Sigrid - 40

“I should greet him at least once.”

“Morris?”

“He helped save Seria.”

“Should I introduce you next time?”

“After I become a magician.”

“Hmm, alright. Understood.”

After answering, Sigrid suddenly asked something that occurred to her.

“Come to think of it, do you understand not wanting to compete?”

“Compete?”

“Yeah, like not even wanting to step into the ring.”

“I suppose some people are like that. Pacifists, maybe?”

“What about you? Is it similar since you’re a magician?”

At those words, Arkana smiled and said:

“There’s no one greedier than a magician, persistently digging, waiting, and repeating until they get what they want for such a long time. Competition is just incidental.”

“I see. That’s actually easier for me to understand.”

Endlessly repeating until sword skills improve. Comparison and competition with others are just secondary issues that come along with it.

“Why? Who said they don’t like competition?”

“Someone.”

“Is it a weak person?”

“Not really.”

“Then they must be kind-hearted.”

“That’s right! How do you know so well, Arkana?”

“It’s common.”

Arkana grinned and continued:

“More importantly, aren’t you running late?”

“You’re right, I should hurry and get ready. Thanks for the advice.”

“It’s nothing.”

He lightly patted her arm and left the room. As soon as she heard the door close, Sigrid quickly threw off her clothes and let down her hair.

Perhaps because of the hair oil Marie-Chez had given her, her hair was much shinier than before. After brushing her long hair that reached her hips, she braided it and neatly secured it. She wore a green tunic that came up to her neck. It reached the middle of her thighs. It was comfortable with buttons only at the neck.

‘They chose this design to save on gold buttons, but…’

However, she wasn’t planning to button it all the way up today because of the heat. She wore a leather belt with silver ornaments over it, and then loosely fastened a thin sword belt on top. She put on long socks and leather boots that came up below her knees.

Finally, she donned a short cloak to complete the outfit.

Sigrid stood in front of the mirror and moved around. According to Marie-Chez, this was a popular style among female knights tired of trousers, but Sigrid felt it might be embarrassing if she had to kick.

‘Even if I’m wearing short pants underneath…’

She had heard that women in southern countries wear clothes that show their underwear, but as a knight of the empire, she pondered for a long time whether it was appropriate. In the end, with no time to change, Sigrid went out in that outfit.

Once she was out on the street, she realized she was the only one concerned about her appearance; others paid her no attention, which finally put her mind at ease.

When she arrived at Morris’s mansion and knocked, the servant who always greeted her welcomed her inside. Instead of the reception room, she was led directly to the inner room where Morris was already waiting.

“Did you wait long?”

“No, you’re five minutes early.”

Morris said, pointing at the clock, and Sigrid nodded, saying “That’s good.” Morris offered her a seat. His mansion was filled with warm colors, fitting his personality. Sigrid sank into the soft khaki-colored sofa.

“What would you like to drink? Something cold?”

“Yes, anything is fine.”

When Sigrid answered politely, Morris ordered cold fruit and two cups of tea from the servant. A moment later, a tray with fruit and two cups of lime tea was brought in. Placing the cups in front of them, Morris said:

“Have you been well?”

“We saw each other yesterday, didn’t we?”

At Sigrid’s words, Morris laughed, saying “That’s true.”

“Your clothes are pretty too.”

“Marie-Chez picked them out. It’s nice to wear even with long sleeves because it’s cool.”

“I see. It did seem like something Marie-Chez would choose.”

It was an outfit the usually conservative Sigrid would never wear. The loose tunic contrasted with the belt emphasizing her slim waist. The glimpse of thigh visible between the long socks and tunic also naturally drew the eye.

Morris quickly raised his gaze.

Sigrid lightly traced the water droplets on the surface of the glass with her fingertips and said:

“Morris, if you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”

“Hm?”

“I mean about you and your brother.”

“Ah—”

Morris lightly pressed the back of his neck and said:

“No, it’s not that. I’m just not sure where to start… If I start from the beginning, it’ll be too long, but if I try to keep it short, it might end up being just one sentence.”

Ruffling his short, neat black hair, Morris sighed deeply and said:

“My father is what you’d call a typical knight. He’s extremely strict.”

“I see.”

“So he had high expectations for my older brother, the firstborn— but unfortunately, my brother was a bit slow to learn. Then I was born, just a year apart.”

Morris shrugged.

“And in my father’s eyes, I seemed to be the more promising heir. I realized my brother was being discriminated against compared to me when I was about seven…”

“That early?”

Surprised, Sigrid asked, and Morris tapped his knee rhythmically as he spoke:

“You know how all kids dream of having a pony? I got a pony for my birthday. I was so happy. But then I realized my brother never got one. That’s when I started to think something was odd. It was shocking when I saw my father hit my brother’s head with the spine of a book…”

Sigrid recalled her life in the orphanage. She was often beaten with horse whips or struck with firewood. She also imagined being hit on the head with a book spine.

‘I wonder if it hurts similarly.’

“And in everything, he compared my brother and me. I gradually grew to dislike and tire of it. My brother came to hate me extremely… So I left home as soon as I could. My father still hasn’t given up, and I have no intention of inheriting the Deforest Viscounty. That’s for my older brother, the firstborn.”

“Is that why you don’t use your full abilities? Because you dislike being compared to your brother?”

“Something like that…”

“I think I’d hate that even more.”

Sigrid muttered. If she thought someone she disliked—like the former Beramund, for example—was letting her win out of pity, she would hate them even more.

‘Besides, Beramund openly called him a ‘half-wit.’ That brother.’

Beramund doesn’t mince words.

If he said that, it must be true. Even when they fought, he never belittled Sigrid’s abilities.

He just stated the facts.

“Why don’t you want to inherit the viscounty?”

“I don’t want to be in conflict with my brother. And I dislike my father for driving a wedge between us. If I could, I’d like to cut ties with Deforest Castle completely. I’m also tired of all the gossip about us in high society.”

Morris added with a bitter smile.

“And I have this absurd hope that maybe if everything ends well, I could reconcile with my brother.”

“Really?”

Sigrid couldn’t understand. A title is precious. She had heard of people fighting to gain titles, but rarely of someone giving one up. It was so rare that it became a topic of conversation.

It sounded like an exemplary tale from a book.

But—

“Is it virtuous to leave an incompetent superior in place?”

“Sig.”

“Are the dependents of the Deforest family alright with this?”

“My brother doesn’t have any particularly bad habits.”

Morris said firmly.

“Isn’t incompetence as the head of the family also a sin?”

“If everything could be forgiven just based on ability, there would be no need for morals.”

His voice sharpened. Sigrid looked into Morris’s eyes.

Black, but a soft black with a hint of brown.

“If that’s what Morris thinks, then it must be so.”

Sigrid said this and drank her cold tea. The refreshing lime scent spread pleasantly. Morris groaned as if he had swung and missed at Sigrid’s surrender, and said:

“Of course, I’m not saying my brother is outstanding. He’s a bit slow, but— not to the point where he can’t support the family. He’s average. But because of me and my father, he’s been heading in an increasingly bad direction. So if I step back, he’ll improve.”

“Why is that because of you?”

Sigrid’s eyes widened.

“It’s because of your father.”

“If I hadn’t been there—”

“That’s an unreasonable assumption, Morris. And I’m glad you exist.”

At those words, Morris looked at Sigrid in surprise. In those crimson eyes, there was now something that could only be described as a torrent.

“You stepping back from competition, hiding your skills, thinking about it, it’s all because of that incompetent brother, isn’t it? If he had been capable, things wouldn’t have turned out this way. Or if your father had been a better person, the situation wouldn’t have deteriorated. So why is it your fault? Why are you saying you should disappear? Morris Deforest is my precious friend!”

Sigrid slammed the armrest.

“I can’t tolerate you saying such things about yourself.”

When Morris stared at her blankly, Sigrid cleared her throat and said:

“I’m sorry for insulting your family. But I hope you won’t think like that. I don’t like it when people insult my friend.”

Sigrid said, furrowing her brow. After looking at her for a moment, Morris smiled and said:

“Thank you for saying that.”

Morris stopped tapping his knee and slowly continued:

“And… I think I need to talk more with my brother now.”

“About what?”

“About this. I’ve always just avoided him. I’ve been stepping back and avoiding, thinking the situation would improve. But you’re right, Sigrid. That alone isn’t enough. I can’t keep blaming myself and acting like a victim forever.”

Sigrid hunched her shoulders at those words.

“No, I didn’t say anything that profound.”

“True, you showed it through actions rather than words.”

‘When?’

Seeing Sigrid’s puzzled expression, Morris laughed. He stretched out his legs and crossed them.

“Anyway, all sorts of stories about my brother and me have spread throughout high society. And the leading gossip-monger is Viscount Deforest himself.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Sig doesn’t attend social events often. You’ll probably hear about it soon enough. I just wanted to tell you before you heard those rumors.”

“Yes, thank you for telling me.”

“No need.”

Morris shook his head.

“This is the first time I’ve talked about this to anyone like this, but talking about it seems to have cleared my head. Thank you for listening. It must be annoying to hear about other people’s family matters.”

“I could listen to Morris’s stories all year round.”

At those words, Morris’s face turned serious.

“Sig.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been wondering, why did you suddenly start trusting me so much? It’s a bit awkward to say this, but we weren’t really that close before.”

Morris would speak to her, but Sigrid would either give short answers or ignore him. In fact, Sigrid didn’t have a good relationship with anyone in the 2nd Knight Order.

The worst relationship was between her and Marie-Chez. If she could have, Marie-Chez would have pushed Sigrid down the stairs.

Sigrid opened her mouth and then closed it, unsure how to answer Morris’s question. Moreover, Arkana had already told her it would be better not to tell people around her about traveling back in time.

Even if Morris wouldn’t think she was crazy if she told him the truth, she worried it might put him in danger, even if only slightly.

“Because… I knew you were a good person.”

The words she slowly uttered sounded illogical even to her own ears.

“How did you know?”

“Well—”

After hesitating, Sigrid spoke honestly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you the reason.”

Morris’s face stiffened slightly as he looked at her. Sigrid tensed, straightening her back even more. Morris sighed, then smiled and said:

“Alright. I’m glad you at least didn’t lie to me.”

“I would never lie to Morris.”

“I don’t know why you trust me so much, but I’m not someone worthy of such trust. I’m saying this again.”

“It’s okay, I know.”

Sigrid said with a grin. Morris wondered what she had seen. What part of him, what aspect had she seen to give him such trust?

‘I’m not that great a person.’

But looking into Sigrid’s eyes, he almost felt like he could become such a person. Feeling awkward, Morris cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“By the way, I heard you’re having a tea time in the garden?”

“Yes, do you want to come too, Morris?”

Morris imagined himself wedged between Lowengrin and Marie-Chez for 0.3 seconds and politely said:

“No, that’s alright.”

“Really? Our garden is full of roses, it’s worth seeing. That’s too bad.”

“I’ll come visit another time.”

“Okay. Come before all the roses wither.”

“I will.”

And they continued their conversation on more comfortable topics.

Finally, the day of the tea time arrived.

Marie-Chez gracefully stepped down from the carriage, receiving an escort. Her dress, made entirely of transparent muslin and lace in pure white, looked like a delicate piece of craftsmanship. The pearl decorations covering the bodice sparkled elegantly in the summer sunlight. As she opened her parasol, Lowengrin alighted next. She wore a deep blue tunic adorned with elaborate embroidery and jeweled cuffs. Her soft and delicate kid leather shoes were eye-catching.

“My goodness, the garden has really become something to see, hasn’t it?”

Marie-Chez exclaimed in admiration as Sigrid, who had come out to the gate to greet them, led them into the garden. Lowengrin looked at the roses and said:

“It’s true, the roses here are even bigger and more luscious than the ones at our house. And there are even some species I’ve never seen before. How did you manage to grow them?”

“Our house magician did it.”

Sigrid said, feigning modesty, and both women laughed at her words.

“Your gardener must be at the level of a magician indeed.”

“I agree completely.”

Sigrid guided the two to the back terrace. A snow-white tablecloth was already spread on the table. In the center, pale pink roses with leaves were beautifully arranged as a centerpiece.

As Marie-Chez and Lowengrin took their seats, Sigrid asked:

“What kind of tea would you like?”

“I’ll leave it up to you.”

Marie-Chez answered quickly before Sigrid could even mention the types. Sigrid nodded. A moment later, Seria emerged with a tray, her face tense.

She carefully set down a three-tiered serving plate.

It was filled with trifle made with fresh berries and cream, perfectly light-baked biscuits, summer strawberries topped with abundant cream, and sandwiches filled with cold ham and melon cut into bite-sized pieces.

Finally, she brought out the tea set. Marie-Chez washed her hands in lemon water, dried them, and smiled.

“It’s much better. It has a rustic feel.”

“It goes well with Siri’s garden.”

As Sigrid filled the teacups to the brim with the teapot, Marie-Chez took a sip of tea and smiled.