THE REBORN LADY IS LOVED BY HER FOSTER BROTHER: THE SCARIEST VILLAIN

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Chapter 180: A World That Might Have Been

“It seems my lady is fretting over trivialities once again.”

“Trivial? ...This is important to me, you know!”

“Then you must talk it through.”

Lucien spoke with an unusually serious tone.

“No matter how long you spend pacing around in circles in your own head, you’ll only end up right back where you started. To break that deadlock, the key is to take the plunge and have an honest, heart-to-heart conversation with someone close to you. ...Or so it said in a psychology book I read once.”

“...You’re surprisingly studious, aren’t you, Lucien?”

“Why, of course. Human beings are utterly fascinating to me, after all.”

‘...I really don't understand how a demon thinks.’

Looking at the beaming smile on Lucien’s face, Ortansia couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

“Now then, allow me to offer a helping hand to our troubled young lady—”

Lucien reached his hand out, as if intending to pat Ortansia on the head. But before his fingers could touch her, Gérard grabbed his wrist with tremendous force, halting him in his tracks.

“...Did you not hear me tell you not to touch her?”

“Lord Gérard, if I were an ordinary human, my bones would be crushed to splinters right now. Perhaps you should exercise a little more restraint.”

“There is no need. Anyone who touches Ortansia without permission deserves to have every bone in their body broken.”

“...Goodness. It truly baffles me how little of that obsession carries over to the young lady. What the two of you lack, as I thought, is communication.”

Accepting defeat, Lucien withdrew his hand, then launched into an explanation with a smug look on his face.

“The reason the two of you cannot leave this place... is likely because you have lost sight of the place you ought to return to.”

“What did you say...?”

As Gérard let out a dissatisfied growl, Lucien smirked slyly.

“My, do you not have a clue?”

“We only have one place to return to.”

“...It may well be that Lord Gérard is the only one who thinks so, you know?”

At Lucien’s meaningful words, Gérard seemed momentarily at a loss for speech, which is rare for him.

“The compass in this realm is a strong desire, a longing to head toward the place you ought to go, the place you ought to return to. If your heart wavers, you will wander endlessly without reaching anywhere at all. That is simply how this place works.”

“Ah...”

It struck a chord with Ortansia.

Once before, when she fell into this space, the Dimensional Rift—on her way back from the Spirit Realm, a path had appeared the moment she wished with all her heart: I want to return to the ducal estate, to Gérard.

The reason she couldn't do that now was, just as Lucien said, because her heart was wavering.

Judging by Gérard's attitude earlier, his mind was already set.

...The one wavering is me.

As Ortansia fell silent, Lucien spoke to her with unexpected gentleness.

“It seems my lady has her own hesitations. While it would be entertaining to watch things grow even more tangled, if you desire a swift resolution, talking it out is still your best option.”

“...Yeah.”

Ortansia nodded meekly. She knew all too well that staying like this would get them nowhere.

“Well then, I shall take my leave here. I wish you the best of luck.”

With those words, Lucien turned his back on Ortansia and Gérard, preparing to walk away.

Ortansia panicked and called out to his retreating back. “Where are you going, Lucien?”

“Who knows? Until I gather my power again, I won't even be able to plot any mischief. I’ll simply wander as I please, wherever the wind blows and my whims take me.”

Without looking back, he waved a casual hand and vanished into the distance.

Ortansia stole a glance up at Gérard beside her.

He was indeed watching Lucien’s departure, but he seemed somewhat distant, as if his mind were elsewhere, distracted by another thought entirely.

Eventually, Lucien’s figure disappeared completely, leaving Ortansia and Gérard alone together once more.

Breaking the awkward silence that settled over them was, surprisingly, Gérard.

“...Sit.”

Saying so, he removed his coat and spread it over the ground.

The snow falling here wasn't real snow. It wasn't cold to the touch, and sitting directly on it shouldn't have been a problem. Even so, Ortansia felt a surge of happiness at his thoughtfulness.

She sat down gently, and Gérard sank down right beside her.

...It seemed Gérard, too, intended to talk things through just as Lucien had suggested.

‘...Right. It's my fault we can't leave this place.’

She knew her heart was torn, but she had no idea what to do about it.

“...Do you...”

Gérard murmured quietly out of nowhere.

“...not want to go back to our world?”

She had known he would ask that.

After all, Gérard’s goal was to get out of here, and the only reason they couldn't return to their original world was because of her.

There was no point in dodging the question now. Giving up, Ortansia slowly began to pour her heart out, piece by piece.

“It’s not... that I don't want to go back.”

If anything, when she had been stuck in that world, all she had wished for was to return. To go back to the ducal estate where everyone was, where Gérard was.

But... was she really allowed to do that?

In the world created by the devil, Ortansia had learned the truth.

...She learned that if her mother, Bernadette, had never met the Duke of Vérité, peace and happiness would have filled the ducal household. That there was a future where Gérard could have grown up gently, without ever freezing his heart away.

Even if she shared no blood with her father, as Bernadette’s daughter and a fake ducal lady, it was no exaggeration to say that Ortansia was the root cause of the ducal house’s ruin.

Could someone like her really go back to the estate acting as if nothing had happened?

She was terrified that, without even realizing it, she might steal away her father’s and brother’s happiness all over again.

“If my mama had never met Father, perhaps the Duchess wouldn't have fallen ill. If so, you wouldn't have had to suffer through such painful times, Brother. Maybe, instead of an adopted child like me, there would have been a real daughter of the house. ...A world like that might have existed.”

A happy House of Vérité, where Ortansia didn't exist.

Now that she knew of that possibility, she could no longer turn a blind eye to it.

“That was the world you were meant to live in, Brother. You were supposed to be happy there.”

He could have lived a happy life, wrapped in warm love.

...And the ones who might have stolen that away were her and her mother.

Pausing occasionally as her voice hitched, Ortansia let the words spill out.

Gérard remained quietly still, listening intently to everything she said.

When she finally finished speaking, what awaited her... was a deep, heavy sigh from Gérard.

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