“Cecilia Mentcheson. What are you doing here?”
So, you’re throwing away your title as a viscount’s daughter now?
The owner of the cold voice was Lady Margareta Torrento, daughter of the duke.
Oh, right. I had forgotten. Back then, I used to share a room with Margareta and Cecilia, the three of us together. We got along well enough until the end of the first semester, but then something changed—a quarrel arose between them, something that had never happened before.
Margareta stood frozen, having just thrown open the door, glaring at Cecilia.
Well, it’s not unreasonable for her to glare like that. Will we be able to get along…? My worries clouded my thoughts.
I looked at Margareta, her whole body trembling with anger. Though we all wore the same neatly pressed school uniform, hers had subtle differences. The buttons looked almost the same as the original uniform, but more delicate, rimmed with gold. Her shirt, too, seemed like any other at first glance, but it was obviously tailored with far more expensive fabric and detail. Typical of Margareta.
In her hand was a pink, palm-sized bag, a limited edition made by artisan Gardner this year. Attached to it was the trendy bunny-shaped plush, which was probably an expensive artifact.
Her wavy, chestnut hair was intricately braided and pinned up beautifully. That hairstyle alone must have taken at least three hours.
Even as I tried to distract myself so I wouldn’t get caught between them, the two continued to glare at each other. I was already exhausted.
Well, after all the trouble before enrollment, it would have been silly to expect us to get along just because we were roommates.
Naturally, Cecilia’s expression wasn’t good either. For a moment, she looked flustered, then her face hardened.
“‘You,’ is it? Here at the Academy… we’re all students, so I’d appreciate it if you’d be more respectful, Miss Margareta.”
Cecilia responded without backing down. Her aquamarine eyes shone with resolve.
“Ha.”
Margareta scoffed as if incredulous, folding her arms.
She glared at Cecilia for a long moment. I thought she might say something more, but though her golden eyes burned, she left those words unspoken. Then, her gaze shifted to me.
Yikes.
Still those beast-like eyes.
I instinctively bent my knees in a slight curtsy, then straightened. It was a gesture of courtesy I’d developed as a habit.
“Hello.”
“Nice to meet you. Since we’re at the Academy, may I just call you by your name?”
Her tone was courteous. Our only interaction in society had been a passing greeting, and my only memories of her were arguing with or tormenting Cecilia, so it felt awkward.
“Yes.”
“Please call me by my name too, Liana.”
“I will.”
Maybe, just maybe, I’ll actually get along with Lady Margareta better than I thought.
Ow, her profile stung me from the side, so I snuck a glance at Cecilia—her face was blatantly sour.
What’s wrong, Cecilia? Aren’t you the type who gets along with everyone?
I just shrugged it off. Margareta smiled in satisfaction at my reply, then began to look around the room, tossing a mocking glance at the upright Cecilia.
“Cecilia, let’s unpack.”
“Okay.”
She replied weakly.
Facing the entrance was a four-seater sofa and a two-seater, arranged opposite each other, with an elongated glass table between them. On the table, a vase of vibrant purple Lafré flowers—one of the top two most popular in the Empire—brightened the room.
To the left of the sofa, three beds stood side by side, separated by lace curtains, and beige drapes hung from the full-length windows. The curtains were currently drawn back, letting in soft sunlight.
The front of the dormitory was planted with plenty of trees, so it probably wouldn’t get too hot, even in midsummer. Under the beds were three built-in wardrobes, likely enchanted to hold much more than they appeared.
I could already tell which wardrobe was mine, as my name, Liana, was faintly inscribed on it. If anyone but the owner touched it, a basic alarm would probably sound.
When I opened it, five sets of uniforms hung neatly in a row. Three different colored robes for layering, three lightweight dresses, two sets of riding clothes. And for spring and summer, five light dresses. There were also two dresses of fine, patternless fabric, like what a commoner girl might wear.
Ollie.
The plain dresses were surely Ollie’s handiwork. Was it her way of saying I could sneak out if things got stifling? As I rummaged through the dresses, I found a small note pinned inside.
I gently unfolded it, and as expected, it was written in Ollie’s handwriting.
[Only wear these when you truly can’t stand it anymore, and only go out in the daytime. Only when you can’t bear it, understood, Miss? If you start wandering around all the time, this Ollie will come to scold you, so you’d best not. The Academy city has many of the Credere family’s eyes and hands, so you should be safe—but I hope you’ll never have to wear these.
-Your loving Ollie-]
Pfft.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Inside this ordinary dress, the Credere family crest was embroidered. It was on the inside of the sleeve, so unless I deliberately showed it, no one would notice.
She must mean for me to show it if I’m ever in trouble. It would serve as proof of identity. Rather than let me get into trouble sneaking out on my own, she’d rather set things up in advance—so like Ollie.
“Liana.”
“…Huh?”
I nearly jumped in surprise. Cecilia had crept up behind me without my noticing.
“It feels like it’s been a long time since I saw you smile.”
She poked my cheek with her finger and beamed. Her aquamarine eyes crinkled gently, drawing a soft curve. Her long lashes shaded her cheeks, and her thin lips formed a pleasant arc.
It felt as if the air around Cecilia was moist and sparkling.
She was dazzling.
When she says it so happily, I can’t help but feel a little guilty.
Maybe this is exactly Cecilia’s strength.
She always made me feel as if I were special.
Phew. I steadied my fluttering heart at Cecilia’s smile.
“I smile all the time.”
“…Then smile at me more, too.”
Ugh, there’s no need to flirt even with me.
“Are you two dating or something?”
A sharp voice interrupted. Margareta, apparently done surveying the room, sat casually on the innermost bed, watching us with an incredulous look. The wooden leg of the bed she sat on seemed to glint for a moment—her name must have been inscribed on it.
“Of course not.”
That was me.
“And what if we are?”
That was Cecilia.
“Huh?”
And me again.
As I stared, wide-eyed, Cecilia leaned against me and hugged me.
Were you always this clingy, Cecilia?
How odd. Did everyone get younger or something? Maybe it’s just that we’re only thirteen…
Or maybe it’s because I’ve regressed even a few years.
‘Margareta, please bear with us…! You’re the older one, after all.’
I patted Cecilia’s shoulder and gently pushed her away, then closed the wardrobe. I wanted to admire the shoes too, but now wasn’t the time.
Margareta snorted.
“Liana doesn’t seem like the type.”
“What would you know, Margareta?”
“Wait, you two—why are you arguing?”
“We’re not arguing.”
“We’re not arguing.”
“…Right.”
Maybe they actually get along surprisingly well? Maybe this time, the two of them could become friends.
Wait, did we agree to drop honorifics?
Cecilia’s eyes looked like they’d shoot lasers. I didn’t remember her being this kind of character—why was she glaring at Margareta?
Wasn’t it you who used to reach out and apologize first? Cecilia wasn’t the type to fight with anyone, as far as I remembered.
I don’t know.
I opened the wardrobe again and pulled out a sturdy, dark grey herringbone coat and slipped it on.
If I stay here any longer, I’ll suffocate. This isn’t the kind of regression I wanted!
“Where are you going?”
Cecilia grabbed my sleeve. I brushed back her stray hair and started moving naturally.
“Out for some air. I just arrived today. I want to look around.”
“If it’s that, I’ll show you around.”
Cecilia quickly opened her own wardrobe. There were plain but high-quality dresses and robes, long cloaks with gold-thread embroidery—everything shimmered in the closet. Cecilia hastily grabbed a pure white robe.
“Miss Cecilia, do you lack any sense of awareness?”
Why! Why are you trying to start a fight again?
And why the sudden switch to formal speech?
“What do you mean, awareness?”
Cecilia frowned prettily, glaring at Margareta, but Margareta only sneered back. She leisurely untied her school scarf and jerked her chin toward me. Then, as if admitting the gesture was rude, she briefly gave me an apologetic look.
“Liana doesn’t like it, you know.”
Margareta declared flatly.
I felt a bit guilty. An awkward smile crept onto my face before I realized it. Luckily, Cecilia seemed too focused on Margareta to notice.
“Liana and I have been friends for a long time. Maybe you wouldn’t know, since you don’t have any friends, Miss Margareta…”
“How unpleasant. Are you saying I don’t have friends? Just what do you think you know about me, spouting nonsense like that? You’re getting delusions just because you hang around with a duke’s daughter?”
Cecilia’s words had struck a nerve. Margareta’s previously relaxed face changed in an instant.
She shot up and strode toward Cecilia, standing close and looking down at her. Her blazing yellow eyes seemed ready to devour Cecilia. Margareta—so hot-tempered.
“What’s that supposed to mean! I’ve never used my family’s power for my own gain!”
Cecilia protested. Her voice trembled at the end, sounding pitiful.
That’s true. Cecilia never blatantly used me for her own benefit.
As I nodded absentmindedly, Margareta’s eyes flicked to me.
It was a look as if to ask if I really believed that. But instead of pressing me, she snapped her head back toward Cecilia. The expensive pearl earring dangling from her ear swung wildly.
“That’s only what you think, Miss Cecilia.”
“What others think…”
“Doesn’t matter? So arrogant.”
Margareta cut her off, sneering.
Watching their fight… is actually kind of entertaining.
Before, I would have worried or tried to mediate. Stuck in the middle, I heard all sorts of things, but since I never raised my voice, I even ended up being called the “troubleshooter” against my will.
But after dying and coming back, these sorts of fights seemed trivial. Of course, if it happened too often, I’d get tired of it, but still.
With a bystander’s eyes, neither seemed entirely in the right. I used to think Cecilia was always the victim. Margareta had, intentionally or not, harassed her, and that was certainly wrong, but she hadn’t been like that from the very beginning.
It occurred to me that, maybe at first, Margareta had her own reasons for resentment.
“Do you think the whole world revolves around you? That as long as it’s not you, it doesn’t matter?”
Cecilia clamped her mouth shut, glaring at Margareta.
Her watery blue eyes were brimming. Margareta leaned in even closer.
“So why do you talk so carelessly about other people’s friends?”
She spoke softly, almost in a whisper, but the anger in her voice was unmistakable. Margareta was trembling slightly.
When it came to Margareta’s friends, only her usual entourage came to mind… was there some story there?
Cecilia’s quivering gaze turned toward me. I heard Margareta exhale sharply, almost as if scoffing.
“Enough, both of you.”
I stepped between them.
“Is Miss Cecilia so helpless without Liana? Are you her guardian or something?”
“Margareta, you don’t need to go that far. That’s enough.”
“Liana.”
“Cecilia, stop. Honestly, I think you both overstepped. We have to live in the same room from now on—wouldn’t it be troublesome to start out like this? You don’t have to apologize, but at least let’s end it here.”
They didn’t answer. It’s not like I was asking them to apologize.
Margareta straightened up, no longer leaning toward Cecilia. Her eyes still blazed, but with her mouth firmly shut, it seemed she was done arguing. Cecilia looked a little wronged, but she also seemed to have lost the will to fight.
“I’ll be back soon.”
“I’ll go with you—”
Margareta raised an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘Wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?’ I glanced back at her, trying to look casual. Ha.
“Cecilia.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
Watching them fight was entertaining, but the thought that I’d always be the one mediating left me tired. Though Cecilia looked reluctant, she nodded.
“…Alright.”
“You’ll have to come back to this room anyway.”
“Okay, see you.”
Once again, I thought I heard Margareta snort.
“I’ll be back.”
I said lightly, turning my back to them. Don’t fight, you two!
The dormitory was shaped like a square, with five rooms and two magic elevators per corridor. I took the central elevator down to the first floor.
The dormitory was quiet. Most students had moved in yesterday and were resting today. Still, as I entered the hallway, I heard some chatter—at least there were some people around.
“This feels strange.”
I remembered the excitement I felt the first time I entered the Academy.
What was it like back then? Full of excitement, thrilled to be admitted at the top of my class, watching Cecilia take the stage as student representative, filled with admiration. A mix of envy, a hint of jealousy, loneliness, and also pride and joy.
Why was Cecilia so happy to run to me after coming down from the stage, even when the applause was full of envy and jealousy? Where did that pure feeling go?
Why was I so lonely right before my regression? I didn’t even want to think about it. I don’t know where things started to go wrong, or how to fix them.
That’s why, coward that I am, I just wanted to keep my distance from Cecilia.
Am I a bad person?
“Where are you going?”
A sudden voice startled me.