Chapter 1

A girl who looked like a fluffy ball of cotton candy was giving strict orders to the maids with the most serious expression she could muster.

“We’re going out right now. Get everything ready!”

But the maids’ faces were filled with barely contained smiles. Despite her stern expression, the girl with pink hair and rosy eyes looked as cute as a single blooming flower. Like cherry blossoms in spring that warm the air around them, she brought a gentle breeze into everyone’s hearts.

“What kind of disaster is happening this morning because of my brother…”

The girl pouted her lips, shaking her head as if she couldn’t help it. Even that made the servants clutch their chests from the sheer cuteness.

But the girl’s expression was peculiar. She didn’t seem triumphant at their reactions—she looked tired of it, as if thinking, “They’re doing it again.” And there was something about her eyes—an odd sense of maturity not fitting for her age.

“Miss, shall we change you into your outing dress?”

“Mm. Please do.”

The girl—me—sat primly on a chair. As a maid brushed my hair, she said, “You must be happy to see Young Master Piote again after so long.”

“I couldn’t see him last time.”

I scratched my cheek shyly. That girl was me—Lepina Clies.

At the count’s household, I was rumored to be a fairy who brought happiness with my canary-like laughter. Truly… even thinking about it now makes me want to crawl under a rock. Canary-like laughter? Fairy? Who even came up with that? Anyway, as the beloved only daughter of House Clies, I lived a fairly charmed life.

In my previous life, I had worked nonstop just to make money. After dying, my luck finally turned. At first, I definitely remembered dying, but I still had consciousness. When I opened my eyes, strangers were pointing at me and calling me Lepina.

They all had hair and eyes of various colors. Shocked, I burst into loud tears.

When I suddenly began sobbing, people panicked, pacing in circles. The way my parents and older brother desperately tried to calm me down is still vivid in my mind.

‘I really was so flustered back then…’

And when I saw my reflection in the mirror, pink everywhere nearly gave me a heart attack. Me—who always kept pink as far away as possible—reborn as a pink-themed child? Hand-curling embarrassment.

Anyway, I was born again with all my memories intact. For some reason, that “Spring of Forgetfulness” this world supposedly had didn’t work on me.

This place was very different from the world of my past life. It felt like something lifted straight out of a novel.

I used to read a lot of stories—especially ones about people reincarnating into books or fictional worlds. My heart raced as I wondered, “Did I…?!” But no matter how hard I thought, I couldn’t recall any story like this.

I had read them all so long ago. Eventually, I gave up trying to remember.

‘Whether it’s a book world or not—who cares? My life’s peaceful.’

I lived comfortably in a noble family without worrying about money. My kind parents and gentle brother showered me with love. Sometimes I wondered if I saved a nation in my previous life to deserve this.

Twelve years passed. And today, that love was giving me a headache.

“Seriously… what’s the point of arriving early? A promise is a promise, dear brother.”

How had he caused trouble? My troublemaking brother, Piote Clies, had sent a telegram saying he was arriving four days earlier than planned. Normally he arrived only two days early, but this time was even worse.

I knew the reason.

During the swordsmanship tournament, I caught a fever and couldn’t go cheer for him. Meaning: he hadn’t seen me, and now he was desperate.

‘Being loved too much is its own problem.’

Annoying… but not unpleasant.

According to the original schedule, I was supposed to buy his gift today while leisurely browsing the city. But because of his early arrival, the plan fell apart. On top of that, my parents had urgent matters and left the house.

So I had to hurry. It would be lonely if he came home to an empty house.

He had probably exhausted himself studying, which didn’t suit him at all. I didn’t want him returning to a cold home with no one there.

Oh, and even after being reborn, I couldn’t escape school. All nobles were required to enter the academy at thirteen. Basically, it was a school. Just thinking about it made me sigh.

I soon arrived at the bustling shopping district.

“Miss, do you have a gift in mind?”

“Hmm… I’d like to get him a fountain pen, but…”

My brother liked physical activity far more.

Father often fretted about it. Despite being the heir, Piote had been obsessed with the sword since childhood and had declared early on he would become a knight.

‘Though I was happy when he swore he’d protect me…’

Thanks to that determination, he placed second in the academy’s swordsmanship tournament this year. Achieving second place only two years in—our family had gone wild with celebration.

‘Come to think of it, I heard the winner was his age too…’

Well, that was for later.

“Since he got second place, wouldn’t a sword be better?”

“How about buying both?”

“That’s a great idea. Thanks, Mary.”

I readily accepted Mary’s suggestion. Who said a gift had to be only one?

“Let’s buy the fountain pen first.”

Swords were heavy; start with the lightweight item. The carriage glided toward the shop I wanted.

Father often visited this shop: it wasn’t flashy, but its subtle patterns and quality craftsmanship made it one of my favorites.

The bell chimed as I entered.

“Welcome.”

The clerk hurried over politely.

“Ah, Lady Clies. You came alone today?”

“Yes.”

Another reason the shop did well—excellent service. Since I sometimes accompanied Father here, the clerk recognized me instantly. Small touches like that boosted customer satisfaction.

“I’d like to look at your fountain pens.”

“Right this way.”

He guided me to a display of various fountain pens. I told him price didn’t matter—what mattered was durability.

My brother had broken pens by accident more times than I could count. So durability was priority number one.

While I was smiling at the perfect choice, I noticed a display of women’s jewelry beside us. That was strange—the shop didn’t sell women’s items.

As if sensing my question, the clerk approached.

“Ah, those are test-market necklaces. The owner plans to expand the shop if the response is good. We’ll gradually increase women’s products as well, so please visit us often.”

The test necklaces were lovely—pink diamond pendants, the sort most girls would like.

Mary, seeing my interest, seemed to think I wanted one.

“It would suit you so well, miss. Shall we buy one?”

“I don’t need it.”

I shuddered. How many pink accessories did I already have…? My parents and brother insisted pink was “the color born for me,” so my wardrobe was overflowing with pink dresses and jewelry.

After paying for the fountain pen, I headed out—when I noticed a boy standing in front of the pink necklaces, looking conflicted.

My steps halted.

Silver hair like white sands, eyes like violet amethyst. A boy so beautiful he looked sculpted by a meticulous god. Clear features, long lashes faintly shimmering—enough to make any girl’s heart tremble…

“Miss?”

“Huh?”

“Is something wrong?”

I had been staring at the boy without realizing it. Flustered, I waved it off and walked away quickly.

This silly face-weakness of mine never goes away. Why is everyone in this world so good-looking? That boy was definitely my type. Way too much.

“If only my real age weren’t…”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.”

If I added my past and current life, my age was… no, let’s not.

‘But he looked familiar somehow…?’

I glanced back, but the passing carriage obscured him. Probably just my imagination.

***

But I ran into the same boy again sooner than expected—much sooner than I ever thought I would.

“Um…”

With a slightly troubled smile, the boy looked more handsome than anyone I had ever seen.

We had both picked up the same sword, and our hands overlapped—technically, mine was on top since I grabbed it later.

I kept staring at his face, unable to pull my hand away. Yes. Still handsome. And definitely familiar-looking…

“Um…”

“Ah! I’m sorry. Were you planning to buy this sword? I’m fine! I’ll pick another. Then—”

His voice snapped me back to reality. I looked down at our hands—still touching—and jumped as I pulled mine away. My face flushed red. He probably noticed I had been staring dumbly at him.

In truth, I hadn’t meant to buy the sword. Something about it felt familiar, so I reached for it without thinking. But it was old and too worn to be a proper gift. It had been sitting in a barrel of unsold, low-quality swords.

I quickly tried to leave—but the boy caught my wrist.