Tedrick had been offended at the time, but the fallout had played perfectly into his hands. Because she had caused such a public scene at a high-society event, she had been locked away under house arrest.

You should have stayed in that Randel Warehouse until you turned to ice, Tedrick thought, his external smile hiding the way he ground his teeth in fury.

He absentmindedly toyed with the bow in his grip. He could almost see the gears turning in Tulia’s head as she looked for a way out. Would she try to apologize? Would she make up an excuse? He almost hoped she would; it would make breaking her spirit that much more satisfying.

He tapped the polished wood of his weapon and raised his voice so everyone could hear.

“Being such a refined, high-born daughter of a Marquis, I assume you’ll keep your cool? You wouldn’t want to lose your dignity.”

It was a common belief among the elite that true nobility was defined by an unshakable composure, no matter the circumstances.

“You tried to tell Grandfather that you only caused that scene because you were drunk and didn’t know what you were saying, didn’t you?”

Tedrick’s laugh was echoed by the surrounding nobles. They were his puppets, moving and mocking exactly as he signaled. The contrast was stark—Tulia stood entirely alone.

The rules of the hunt meant most of the adults had already ventured into the thickets to track larger prey. Lisian was among them, occupying his rightful place as the future Marquis. Tedrick had waited specifically for Lisian to leave before making his move.

And Leon is nowhere to be found either.

The castle staff had whispered that Leon Frazier still harbored a deep resentment toward his sister. With no one left to protect her, the timing was flawless.

“Tedrick Frazier,” Tulia finally spoke.

“Yes?”

“Stop the theatrics and tell me what you want.”

Her stubborn refusal to look intimidated was infuriating. Even more irritating was the fact that she looked stunning. Even when she had lived in squalor, her beauty had been enough to leave young men breathless. Now, with her voice clear and melodic, he noticed a few of the boys behind him shifting uncomfortably.

Tedrick doubled down before the mood could shift. “What I want? I want to settle the bet. Right now.”

“Then remind me of the terms.”

“You’ve forgotten?” Tedrick’s smile turned sharp and predatory. “You claimed that we were all just insects to you. And you said that the arrows of an insect wouldn’t even make you blink.”

You have to be kidding me, Tulia. Did you really say that?

I knew the answer. It sounded exactly like something she would do. But now I was the one staring down the barrel of her karma.

The large bow, wrapped in expensive leather, glinted ominously in the sun. He actually intended to shoot at me. My stomach did a slow, sickening flip.

Wait.

I looked closer at the weapon. It wasn’t like any bow I had seen in my previous life.

Why are there three arrows notched at once? And what is that glow in the center?

Ancient Language?

My eyes widened. Tedrick noticed my stare and shook the bow triumphantly.

“A gift from my father. It’s a magical artifact that fires three shots with a single pull of the string.”

“…And?”

“And you said you weren’t afraid, didn’t you?” Tedrick’s expression was one of pure cruelty.

---

In the Briyang Empire, the law of the land strictly categorized the nobility into five tiers: Duke, Marquis, Count, Viscount, and Baron. The Grand Ducal House sat above them all, a power so vast it functioned like a sovereign state within the empire.

“Everyone below a Marquis—the Counts, the Viscounts, the Barons. I’ll leave out the minor knights and honorary titles, or we’d be here all day,” Tedrick sneered.

He was throwing her own words back at her. Tulia had hit him exactly where it hurt most. During their drunken confrontation, she must have goaded him.

“Why should I care? Even if people like you come at me with blades and bows, I wouldn’t feel a thing.”

“Go ahead, take a shot. Do you think I’m as weak as you? If I stand my ground, you’ll have to crawl at my feet like the bug you are. Or are you too much of a coward to challenge a Marquis’s daughter?”

“We don’t exactly share the same quality of blood, do we?”

She wouldn’t have said it unprovoked. Tedrick likely threatened her first, telling her that a Marquis’s daughter bleeds just as easily as anyone else, and the situation had spiraled from there.

Great.

“How many shots are we talking about?” I asked.

Tedrick’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. He wasn’t expecting me to be so blunt. Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—I was used to being threatened.

In my life as Han Ina, my own family used to intimidate me like this.

I knew from experience that showing fear was a death sentence. To survive, I had to project an aura of total indifference. I had to look like I didn’t care if I lived or died.

But Tedrick wasn’t easily deterred.

“Let’s say twenty arrows. A nice, noble number, don’t you think?”

“Then we need a new agreement,” I said.

“What?”

“If I don’t move,” I stated, locking eyes with him and making sure every syllable carried weight, “if I don’t retreat even a single inch from this spot, then it becomes my turn to take the bow.”