Chapter 2

The north wind rattled the windowpanes. A cold draft whistled through the gaps and crept into the room.

“So cold…”

I woke up in the middle of the night, shivering violently.

“Sleeping like this… Patience is going to freeze to death.”

Until just a few days ago, I was supposed to be a Japanese office working lady. Yet, for some reason, when I opened my eyes, I had become Patience Granger.

This “Patience Granger” is apparently an aristocrat, but the family is desperately poor—“dirt poor” doesn’t even begin to cover it. The standard of living is so low it’s a matter of life and death.

When I first woke up as Patience, I was so weak and emaciated that my first instinct was to call an ambulance, thinking, I’m going to die like this! Help! But as I looked around, I realized this wasn’t my room, and there certainly wasn’t a telephone.

“Lady Patience, are you awake?”

A red-haired maid spoke to me with a look of pure joy. Somehow, I knew her name was Mary, and I knew that I was Patience Granger.

“I feel incredibly weak. Call a doctor.”

I asked Mary, but she looked troubled.

I can’t possibly call a doctor just for myself.

The “Patience” inside me protested, That’s unthinkable!

“We called the doctor yesterday… and it seems your fever has finally broken…”

Mary gave me some water through a spout cup, and I finally felt like I was returning to my senses.

From Patience’s memories, I learned that calling a doctor was an immense luxury, something reserved only for life-threatening illnesses. In other words, the “me” from yesterday—the original Patience—really had been on the verge of death. It’s unclear whether I’ve possessed her or been reincarnated as her, but I have definitely become Patience Granger.

Did I die? It seems Patience died, but then what are these memories? That was the problem.

I was Kaoru Aoyama, a twenty-five-year-old office lady living alone after university. I had no health issues and lived a perfectly normal life. I don’t have memories of being hit by a truck—as is common in reincarnation stories—nor did I meet a goddess in a white room to receive “cheat” abilities.

I had simply come home from work, eaten a light meal, taken a bath, played on my computer for a bit, and gone to bed. So why did this happen? I tilted my head, wondering if there had been a fire or an earthquake in the middle of the night.

What was even stranger was that I possessed Patience’s memories with absolute clarity. Thanks to that, I could speak and understand the language here, which was a blessing, but having Patience’s “common sense” govern my actions was a nuisance.

Patience was a proud noble, and on top of that, she was overflowing with a spirit of self-sacrifice. Apparently, her mother had also died of pneumonia because of that same self-sacrifice.

This House Granger consists of the father, Viscount William, and the two younger brothers: eight-year-old Nasius, the heir, and six-year-old Henry.

In my memories, my little brothers were literal angels. Patience would always give up her meager portions of thin meat at the dinner table for them. Because of that, she was skin and bones with no resistance; she likely caught pneumonia in the winter cold and passed away. Probably.

While having clear memories was one thing, the difficulty lay in her ingrained manners.

A noble lady must sleep elegantly, with her hands clasped together on top of the quilt.

She died because she followed her late mother’s teachings, sleeping like that in a room with no heating and only a paper-thin blanket. I was appalled, but my body seemed to still be sleeping according to Patience’s habits. Sleeping as primly as Sleeping Beauty only works in a room with proper heating.

“It’s too cold! Didn’t Mother die of pneumonia because she slept like this, too? I’ll have to check in the morning if these thin blankets are all we have.”

Until then, I would have to go against her mother’s teachings. I pulled the blanket over my head and curled up like a cat.

“This might be a little warmer… I wonder if the Angels are okay?”

I have a bit of a “shotacon” [young boy] preference. Ah, the shota manga on the computer I left behind in Japan… I really want to delete them. But there’s no use thinking about that now.

According to Patience’s memories, my brothers—both under ten—sleep together in the nursery, so they should be a bit warmer.

At any rate, I have to sleep and recover at least some strength. If I don’t put something better than this watery gruel into my stomach, my life—whether it’s reincarnation or possession—will end right here.

Furthermore, if I don’t do something about this House of Viscount Granger, I won’t be able to stand the pity I feel for my brothers. On this, my “shota-loving” self and the “brother-loving” Patience were in total agreement.