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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: A Hundred Years Too Soon
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“Oh, no...!”
Flustered, Mark clutched his stinging cheek and glanced around.
“I-I didn't do it on purpose! I just happened to push her!”
“And if I said I jusht happened to send my fisht flying into your face, would you accept that?”
“What are you talking about! That's different!”
“To me, it'sh the shame.”
Daphne retorted, raising her clenched fist. Looking like she was about to strike again, Mark hastily backed away.
“You coward, attacking me by surprise!”
He shouted, pretending not to see the sharp glare from his father, Duke Brown, whose eyes met his.
“Didn't you say you were a swordswoman?”
Mark drew the wooden sword from his waist and pointed it at Daphne.
“If you're a swordswoman, shouldn't you fight with a sword? It would be more honorable than this pathetic brawling. Oh, right, you're a ruffian and a liar, so you probably don't know the first thing about honor, do you?”
His words were intentionally crafted to provoke her.
It was only natural.
Mark had deliberately picked a fight with Daphne under Duke Brown's orders.
Duke Brown was displeased with the gossip about Daphne spreading through the capital. He believed the Archducal House, which seemed to have lost the Emperor's favor, was resorting to crude tricks.
So he had ordered his admirable son, Mark, who had just become an Apprentice Guardian, to provoke Daphne. And if a fight broke out, he was to cross swords with her.
Daphne, wrapped in false rumors, was surely a ruffian who had never properly held a sword, while Mark was a talented individual gifted enough to become an Apprentice Guardian at a young age. The outcome seemed obvious.
Daphne's lack of skill would soon be exposed. And the rumors about her would turn into a scandal that would tighten the noose around their necks.
Since Mark also held a grudge from being beaten by Daphne before, the father and son had diligently formulated and executed their plan.
“Apologize now, and I'll let it slide this once. But if you refuse to back down, I'll fight you with everything I've got.”
At Mark's jeering words, Daphne narrowed her eyes.
Whether he had been beaten by this body before or not, Mark Brown was of no concern to the current Daphne. But pushing Brysa was another matter.
Who was Brysa? Was she not the one who had first uttered the words 'the great Lady Daphne'—words Daphne hadn't heard since possessing this body? Her number one competent subordinate, who had already recognized her greatness!
And he dared to shove such a subordinate...! Daphne had no intention of letting Mark off easy.
“I really don't undershtand what you're thinking.”
Daphne let out a sigh and tilted her head up.
“It'sh sho painfully obvious you're going to get beaten unconscious by me, yet I don't know why you disrespec' yourshelf sho much. How shtupid and dull. Utterly pitiful.”
“You, you...!”
Mark gripped the wooden sword tightly.
“You must still think of me as the person I used to be, but I'm an Apprentice Guardian now! I've risen to a position someone like you could never hope to challenge!”
His words didn't seem to be a lie; Mark's stance as he held the sword was quite good. Given the difference in their builds, it was hard to imagine a scenario where Daphne could win.
“Hurry up and draw your sword! I'm going to teach you a lesson!”
“Don't be ridiculous, boy.”
But Daphne was perfectly composed.
“I don't need a shword to deal with the likes of you.”
“Gah! Fine! Don't come crying to me after you get hit!”
Finally, enraged, Mark charged forward. In truth, attacking an opponent who wasn't holding a sword—in other words, an unarmed opponent—was a gross violation of chivalry.
However, the nobles gathered around were too eager to see Daphne's skills to stop Mark in time, and those who weren't were too intimidated by the prestige of the Ducal House of Brown to intervene. As a result, the tip of Mark's sword reached Daphne first.
“Die!”
*Oh dear!*
Those who had missed the beat naturally expected Daphne to be sent flying. Some ladies even squeezed their eyes shut. And the Marchioness wondered how on earth she was going to handle this situation.
But,
“...Huh?”
an astonishing sight unfolded.
With a simple turn of her shoulder, Daphne had dodged Mark's attack!
“Is that all?”
Daphne smirked, looking down at Mark from an angle. Mark's face turned as red as a beet.
“Not yet! I won't go easy on you!”
Mark swung his sword wide again. The blade cut through the air in a semicircle, heading straight for her heart. Befitting his title of Apprentice Guardian, Mark's swordsmanship was efficient and powerful.
Unfortunately for him, his opponent was Daphne.
*Whoosh!*
Daphne, who had somehow wrapped handkerchiefs around both hands, pulled them taut to block the blow. Then, crossing her hands, she enveloped the sword and used the momentum to throw Mark over her shoulder.
“You're a hundred years too early to touch me, you lowly brat.”
*Thud!*
Mark, his vision suddenly flipped upside down, was completely dumbfounded.
*I'm four years older than her, I'm an Apprentice Guardian, I've always been praised for my swordsmanship... and yet I was thrown by that frail-looking Daphne without even landing a single blow.*
“Impossible.”
Daphne looked down at the dazed Mark and tilted her head.
“What'sh imposshible is you, shoving a little girl and not even apologizing.”
In other words, she hadn't fought Mark simply because she was in a bad mood, but under the pretext of avenging Brysa's humiliation.
*Good heavens.*
The nobles, who had been watching the fight with bated breath, let out a collective gasp.
“Did... Lady Daphne just take down Lord Mark, the Apprentice Guardian, in a single move?”
“Even though she's so, so frail...”
The people's eyes widened in amazement.
“The rumors were true!”
“The guild master wasn't lying!”
“What did I tell you? Didn't I say it might be true?”
One by one, they began to applaud, celebrating Daphne's victory.
But Daphne ignored their cheers and walked toward a certain spot—toward the stunned Brysa.
“Are you hurt?”
“...Pardon?”
“I asked if you were hurt.”
“N-No! I-I'm fine! Thank you for your concern!”
Brysa felt a warmth spread through her chest, her cheeks flushing.
She had been so scared of Daphne, thinking of her as a ruffian lady, unable to even meet her gaze. But Daphne was paying attention to her, looking out for her. What a magnificent person she was!
*Maybe all the rumors about Daphne were made up. There's no way someone as warm and kind as Lady Daphne could be a ruffian!* Brysa's eyes sparkled.
“If you're alright, then go and bring the tea and shweets now.”
“Pardon?”
“You shaid you were going to get them earlier.”
“Ah.”
*Surely she didn't help me just for the refreshments...?* Brysa suppressed the budding suspicion and quickly turned away.
*'Hmm.'*
Daphne crossed her arms and tilted her head. She could feel gazes following her every move. It wasn't pleasant.
*'Being a popular dragon is tiring.'*
Tsking, Daphne walked past the smiling onlookers toward the balcony. Though no one was approaching her at the moment, she had a feeling that if she stayed there, she'd somehow get dragged into something unpleasant.
*'This must be what they call a wild instinct.'*
Stepping out onto the balcony, Daphne checked that no one was around before taking a deep breath. She was slightly out of breath from the rather vigorous movements just now. A tickle in her throat told her she wasn't in the best condition.
“Ugh, this blasted body. When is it ever going to get better?”
“Still, it is getting better, isn't it? Slowly.”
“That may be shwo, but I want it to get better fasht... Who are you!”
Daphne's eyes went wide as she whipped her head around. The person she saw was a man clearly etched in her memory.
“You, you! You bastard!”
“It's been a while, Lady Daphne. No...”
The man grinned, pulling off the robe he was wearing. A cascade of black and white hair tumbled down.
“I should call you Lady Seluseu, shouldn't I?”
