“H-how is that impressive?!”
“Count Floret! I knew you’d return safely!”
Giselle greeted him with a bright smile, but Abisan pouted and muttered under his breath, ruining the moment.
“…Tsk, what a show-off. Uncle, I’m better than her!”
Count Floret, who had been observing Abisan with an indifferent expression, spoke firmly.
“Abisan, Giselle. Light magic isn’t something just anyone can use. While it’s a basic type of magic, only those with exceptionally pure mana can create such beautiful light.”
Giselle crossed her arms confidently and tilted her head smugly.
“Oh, is that so? Then, Abisan, what are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to kneel?”
“…W-what?”
“You promised, didn’t you? If you lost to me, you’d kneel.”
Abisan, caught off guard, sneered nervously.
“What? When? I don’t even remember agreeing to any bet!”
“Oh, then let me jog your memory.”
With a casual flick of her fingers, a gust of wind blew fiercely toward Abisan, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling to his knees.
“Ugh, aagh!”
“I helped you kneel! Now you remember, right?”
“Ugh, my knee!”
Abisan looked at his knees, trembling. The sight of blood dripping from his precious knees left him utterly shocked, as though it were a matter of life and death.
“What have you done to my precious son’s knees, Giselle Floret?! Did you use wind magic?!”
“M-mother, sniff…”
“You!”
Mariposa gritted her teeth and scolded Giselle sharply.
“Even if Abisan isn’t your blood relative, how can you behave so cruelly toward him?”
“Yes~ Giselle is sooo cruel~!”
Using a tone you’d never hear from a high-society lady, Giselle’s mocking words practically screamed, ‘Go ahead, punish me if you dare.’
Mariposa, feeling a surge of anger, burst out.
“How dare she act like this…! Haa, brother, I’m sorry. Giselle, do you remember?”
“Hmm? Remember what?”
“That you caused a scene on the day your engagement was announced. Were you that overwhelmed?”
Count Floret’s gaze turned icy.
“They announced an engagement?”
“Yes.”
“When? Without my consent? Announcing Giselle’s engagement without even consulting me—is that what happened?”
I smirked. Perfect. I knew Mariposa would blurt out something reckless in her anger. At least Count Floret, for now, had no prejudices against me.
“Yes! Lady Mariposa told me to marry a man 30 years older than me!”
“…I only arranged the match because he was an excellent person aside from his age! Giselle, you wanted it yourself, didn’t you?”
“Huh? When did I ever say that?”
Count Floret’s expression remained unreadable, but his voice was sharp as he addressed Mariposa.
“Mariposa. Do you truly believe it’s appropriate to pair a child with a man 30 years her senior?”
Mariposa stammered, trying to change the subject.
“M-my apologies, brother. I must’ve mistakenly thought Giselle wasn’t thinking clearly because she seemed so troubled lately… Of course, it’s not right!”
He stared coldly at his sister before speaking again.
“Don’t ever do something like that again.”
“I’m sorry. But, brother! Giselle’s misdeeds were all over the newspapers. I’ve worked hard to restore the family’s reputation. Please understand that much!”
As Mariposa began to ramble indignantly about everything that had happened, Count Floret responded curtly.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, such significant misconduct—”
As Count Floret listened to the detailed account of Giselle’s actions, his expression shifted constantly. By the time Mariposa concluded her report with a self-satisfied smile, the Count wore an expression of curiosity.
“Giselle, you truly are the daughter of Count Sehera.”
“…Excuse me? Brother?”
Count Floret didn’t even bother looking directly at his sister.
“This brings back memories.”
At that moment, Giselle became absolutely convinced.
‘As I thought, my biological father really was a lunatic.’
Her suspicion had already been confirmed by a flashback in a past side story:
—
[“You **! You ** bastard! **! **!”
As Count Sehera rampaged, Count Floret watched with a deeply satisfied expression.
“Count Floret, are you alright?”
“Yes. I find my friend’s behavior to be truly beautiful.”
“…You’re mocking him, aren’t you?”
Even as they spoke, objects from the magic tower continued to shatter in Count Sehera’s grip.
“Ah, you **! **-ing ** people! **!”
“There are times when I wish I could live recklessly and curse like that too.”]
—
In short:
“Both my father and Count Floret are lunatics.”
Unlike most protagonists in romance-fantasy novels who flatter their allies, act cute, or raise their reputation to survive, Giselle had a different strategy.
‘If I keep acting like a troublemaker, they’ll say I’m just like my father, and I’ll get closer to my allies while my reputation improves.’
Compared to other transmigrated or reincarnated protagonists, her journey felt almost effortless. But she wasn’t complaining.
‘Life’s way more fun when it’s easy.’
At that moment, Count Floret approached Giselle purposefully. Startled, she momentarily forgot to act cheerful and blinked at him in surprise.
“You truly take after your father.”
His eyes softened with nostalgia, as if he were recalling a distant memory. He placed a necklace—a keepsake from Count Sehera—around Giselle’s neck himself.
“You are the rightful owner of this keepsake, no, this necklace. Take it.”
A faint smile graced his lips—a sight so rare that Mariposa, Abisan, and even the original Giselle had hardly ever seen it. Everyone froze, stunned.
“Would you care to join me for a walk?”
Recovering first, Giselle beamed and nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes! I’d love to!”
—
“Good heavens! Who knew Giselle could use magic like that? Mother, did you see it when I knelt? It was like a full-blown typhoon!”
“Stop making a fuss, Abisan. Do you have no dignity?”
“Dignity? Mother, what does that even mean?”
Mariposa clenched her fists, barely able to contain her growing fury, her bloodshot eyes fixed on Giselle from afar.
Her ultimate goal was for Abisan to become the head of the Floret family. The biggest obstacle to that goal? Giselle, the Count’s adopted daughter.
She had deliberately tried to suppress Giselle’s abilities and reputation within the household. But now?
“How does she have such power? I was planning to marry her off to some insignificant family!”
Unable to hold back her anger, Mariposa trembled. Nearby, her clueless son exclaimed in awe.
“Mother, my teacher said that only people with exceptionally pure mana have the potential to become Grand Mages! What if Giselle becomes a Grand Mage? What if she takes revenge on us?”
A Grand Mage was a figure of immense prestige, cherished as a national treasure within the empire. Mariposa muttered to herself as she watched Giselle laughing cheerfully during her walk with the Count.
“That’ll never happen. Giselle is just Giselle. Stupid Giselle.”
—
Walking alone with Count Floret, Giselle tried her best to stay composed, but her heart was pounding. The Count asking about her well-being? That was unheard of.
“Giselle, have you been well?”
Her heart skipped a beat. His concern for her was entirely new. Naturally, she responded the only way she
knew how:
“Yes, except for when Lady Mariposa tried to marry me off to Viscount Milpianne.”
Snitching first is just common sense, isn’t it?
