Chapter 2 – Part 4

Olivia changed her clothes and followed Sochell. She introduced herself as the eldest daughter of the Cheska family, having joined the royal knights’ order five years ago.

Sending a female knight seemed to suggest the commander wasn’t entirely clueless. However, the reason for calling her was far from satisfactory.

That was because Celeste, who had summoned her, was in the training grounds.

“We’ve arrived, Marchioness.”

When they reached a wide open area, Sochell gestured for her to proceed. Olivia made eye contact with her and then entered.

“Thank you for coming, Marchioness.”

Celeste, dressed more casually than during the audience, greeted her. Behind him stood several knights, regardless of gender, lined up.

“Why did you call me? And you even prepared sparring gear.”

“There was nothing to prepare. I merely gave you the clothes you used to wear.”

Olivia looked down at her outfit. These were the clothes ‘Olivia’ had worn during joint training with the royal knights. That had been abruptly ended by Harry Palmer’s decision.

‘I want to kill the original author.’

The original work had revealed almost nothing about ‘Olivia.’ The author had demoted a Marchioness who trained with the royal knights to a mere supporting female character. If the original had wielded her as a villain, it would have been less frustrating.

“Whatever it is, please get to the point quickly. I don’t want to waste time before the banquet.”

Despite her words, Olivia was secretly excited.

The training ground covered with soft dirt, the array of wooden swords, the vigilant eyes of the knights—all of it pleased her. These were probably things the original Olivia cherished.

‘Olivia Charbert’ was not just a woman obsessed with love. There were things she genuinely cared for and loved.

“I heard you’ve been wielding a sword more frequently lately.”

“More frequently than before?”

The insinuating tone made Olivia’s eyebrows rise. Celeste smiled, seemingly pleased with her reaction.

“I thought you’d given up the sword to play the role of a demure noblewoman, swayed by those around you.”

‘This bastard.’

Olivia didn’t bother hiding her derisive snort. Celeste, who had trained with her and fought in minor skirmishes, had been a fellow soldier. He clearly wasn’t happy to see her being manipulated by her vassals.

‘She must have been battered from all sides.’

Those who recognized her worth and those who didn’t had both pounded Olivia. There had been no adult to support the precariously teetering child.

…Except for Troy Marsden.

“Sir Celeste.”

Olivia called out to Celeste as if to banish thoughts of Marsden.

“Everyone has their own circumstances. I don’t care about yours, but just like you have your reasons, so do I. If I were to criticize you here for not learning etiquette while training, wouldn’t you be angry?”

The composure vanished from Celeste’s face. She heard the knights behind him gasp.

“Some people might have found me frustrating. But that doesn’t give them the right to speak out of turn. If you really wanted to see if I returned as the ‘comrade’ you wanted, shouldn’t you have first asked how I’ve been?”

“……”

Celeste was at a loss for words, seemingly struck to the core. His eyes showed turmoil.

Olivia looked around at the knights. The same ones she had seen in the audience chamber were now watching her with eyes tinged with jealousy.

“How sad. I return from the dead, and there’s not a single person to genuinely welcome me.”

“That’s….”

“Well, give me a wooden sword. I could use some stress relief.”

Cutting off Celeste, Olivia extended her hand to the right, where a knight approached and handed her a wooden sword.

“By the way, did I mention?”

“What?”

Celeste’s eyes were filled with some deep emotion as he stared at her. Olivia smiled brightly.

“I like the inferiority complex you all feel towards me.”

“What did you say?”

“It’s thrilling. It feels great. So come at me quickly, let me crush you.”

The excitement that had momentarily subsided began to surge again.

Olivia instinctively knew this was what both the original Olivia and she desired. Not complicated schemes, but a fair match of skill versus skill.

“Just stand back and watch with your thumb in your mouth. I’ll show you how brilliant your comrade really is.”

Celeste stood there, dumbfounded, staring at her. Olivia turned to face the knights.

“Alright, who wants to go first?”

She faced ten knights in total. The ratio was six men to four women.

The duel began. There was no need to think too hard. Her body moved on its own.

‘Olivia Charbert’ was not a mere accessory. She had abilities and potential far beyond the few lines mentioned in the original work.

She wasn’t someone who should be ashamed of loving someone passionately. Olivia instinctively understood this.

“Let’s go eat.”

Olivia stretched with the wooden sword still in her hand.

Ten matches, ten victories. It was a complete triumph for Olivia.

***

John wandered through the vast palace, drooling over its grandeur. Then he snapped to attention. He wasn’t here for sightseeing; he had come on his master’s orders.

“Where is she…?”

He should have arrived sooner, but he was late. The audience was already over, and Olivia Charbert had been escorted to a guest room. So she should be in the guest room, but he was told she had gone to the training grounds.

‘This place is ridiculously huge.’

John followed the directions given by a palace attendant, but the palace was so vast. He finally found his way to the training grounds after asking several people.

“Huh?”

A large crowd had gathered around the training grounds. They were all chattering and watching intently.

“She won again!”

“Will she win the next match too?”

“She’s just a noble raised in luxury. I bet five pence she’ll lose this time.”

Curious about what was happening, John craned his neck. He soon witnessed a shocking scene.

‘Olivia Charbert!?’

The Marchioness Olivia was dueling with a burly knight. According to Mr. Palmer, she had given up the sword. So what was this flying around all about?

‘She’s really become a different person.’

While John was astonished, he also had a question. Mr. Palmer had said Olivia had lost her mind, but she seemed different to John.

Far from being mad, she looked like someone who had been liberated from something. This sight drew him in, and it wasn’t just John. Others were watching Olivia’s swordplay with their mouths agape.

‘Oh, I need to get it together.’

John slapped his cheeks.

He couldn’t afford to be mesmerized by Olivia. After all, the true master of the Charbert estate was Harry Palmer. He needed to report that Olivia Charbert had changed in a way that Mr. Palmer didn’t expect.

“Wow, she won again!”

“Is she a monster?”

“Was the Marchioness always this good with a sword?”

John whipped around. My god, Olivia had won again.

“Let’s go eat.”

It seemed like that was the last match. John’s mouth fell open.

Everyone, including the palace attendants, clapped. They had enjoyed a rare spectacle without spending a dime.

Mr. Palmer won’t be pleased. John worried about Harry’s reaction as he turned to leave. That was when it happened.

“Hey, you.”

John didn’t think the voice was calling him. There were too many people around.

“Short brown hair, gray coat, red tie. You, look here.”

A chilling sensation ran down his spine.

“Eek!”

John jumped. Olivia was standing right in front of him. When did she get here?

“You look familiar. Are you from my household?”

“N-no.”

He had to hide it. If she found out, Mr. Palmer would kill him.

“That’s odd. I feel like I’ve seen you before. Did Roderick send you? Or Harry Palmer?”

Gulp. John swallowed hard. He didn’t respond, but that alone was enough of an answer.

“I see.”

“Not at all! I was just invited by an acquaintance.”

“An invitation? Who would invite you? Are you sure Harry Palmer didn’t send you?”

Why did her gentle tone feel so intimidating? John took a few hesitant steps back, but Olivia only stepped closer.

Of all things, she was tall, matching John’s eye level, which only fueled his inferiority complex and fear.

“I’m telling you, it’s not true!”

“Then just say it.”

Olivia smiled sweetly at the irate John.

Something felt ominous. He had a bad feeling about this. As John nervously sweated, Olivia spoke again.

“If it’s really not true, then say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say ‘Harry Palmer is a bastard.'”

“W-what?!”

John’s legs trembled. Olivia covered her mouth with a fist.

“If you don’t even know who Harry Palmer is, then just repeat after me. If he didn’t send you, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Harry Palmer is a bastard.”

Olivia kindly repeated it for him.

John couldn’t say it.

It was Olivia’s eleventh victory out of ten.