Out with the old, in with the new

Chapter 31

“Marmoria-kun, about the minutes from earlier—”

“I’ve already sorted and submitted them to the archives.”

“I see. Then, regarding the materials for the noble loan issue in four days—”

“They’ve been arranged as well.”

“…Hmph.”

His superior falls silent, unable to say more. The conversation ends. He isn’t a bad man—diligent enough in his duties.

But perhaps due to age, his ability to process tasks has declined to a troubling degree.

Spending days on such menial assignments is, frankly, a waste.

Can a department responsible for national records—even one operating in the shadows—truly afford to be in such a state? The urge to click my tongue rises, but I suppress it under the watchful gazes around me.

This was never a post I asked for in the first place. So long as I avoid mistakes, no one complains. As long as I appear to be doing my job, that’s sufficient.

Some senior staff glare at me with barely concealed resentment, having been banished to this obscure department.

But considering how they fumble even basic tasks, I doubt they could ever pose a threat to me. I simply ignore them.

If ordered, I’ll submit the required documents before the deadline—no matter what.

But for me, these chores don’t even qualify as work.

Once the essential tasks are complete, I spend the rest of the day waiting out the clock.

No matter how competent I am, the Compilation Office grants promotions solely based on seniority and family status.

Effort means little for someone like me.

Tucked away in a corner of the royal palace, the Compilation Office processes records submitted by various agencies and feudal lords, organizing, storing, or redistributing them as needed.

Among court nobles and cabinet officials, it’s dismissed as a lowly post—an errand-runner’s desk with a fancy title.

A massive archive of decades’ worth of records, a reading room for document access, and cramped workspaces for overnight staff…

This musty, forgotten corner of the palace is populated either by eccentric lovers of paperwork or misfits deemed unfit for real administrative roles. Or by people like me—assigned here as punishment.

The Kingdom of Holfalt is still reeling from two wars with the Duchy of Fanoss and faces a severe manpower shortage.

But even then, they won’t risk placing political outcasts in key positions.

I can only watch helplessly as those favored by Duke Redgrave rise through the ranks.

For someone like me—who once dared to entrap his daughter, Angelica Rapha Redgrave—there’s no longer a place at court.

We often learn in history classes how heroes of the battlefield are tucked into ceremonial roles once peace is restored.

I was no exception.

I helped raise Olivia as a saint. I broke off my engagement with the Atley family. I collaborated with anti-Redgrave nobles and served as Prince Julius’s behind-the-scenes fixer.

As a result, I was disowned by House Marmoria, left clinging to noble status in name alone. A dull ache pulses in my chest as I recall those days.

The funds I scraped from my estranged family—intended to bring Bartfort to our side through channels tied to His Highness—amounted to nothing.

A newly risen noble from the frontier, indebted to the Duke and dominated by his wife.

I thought I could use him, turn him into our inside man within the Duke’s camp.

That was a grave miscalculation.

The kingdom, desperate for capable young nobles during recovery, can’t afford to leave us idle.

Formal awards and appointments won’t come for at least another year.

In the meantime, those without position or backing—like Bartfort—are dispatched to understaffed departments.

But that only applies to those without political baggage.

We—the ones who incited the engagement scandal, acted alongside the saint, and accumulated both merit and disgrace—are now liabilities.

Thanks to the Duke’s influence, we’ve been scattered to dead-end posts across the kingdom.

Brad was sent to assist House Field, supposedly to monitor remnants of the duchy.

Chris joined a strike force dealing with the postwar surge in sky pirates.

Greg was assigned to guard duty, rooting out illegal adventurers in royal dungeons.

His Highness now handles mundane clerical tasks passed down from above.

Olivia, now revered as a saint, is under such tight scrutiny that she’s barely allowed visitors.

And I—I rot away in the archives, buried in dust and paper.

“To support His Highness. To protect the saint. To serve the kingdom.”

That dazzling vision we once pursued vanished before I even noticed. Now, I’m reduced to unchallenging work, struggling through each day. The tidbits of information I’m forced to compile only deepen my frustration.

Everyone here seems to look down on me.

Even if I begged House Marmoria for help, they abandoned me the moment the scandal broke.

The funds I barely managed to borrow—claimed to be for building new political ties—are frozen thanks to my failed bid to buy Bartfort’s loyalty.

I’ve even considered side businesses, investing what little I have. But every attempt just leaves a bitter aftertaste.

Am I simply to be forgotten? Left to rot in obscurity?

The price of crossing the ducal house was far steeper than I ever imagined.

※　※　※　※　※

Early morning, the day after a holiday.

As I walk the palace corridors, a timid voice calls out from behind me.

“Um… You’re Jilk Fia Marmoria-sama, correct?”

I turn to see a girl with dark blue hair, staring up at me hesitantly. She looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place her.

After the war, I was approached by more noblewomen than I could count.

Most were unmarried daughters—eyes full of ambition and calculation.

But once I was relegated to a desk job, they disappeared overnight.

The moment they realized I had no future, they abandoned me without a second thought. Their shameless pragmatism was almost admirable.

These types aren’t worth my time.

“If you can hear me, at least respond. Otherwise, it reflects poorly on your upbringing.”

As I try to walk past her, another voice stops me. Two more figures appear—a short woman and a male elf.

I recognize the elf. He served Olivia.

“It’s been a while, Jilk-sama. I’m Kyle, personal attendant to Saint Olivia.”

“You. What do you want? I have work to do.”

I never liked this elf.

Partly because of his race, and partly because he’s always at Olivia’s side. That resentment colors my tone with bitterness. Naturally, he meets my glare with one of his own.

I’d rather not deal with him at all, but now that they’ve approached me, I have no choice.

“Congratulations on your grand promotion to the Compilation Office. I hear you’ve been quite active since the transfer.”

“I’m new, so my seniors kindly assign me the easier tasks. I just barely finish on time.”

A casual exchange, but our words are laced with venom, thickening the air between us. The blue-haired girl looks uneasy, frozen in place.

“Kyle-kun, that’s enough,” the short woman says with a calm, clear voice. With a sigh, she reaches into her bag.

“We’re here on Saint Olivia-sama’s orders. We’d like to access some records.”

“Outsiders aren’t allowed access. Without a letter of recommendation, you can’t even enter.”

“We already have written approval from His Highness, Prince Julius.”

She hands me a formal letter detailing their request, complete with the prince’s signature and seal. Had they simply submitted this through official channels, the request would’ve been approved instantly.

“We could’ve gone through another staff member, but the palace has too many eyes. That’s why we came to you.”

It makes sense. A noblewoman not in maid attire, accompanied by an elf, presenting a prince’s endorsement?

That would attract attention. If anyone questioned its authenticity, it could cause complications. So they approached me instead—someone unlikely to attract scrutiny.

“Understood. I’ll handle the entrance procedures. Don’t expect me to take responsibility beyond that.”

“Thank you.”

I hurried to the archive, peeked into the reading room, and found that the assigned staff hadn’t arrived yet. I discreetly stamped the letter and filed it, then prepared a guest badge. Tasks like these keep falling to me simply because I’m the newest here. I’ve grown used to it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not irritating.

“You’re prohibited from taking or copying documents. The reading room is over there.”

“Could we stay for a few days to conduct our research?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think I can make that happen?”

“It’s for His Highness Julius and Olivia-sama.”

They know exactly which strings to pull. I search my mind for a feasible—but unappealing—solution.

“…There’s a small private room assigned to me. You might be able to use it, at least until someone notices.”

“Please take us there at once.”

“Stop barking orders. I have my own circumstances, you know.”

“And we have ours. We’re short on time.”

Clicking my tongue in frustration, I lead them to the room. It’s cramped—meant for solitary archival work—barely large enough to fit its modest furnishings, much less multiple people.

“Well then, we’ll begin our investigation. Thank you for your assistance.”

What exactly are these three planning to do in this tiny room? I didn’t know. And frankly, I didn’t want to. I was just a low-level civil servant, buried in parchment and ink.

As I watched them settle in, I sighed again, already exhausted at the thought of returning to my dull, dusty desk and the lifeless faces of my colleagues.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

“I didn’t think it would actually work.”

“You have to try everything. If you’ve got the guts, you can push through more than you’d expect.”

“Doesn’t that make people dislike you?”

“If all it earns is a little dislike, then the one who speaks up still comes out ahead.”

We laughed together as we unpacked our bags onto the desk. A few notebooks, several pens, a couple of ink bottles, and snacks for breaks.

We took turns bringing what we needed. Time was desperately short.

“But Marmoria-sama didn’t remember me. I thought he’d never forgive me for being involved in bullying Olivia-sama—that he’d hold a grudge forever.”

“That’s how nobles are. They don’t see anyone as human unless they’re fellow nobles or their favorite commoners. Beastmen are treated like animals that happen to resemble humans.”

“Even after Olivia-sama became a saintess and commoners who proved themselves in the war were raised to nobility, the aristocrats haven’t changed.”

“You two were noble ladies once, right?”

“We’re former noble ladies. Our families have fallen so far that there’s nothing left of them.”

As I bantered with Carla-san and Kyle-kun, we finished setting up.

“Let’s start gathering materials. For now, we need details on each country’s wartime movements and the support provided to the Alzer Republic, just as Olivia-sama requested. Also, the changes within our kingdom’s nobility—the dissolved houses and the ones newly elevated.”

“For today, let’s just get a general idea of where the relevant documents are.”

“Can’t I just fetch the materials while you two handle the research?”

“That would mean work stops entirely when it’s just you here, Kyle-kun.”

“We rotate shifts attending to Olivia-sama, but when she’s out visiting, leaving only one person here is too unreliable.”

“Wouldn’t it be fastest to just have Olivia-sama come here herself?”

“No way. That’d definitely be the quickest solution, but it’d attract way too much attention.”

Olivia-sama’s intellect is extraordinary.

She possesses healing magic and the power to soothe people’s hearts, but it’s her brilliant mind that has allowed her to overcome crisis after crisis.

That brilliance, however, is best suited for inspiring others and healing hearts and bodies—not for maneuvering through the political minefield.

“Marie-san, you were the daughter of a viscount, right? Don’t you know about these kinds of things?”

“My parents were scoundrels who stole from their youngest daughter. Carla-san, you went to the academy. You’d know more than I do.”

“My family held a baronetcy—basically commoners. What about you, Kyle-kun?”

“Do you really think I’d have that kind of knowledge, being a servant to Olivia-sama, a commoner by birth?”

We all sighed. No matter how you looked at it, the task ahead was absurdly overwhelming. A saintess born to commoners, a former noblewoman disowned by her family, another from a fallen lesser house, and an elven servant.

Just the four of us, trying to chart the future of the kingdom.

“Maybe we should ask Marmoria-sama for help…”

“I thought so too—until we actually met Him. He’s hopeless. And those five idiots are useless outside of combat.”

“Marie-san, that’s harsh. Though… I agree.”

The more we got to know the five who follow Olivia-sama, the more exasperated we became. Hearing stories about them from Olivia-sama herself was enough to give us headaches. They’re pampered young masters untouched by hardship.

With high innate abilities, they rarely encountered failure, and their prestigious upbringings meant no one ever disciplined them. They don’t even recognize their selfishness as such, wielding their strength, influence, and wealth like spoiled children.

They’ve supposedly improved a little thanks to Olivia-sama’s influence, but they’re far from respectable. Do they even see Olivia-sama as a saintess?

I wish they’d stop forcing her to babysit overgrown children.

“If only there were more people willing to help Olivia-sama.”

“That fat old high priest only thinks about using her to line his pockets. His cronies secretly look down on her too.”

“How about allying with the duke? Sure, he’d try to use Olivia-sama too, but at least he’d treat her with respect. It’d be better than rotting away in this half-collapsed temple.”

Kyle-kun’s suggestion made us fall silent. It was true—aligning with the duke might ease Olivia-sama’s burden and even improve her treatment. It could very well be the fastest way to rebuild this decaying kingdom. That is… if you could stomach the bloodshed that might come with it.

“…If Olivia-sama were the type to accept that, maybe it’d work. But if she were that kind of person, she wouldn’t have saved us.”

“She ignored all the rumors and hired me anyway. Because of her, I can support my mother without bringing her shame.”

“I was disowned and had no path left but prostitution. Yet she brought me into the temple—even after all the awful things I did as a ward of the Offrey family.”

“I was starving when she saved me. If we don’t repay Olivia-sama’s kindness now, we’re just worthless ingrates.”

The saintess is extraordinarily kind. She forgives even those who hurt her—as long as they truly repent. That’s precisely why she’s so vulnerable, and why we’re doing what little we can to support her.

“Well then, shall we get started?”

We headed toward the archives to begin our research. Time was against us, but that wasn’t a reason to stop resisting. We owe Olivia-sama. And we love her. 

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Several days had passed since that strange trio began occupying my private room.

At first, some staff questioned why unfamiliar visitors were lingering in the archives and reading room for so long. But within a few days, they stopped caring, treating them like fixtures of the space—potted plants, essentially.

The staff here are either eccentric enough to ignore everything around them or too robotic to think beyond their assigned tasks. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe they just don’t care about me, either. That’s a humiliation of its own.

The trio had developed a system: one gathered materials, and the other two worked. By the second day, writing supplies had begun piling up.

On the third, they brought cups, spoons, and other tableware. By the fifth, clothes and towels appeared. On the seventh day, they brought in blankets and pillows.

At this point, anyone sane would be furious.

The fact that I hadn’t lost my temper despite my private room being repurposed like this should be considered praiseworthy. On the morning of the ninth day, I finally snapped and arrived early.

There I found a small woman curled up on a cloth spread across the floor, a blanket draped over her head, softly snoring. Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen the other two since the seventh day.

Did they get bored, or did something else come up? An urge to kick her rose within me, but I forced it down.

“How long are you planning to sleep? Get up.”

I shook her small frame and spoke calmly. Though my voice wasn’t loud, it echoed enough to rouse her. She slowly opened her eyes, yawned, glanced at the wall clock, glared at me—and promptly lay back down.

“Get up! Don’t go back to sleep!”

“Carla-san and Kyle-kun will be here soon. Just let me sleep till then.”

“This is my private room, not your lodgings.”

“You weren’t using it much anyway. I’m simply making efficient use of resources.”

“Show some manners!”

I yanked off the blanket, and her small body rolled unceremoniously across the floor. As she stretched out lazily, she reminded me of a stray cat. Her rumpled clothes briefly revealed her neck and thighs—not that I’m some deviant who’d be tempted by her scrawny figure.

She climbed into a chair and attempted to pour something from a pot into her cup—only a few drops came out.

“Go put some hot water in this.”

She handed me the pot without hesitation. Her sheer audacity left me too stunned to be angry.

“You should really learn to take care of yourself.”

“If word got out that I’m sleeping in this room, you’d be the one in trouble. Imagine the rumors—sneaking a woman into your workplace? Your already bad reputation would tank even further.”

What a woman.

Not only was she arrogant, but she didn’t even try to hide her contempt for me. I headed to the nearby break room, dragging my feet in frustration.

Out of spite, I filled the pot with cold water and returned, slamming it onto the desk with theatrical force as she dozed in the chair.

I expected her to panic—but she simply dropped a few sugar cubes into the cup, poured in the water, stirred it carelessly, an

d downed it in one go.

“…That was water. I asked for hot water.”

“You only realized that after drinking the whole thing?”

“White sugar’s a luxury. Too wasteful to use it on tea.”

“I absolutely disagree.”

Why does Olivia-sama keep such an incomprehensible man by her side?

“Are the other two not coming anymore?”

“Olivia-sama is currently attending to some business, so they’re accompanying her. Since it’s within the kingdom, there’s little risk of any villains targeting the Saintess. Kyle-kun should be sufficient as her escort.”

“An escort? You?”

The moment I scoffed, something grazed my cheek, followed by a sharp clang behind me. Turning around, I saw a fork lying on the floor. It must have struck the wall and ricocheted back.

Had it been even slightly off, that metal utensil might have pierced my face.

“You shouldn’t judge people by appearances or status. If the world has a saintess born a commoner, it also has former noblewomen trained in the art of killing.”

“…Are you an assassin?”

“I haven’t killed anyone—yet. But I’ve hunted more monsters than I can count. Their meat, hides, and organs were my livelihood. As for crimes other than murder or prostitution… well, I’ve done most of them.”

The woman before me, casually twirling a spoon with one hand while wearing a smile, seemed more beast than human.

In my current position, I’m not permitted to carry a sword. One wrong move, and this woman could kill me.

“Don’t look so tense. Right now, I’m merely a maid serving Olivia-sama.”

“I’m not naïve enough to lower my guard in front of a sinner. Criminals belong in chains.”

“Oh? So the foolish young master who takes pleasure in framing others for crimes they didn’t commit isn’t a sinner himself?”

His fists clenched at her words. Just how much does she know about my past?

“I’ve heard the basics from Olivia-sama. You’ve done some rather despicable things, haven’t you? While you were sulking after being separated from His Highness and the Saintess, Olivia-sama’s been running herself ragged cleaning up your mess.”

“What could you possibly understand!?”

He could no longer endure her sharp, relentless remarks. Glaring at her with unrestrained fury, he cast aside all pretense of dignity. Yet she didn’t flinch, calmly pouring water into a cup.

Infuriating. Everything about this is infuriating.

“I’ve served His Highness since childhood. It is a vassal’s duty to eliminate any obstacle in the future king’s path—to ensure nothing stands in his way!”

“And that justifies lies? Fabricated crimes?”

“For the sake of the great tree that is the Holfort Kingdom, you can't afford to fuss over every pruned branch or leaf. Sacrifices must be made to ensure greatness.”

“That great tree is already rotting. You’ve severed so many branches and leaves, there’s barely anything left to grow.”

“Watch your mouth! Do you want to be charged with treason!?”

“If that happens, they’ll be forced to investigate why I’m here—and your involvement will come to light. That’ll cause trouble for Olivia-sama as well. Are you really fine with that?”

The colder her tone became, the more foolish he felt.

Sacrificing the few for the many. Trimming the fringes to keep the kingdom’s political machinery running. In the royal court, it’s not about what’s just—it’s about who benefits. If the royal family declares black as white, then even the darkest truth is painted over. That’s why you strike first. To avoid being crushed.

“You think you’re clever. Righteous, even. But you're nothing more than a shallow fool and a self-righteous villain.”

“And you think you're in any position to judge? Didn't you admit earlier that you’ve committed every crime short of murder and prostitution?”

“True. I can’t say I’ve lived a life worth admiring. I’ve gone to apologize to my victims—only to be chased off, drenched with water, or pelted with garbage. Happens all the time.”

Her gaze drifted toward the ceiling, her expression melancholic as she fell silent. Is she weighed down by guilt? Or just reminiscing about her sins? It’s hard to say.

“I’m the daughter of a traitorous viscount and a criminal. Carla-san was once the daughter of a quasi-baronial family with ties to a count’s house. She was expelled from the academy and her family for bullying Olivia-sama. Kyle-kun—a despised half-elf—committed unspeakable acts in secret for various nobles to protect his mother. If someone said we’re unworthy to stand beside Olivia-sama, I wouldn’t disagree.”

“Then why stay? If you truly believe you’re unworthy, why not just disappear?”

“Simple. Because Olivia-sama saved us. That impossibly kind-hearted Saintess gave us a reason to live. So we’ll support her, no matter what.”

Only moments ago she’d looked distant, pained. Now she smiled radiantly. This woman’s shifting emotions—like a small, sensitive animal—might just be what keeps her close to Olivia.

“Olivia-sama once told me her dream: to study hard at the academy, contribute to her hometown, fall in love with someone wonderful, and get married. She said that for someone with such a small dream, being the Saintess felt absurd.”

“Olivia’s power is immense. She could rebuild this entire kingdom.”

“But would that bring her happiness? Can you truly say that working herself to the bone for this nation is what she wants?”

He had no answer. No words came. She looked at him, her gaze tinged with pity and exasperation.

“Did you know Olivia-sama is still sending apology letters to the young lady of the Atley family?”

That caught him off guard.

He hadn’t spoken to Clarice Fia Atley—his former fiancée—since their engagement was broken. With the war against the Principality of Fanoss and the academy’s indefinite closure, he’d become entirely absorbed with His Highness, Olivia, and the others. Clarice had vanished from his mind.

“She’s been writing letters every few months, even after being refused a meeting. You broke off the engagement, yet Olivia-sama believes it’s her fault.”

“Just the other day, she visited Angelica-sama, His Highness’s former fiancée. She bowed and pleaded for cooperation to ease the tensions between the royal family and the ducal houses. Angelica-sama turned her away politely, so I later visited the Bartfort family on Olivia-sama’s behalf.”

Her voice turned sharper, colder.

“If you truly care about Olivia-sama, stop making her life harder. She has enough burdens without your tantrums.”

Just as her final words cut deep, a knock echoed at the door. Turning, he saw the usual pair entering the room. It seemed quite some time had passed.

“Good work, Marie-san. We wrapped up things earlier than expected.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve brought Olivia-sama’s written instructions. Oh—and your lunch. It’s full of your favorites.”

“Carla-san, I love you! ♡ Marry me! ♡”

“Stop spouting nonsense and eat.”

“How’s the investigation coming along?”

“Not well. Olivia-sama isn’t well-versed in politics, and I’m hardly a genius.”

Even as she spoke, Marie-san tore through her lunch at an alarming pace. By the time she finished—an amount that easily matched his daily intake—her spirits had noticeably lifted.

“Can’t you eat a little more elegantly?”

“When you’ve grown up poor, etiquette doesn’t matter much. Ever caught and eaten a rat?”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Capital rats are fatter and greasier than country ones—probably from all the scraps they eat. The weeds here are bitter and barely edible.”

“I said I don’t want to hear it!”

The other two looked visibly disturbed, their expressions twitching. He was long overdue for work. Though this was supposed to be his room, the atmosphere now felt like it rejected his very presence.

Telling himself he wasn’t running away from Marie’s words, he left—averting his eyes from the truth.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Late at night, I sat in my room in the dormitory for palace workers, tucked away in a corner of the royal capital, gulping down liquor. I desperately wanted to get drunk. Yet no matter how much I drank, my mind stayed painfully clear.

It wasn’t Marie’s words that shook me. Not at all.

And yet, no matter how hard I tried to mask it, the weight of defeat gnawed at me. Even though my rational mind admitted that Marie was right, my heart refused to accept it.

I’m well aware of my pride—this inflated belief that I stand above others—yet I can’t seem to rid myself of it. Everything I’ve done, I believed, was for His Highness. For the prosperity of the kingdom.

That was always my justification.

I exploited others' weaknesses, brought them down, or bent them to my will to consolidate power. Rather than honing my own talents, I took pride in orchestrating the ruin of others.

That was the environment I grew up in.

And thanks to my natural aptitude, most of my schemes succeeded. I once took pleasure in the dark thrill of ruining others. But everything changed when I met Olivia.

The girl I had dismissed as a mere commoner turned out to be wiser, kinder, and stronger than any noblewoman I had ever known.

The twisted desire to possess her faded the more I came to understand her true nature.

I realized that belittling others doesn’t prove my worth. No amount of deceit could disguise the ugliness rooted in my heart. That’s why, when I discovered His Highness had feelings for Olivia, I chose to support them—without hesitation.

I spread slanderous rumors about Angelica, allied myself with Marquis Frampton to suppress opposition from the ducal house, and even collaborated with the temple to elevate Olivia to sainthood. All of it, I told myself, was for His Highness’s happiness and for Olivia’s protection.

I believed that noble ends justified ruthless means. I took the path of least resistance, confident I was doing the right thing.

But the results speak for themselves.

Angelica, whose engagement was broken, is now establishing a solid position on the frontier. Marquis Frampton was branded a traitor, and those of us who benefited from his support are viewed as tainted by association. The ducal house has become the kingdom’s dominant power, the royal family is losing ground, and Olivia, now a Saint, lives like a bird in a gilded cage within the temple.

And I? I’ve been cast aside to a post with no future.

Everything I did amounted to nothing. In truth, I only hastened the kingdom’s downfall. I used to despise corrupt nobles who abused their power and exploited the weak. But in the end, I became no different from them.

No better than a lecherous lord who forces a commoner into servitude and tries to justify it with pretty trinkets and status. Given that, perhaps it’s fitting that I’ve been exiled to a dead-end position.

Even I wouldn’t promote someone like me—an arrogant youth who slacked off, looked down on his peers, and clung to privilege and pride to mask his inadequacies.

Those three who serve Olivia may be criminals, but they don’t run from their pasts. They acknowledge their sins, strive to do better, and work tirelessly for her sake.

I can’t deny their resolve. I won’t.

Only now—too late, perhaps—do I finally recognize the weight of my own sins.

As the shame burns within me, stronger than the liquor I tried to drown it in, I begin to think about what I must do next.

First, I’ll perform my duties properly, no matter how small. I’ll stop judging people by status or pedigree. On my day off, I’ll visit the Atley family and apologize.

Even if they curse me or call it self-serving, I’ll accept their anger.

I don’t want to be the man I used to be.

Even if I’m no longer qualified to stand beside His Highness or Olivia, I still want to act with the pride of a true noble of the Holfort Kingdom. This is the first time I’ve felt something like real conviction.

Tonight, I vow to live as a noble in the truest sense. With that resolution, I leave the room and begin to run.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

“What are you doing?”

When I returned to the document archive staff room after a day away, I found the entire space transformed.

My work with Olivia-sama had ended that morning, and the plan for the afternoon was to take shifts reviewing the backlog of documents. But the room was unrecognizable.

The documents were neatly organized. Maps and organizational charts now adorned the walls. Most surprising of all was Jilk-sama, seated at a desk, deeply immersed in his reading.

“Why are you here? We’re the ones using this room now. Shouldn’t you be in the staff office?”

“I finished my assignments this morning. I’m here to assist this afternoon.”

“…What brought on this sudden change?”

I spoke sarcastically, but he didn’t even flinch—his attention remained locked on the documents. Something’s different about him…

The arrogance he once wore like armor was gone, replaced by an unshakable calm. The cynical detachment in his manner had vanished.

Kyle-kun and Carla-san were busy sorting through other papers, stacking them beside him.

“I’ve been briefed on the situation. I’ll cooperate with you.”

“You do realize helping us won’t make Lady Olivia like you, right?”

“That’s not why I’m doing this. I’m not seeking her approval. This is simply my duty—as a vassal of the Holfort Kingdom.”

“…Did you eat something strange? Rats, maybe? If you don’t cook them thoroughly, you’ll get sick. And you have to dry weeds properly, or they’ll upset your stomach.”

“Enough with the poverty jokes.”

I tried to provoke him, but he didn’t react. His composure was unshaken. His transformation was so complete it was unsettling.

“Carla-san, Kyle-kun, what’s going on?”

“No idea.”

“He just showed up and said, ‘I’ll help—no, I must help.’ Oh, and he brought food.”

Now that I noticed, a bag of high-quality provisions sat on the table. My mouth watered, but I forced myself to focus on the documents. Some of the material was unfamiliar. I didn’t understand the significance.

“…Is he actually useful?”

“He’s not just useful—he’s doing more than the three of us combined.”

“It’s infuriating how competent he is. Absolutely infuriating.”

“Less talk, more work.”

Chided, the two returned to their tasks. I picked up a document that caught my attention and approached Jilk-sama, still absorbed in his reading.

“Why are we reviewing this? It doesn’t seem relevant.”

“You’re only looking at isolated incidents.”

He finally looked up, eyes sharp with exasperation, as if silently asking, ‘You still don’t understand?’

His personality was still unbearable—even if his face was unfairly handsome.

“Everything is interconnected. A shortage in one region means a surplus elsewhere. When someone loses, another gains. Stop examining incidents one by one. Look at multiple events together. Trace the connections.”

“…That sounds too complicated.”

“It probably is—for you. Olivia may be brilliant, but she’s too kind-hearted for this kind of work. I’m the one suited to it.”

“I agree. No one else near Olivia has a worse personality or more talent for scheming than you.”

“How is this man not in jail?”

“He should drop dead.”

Despite the barrage of insults, Jilk-sama remained unfazed and continued working. Provoking him lost its charm quickly. I sighed and resigned myself to the task.

“…So, what should I start with?”

Those who don’t work don’t eat. And since I eat more than most, I vowed to pull my weight—and scrounge as many meals as I could off Jilk-sama while I was at it.

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Authors Note

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This is a Jilk-centric and Marie-centric chapter.  

I felt that the only ones capable of reforming the scheming Jilk were Olivia, the otome game protagonist, and Marie, the reincarnator. So, I combined Saint Olivia with a non-reincarnated Marie for this.  

Jilk’s apology to Clarice is heavily influenced by Leon and the others, so after the engagement was Broken, he likely never even faced her and left things as they were.  

The Atley family will be discussed later.  

In the next chapter, I’ll shift to another character’s perspective before returning to Angelica and Leon’s viewpoint. (This was a long one…)

Addendum: Thanks to the client, we were able to have illustrations and artwork done by YOO Tenchi-sama and Ponnu-sama. Thank you so much!  

- YOO Tenchi-sama:https://www.pixiv.net/artworks/111872776

- Ponnu-sama: https://www.pixiv.net/artworks/111885767

I’d love to hear your feedback and thoughts, as they’ll motivate me moving forward.

[TL/N- I forgot today was the upload date, that's why upload was so late . Sorry]