Confession (3)

“Yes, one more cup of tea, please.”

Alicia said with a beaming smile.

Alicia was never stingy with her smiles.

In the past, she hardly smiled and found it difficult, but recently, she clearly knew when to smile and did so properly.

Whether necessary or not, when speaking with familiar people, she spread a smile that put others at ease.

But rarely did she smile so broadly, with her eyes crinkling as they did now.

She always wore a kind face when asking for tea, but never quite like this.

Seeing Alicia’s overjoyed expression, like a puppy in the snow, Daisy swallowed the words she had meant to say.

“Yes, my lady.”

The twelve-month ring set the Empress had sent to Alicia was no less impressive than the sheet music Alicia had gifted to her.

Alicia had previously sent a rare piece of sheet music when visiting the concubines.

That gift had its own purpose at the time, and today’s gift served today’s purpose.

As she handed over the tea, Daisy spoke.

“It’s time to get ready now.”

Alicia’s face, glowing with a bright smile as she drank her hot tea, froze instantly.

She forgot to gently blow on the tea before sipping, and instead gulped it down with a stiff expression.

The tea was scalding hot, freshly steeped by Daisy.

“…….”

Alicia remained silent after drinking the hot tea.

“It must be hot. Shall I bring you some cold water?”

Daisy poured a glass of cold water and offered it.

Alicia accepted and drank it first.

“Thank you.”

Having drained the cold water in one go, Alicia’s face looked drained of all energy.

She appeared somewhat sulky, even slightly sullen.

“I’ll go ahead and prepare things.”

Daisy handed her another glass of cold water and withdrew politely.

“Haah…”

Left alone, Alicia let out a long sigh.

It was the day she would attend the dinner hosted by the Rain Marquessate in Baden.

For some reason, she had a bad feeling about it.

Ominous feelings were never wrong.

“Lady Alicia. It’s an honor to meet you.”

The brown hair streaked with gold was a distinctive trait of the Barker Family.

Edward Barker had dark brown roots with striking golden highlights in the lower part of his hair.

He smiled proudly, showing off his well-maintained blond locks.

“Sir Edward. The honor is mine.”

Alicia returned his greeting with a polite smile.

But once she turned her head, her expression turned ice cold.

Marquess Valdemar Rain met his daughter’s glare with a leisurely smile.

“Alicia. Family dinners are nice, but since the opportunity has arisen, I thought we might view some paintings together. We’ve invited a rare artist, so I hope you’ll enjoy it too.”

The Marquess spoke smooth, rehearsed words without missing a beat.

With just a flick of his eyes, he signaled her to look ahead.

Standing before Alicia were Edward Barker’s mother and younger sister.

Edward’s father was the brother of Gregory Barker’s father—the same Gregory who nearly became Alicia’s fiancé.

Edward’s father, the third son of the previous Count Barker, had not inherited a title and was thus a common noble.

Currently, the Barker Count’s household wielded great influence in the capital.

Though the late Count’s siblings and nephews became common nobles after his passing, many secured titles like baron or hereditary knight.

Still, no one in the Barker Family besides the Count held a noble title.

Some families held a dozen titles, but for most nobles, acquiring even one was no easy feat.

“Lady Barker, it’s a pleasure. Giselle, nice to meet you.”

Responding to Alicia’s greeting, the lady and the young Giselle returned their bows.

Unlike Alicia’s slight nod, the two offered a formal salute befitting Alicia’s status as a Lady.

In noble society, hierarchy was determined by even the smallest of titles.

Marquess Rain looked on approvingly as Alicia received their greetings.

But that wasn’t all he had prepared.

Once the lady and Giselle stepped aside, two young men stood revealed behind them.

Though their titles might rise in the future, for now, Edward had the upper hand with the Barker name behind him.

The two were quietly engaged in a silent tug-of-war.

“Sir Albert.”

Alicia didn’t wait for the hesitant pair.

“…Lady Alicia.”

A man who reminded Alicia of her former self.

A man whose every response was a beat too slow.

Albert McMahon reluctantly stepped forward at Alicia’s call and gave his greeting.

Though “greeting” was putting it generously.

“I’ve heard a lot about your father, Count McMahon, from mine.”

“…Yes.”

At this point in time, Albert McMahon was even slower in speech and more unresponsive than when Alicia had known him before.

Alicia expected this and wasn’t bothered.

“I heard you enjoy gardening, Sir Albert?”

“Yes. Do you like plants as well, my lady?”

It was the first time Albert responded without hesitation.

“No. I’m not very good at gardening.”

“Then… the reason you knew I liked it is…”

Albert spoke slowly and trailed off often.

“Harry told me.”

Alicia beamed, making the lie sound perfectly true.

“……?”

Harry looked flustered, but Alicia didn’t care.

“Ah, I see.”

Albert accepted it without question.

Looking at him, Alicia realized anew how she had traveled back in time.

In the past, the slow responses from someone difficult to engage with felt overwhelming—but now, they felt pitiable, and she wanted to help.

“Sir Joachim. You’re my father’s riding companion, aren’t you? I’ve heard much about you.”

“Lady Alicia. I, too, have heard much about you.”

It was a textbook example of formal small talk.

Alicia disliked the Marquess wasting energy on these needless introductions, but she didn’t entirely mind the moment.

So far, the conversation had gone smoothly without anything too unusual.

Even in small gatherings, standing out in noble society meant throwing oneself into a storm.

Alicia skillfully greeted the lineup of former suitor candidates.

In front of her father and guests, she convincingly played the part of a loving daughter.

“Lady Alicia.”

Just as Alicia thought she’d finished all the greetings, a man who had been standing in the corner stepped forward.

Alicia felt a sudden, dizzying sense of disorientation.

“…You’re the son of Count Gique, aren’t you?”

Pierre Gique looked at Alicia with a shy expression.

With short dark brown hair and sun-tanned skin, he was the largest man in the room.

Yet his bashful demeanor made people smile.

“I didn’t think you’d remember me. I’m Pierre Gique. Currently training to become a knight.”

“So you’re preparing for knighthood. I hope I get to see your swordsmanship someday, Sir Pierre.”

Even as she spoke, Alicia felt like she hadn’t quite regained her bearings.

Her gaze briefly flicked from Pierre to Harry by the wall, then to her father standing beside her.

“Well then, now that the introductions are done, shall we enjoy a light meal?”

Marquess Rain addressed the guests in the parlor with a gentle tone.

All the while, he completely ignored the violet eyes that stared at him as if they would pierce his cheek.

Pierre Gique.

Alicia could not compose herself.

‘Training to become a knight? You?’

She was dumbfounded.

The son of Count Gique.

Pierre Gique.

Though it was something from her past life, in a time not yet arrived in this timeline, he had married Josephina Lirin.

And Pierre Gique was Josephina Lirin’s murderer.

A killer, the pusher Gique.

Alicia nearly asked aloud, “Did you really shove her down the stairs because you were losing a sword fight during a lovers’ quarrel?”

The son of Count Gique, who in another timeline had been betrothed and married to Josephina, was here.

It felt like the past and present were tangled together.

“Dear, Alicia.”

“Father.”

Alicia was still staring straight up at the Marquess Rain.

“Yes.”

The Marquess welcomed Alicia back home with full warmth.

“You are the most cunning noble I know, Father. That’s an insult, by the way.”

Alicia met his gaze, speaking with steady clarity.

Even amidst the chaos in her mind, she didn’t forget to speak her mind.

She wasn’t just being sarcastic.

Marquess Rain had invited a carefully selected group of eligible bachelors—some of the best unmarried men near the capital.

Harry and the Rain household staff looked anxiously at Alicia, who smiled provocatively at her father.

“Thank you for the compliment. I had lamb prepared, your favorite. Let’s go.”

The Marquess responded calmly with the same polished smile as Alicia.

He urged Alicia along, mentioning how Marine had worked hard to decorate the house for her.

Alicia walked beside her father as they headed toward the dining room.

Her violet eyes, fixed on the Marquess, were brimming with irritation.

In contrast, his gaze toward Alicia was nothing but warm.

To an outsider, they might have seemed like a naive daughter and a gentle father.

Harry followed behind them nervously, unsure which of the two might erupt first.

He simply hoped the dinner would end peacefully.

Marquess Rain’s banquet was meticulously planned and flawlessly executed.

Light refreshments and drinks were served as the invited artist was introduced.

As guests listened to the artist’s lengthy self-introduction and a few stories, dishes were brought out.

They discussed recent happenings in the art world and ateliers over the meal.

They shared knowledge about paintings and sculptures, asked questions to the artist during the main course.

Then, with dessert, the artist introduced his artwork.

Explanations followed, with questions and answers about the paintings, followed by the presentation of similar and contrasting styles.

As the guests conversed while dining, they naturally became familiar with one another.

Time passed smoothly.

After the meal, the guests visited the gallery.

They viewed the paintings personally arranged by the artist, chatting lightly.

Other artists from the same Baden Art Academy also strolled through the gallery, discussing the works.

Despite the beautiful paintings, Alicia felt extremely uneasy.

The more captivating the artwork, the more her mood soured.

Every time she found herself enjoying the moment, her father’s intent became crystal clear.

The Marquess was teaching Alicia how to host a noble banquet.

The more pleasant the time became, the more she realized how cunning he was.

As Alicia stood alone admiring a refined painting, Harry approached.

Others had come near before, but seeing Alicia focused on the art, they had quietly withdrawn.

Now, like a statue come to life, Alicia turned her gaze toward him.

“Harry.”

“Alicia.”

Harry answered her call with one of his own.

He turned his eyes to look at her.

“Brother.”

“Speak, sister.”

For clarity’s sake, Alicia had decided to call the time before she fell into hell her “first round.”

And everything after returning from hell, her “second round.”

In the first round, for whatever reason, Marquess Rain had passed over the eldest son, Felix—who had been raised as the heir—and named Harry as his successor.