TNDOBM 05

Chapter 05

Never mind Cecilia’s actual attitude—she unhesitatingly used the same address she had once bestowed upon her immature younger brother.

Not particularly surprised by the harsh language, Knox finally let go and stepped back.

“Ta-da! All better now. See? You can always count on your big brother, right?”

Saying things like that.

*’Seeing as he’s not surprised, it seems the original Cecilia’s attitude was similar to mine now.’*

Brothers and sisters really were alike, it seemed.

*’Some romantic lead brother, my foot.’*

The very idea of having an affectionate sibling relationship was the most terrifying thing of all.

“If you’re just going to keep talking nonsense, get out of my way.”

Cecilia, changing her attitude like turning her hand over, brushed past him and entered the dining room.

At the head of the unnecessarily long dining table, the head of the Weberdin Marquisate, Patrick, who had the same golden hair as his children, was already seated.

As Cecilia took the empty seat on the right, the Marquis spoke to her as if he had been waiting.

“You were exchanging greetings with your brother for quite a while.”

It seemed he had heard all the nonsense exchanged with Knox.

“I’m sorry. That is, my brother wouldn’t let go of my head.”

“…Your head?”

After a small cough, the Marquis asked about her health.

“Ahem! Anyway, I heard you’ve been taking frequent walks lately. Has your health improved? No problems?”

Having suffered from a severe fever, the Marquis would often check on her health like this whenever he encountered Cecilia in the vast mansion.

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

Since Cecilia’s ‘body’ was perfectly fine, it wasn’t a lie.

“What a pity—I mean, what a relief that you’ve become more resilient than expected.”

Knox, who had followed in, added nonchalantly as he took his seat on the left.

“Knox.”

Giving a slight glare to his son who just shrugged, the Marquis turned his head back to Cecilia.

“That’s a relief.”

In his calm voice, she could feel his heavy affection for his daughter.

‘Ah.’

Suddenly, her mouth felt scratchy, as if she had swallowed sand.

Because the person standing before his eyes now wasn’t his beloved daughter, but merely a stranger from another world.

At first, she had trembled with anxiety, solely afraid that her identity might be exposed.

Not knowing Cecilia’s original personality, she had no choice but to maintain a distant, evasive attitude.

Yet, when she didn’t arouse even a hint of suspicion, an awkward discomfort grew instead.

Perhaps it was a feeling akin to guilt.

*’I’ll find a way to get out of your daughter’s body soon.’*

She swallowed the apology she couldn’t bring herself to voice.

While Cecilia, lowering her head, mindlessly massacred the greens served as an appetizer due to her complicated feelings, the Marquis continued his conversation with Knox.

“Is the capital still the same?”

“Yes. Still a bloodbath, as ever.”

“And the approval?”

As for what ‘approval’ meant, Knox furrowed his brow slightly for the first time.

“I requested it, but was refused. His Majesty said that if I want the approval, the person in question must come up to the imperial capital themselves.”

“Ha, it seems His Majesty wishes to engage in pointless psychological warfare. Just thinking about what those Dilanshae bastards might do gives me a headache already.”

Having apparently lost his appetite, Patrick put down his knife and fork and clicked his tongue in displeasure.

*’Dilanshae? And approval… Is it about the approval related to the successor?’*

Cecilia, who had been quietly eavesdropping, abruptly stopped her fork.

Though she still didn’t know much about this place, from her various investigations while seeking a way back, she knew that the imperial family and the temple were currently in opposition.

Therefore, the holy house ‘Weberdin’ naturally had a bad relationship with the imperial family.

*’So the imperial family shouldn’t be able to interfere in the Weberdin’s selection of a successor, right?’*

Just then, the Marquis, pressing his temples as if troubled, spoke.

“Cecilia.”

“Yes?”

Cecilia, who had been lost in thought, snapped her head up.

Two pairs of eyes were now fixed on her.

“The Relief Festival is less than a month away, so… this time, you must attend in the name of Weberdin.”

“Huh?”

The Relief Festival was an annual event hosted by the temple. It was a large-scale volunteer activity where the temple opened its granaries to provide food to the hungry, and the priests personally treated the sick.

As it was considered the second-largest event after Foundation Day, the attendance of the ‘saint,’ who was essentially the face of the temple, was mandatory.

She understood that she had to participate in the Relief Festival since she had recovered her health, but she couldn’t understand why he was bringing it up so suddenly.

Most importantly…

“Not as a saint, you mean?”

Attend in the name of Weberdin, not as a saint.

When she asked back in bewilderment, Knox let out a light sigh.

“I told you I couldn’t get the approval.”

“Approval?”

“Cecilia, it means that to be approved as a full-fledged saint, you have to go to the imperial capital yourself and meet His Majesty.”

‘What?’

Cecilia couldn’t believe her ears.

‘To be approved as a full-fledged saint.’ Didn’t that sound like she wasn’t currently a saint?

“Wh-what are you saying? That I’m not exactly a saint right now?”

When she stammered at the shocking news, the Marquis immediately nodded as if she were asking something obvious.

“It’s displeasing, but for now, that’s the case.”

*Clang!*

The fork finally fell from Cecilia’s hand.

What in the world is this, Lord Marquis! You’re telling me I’m a fake saint?!

—

“A fake, you say…”

After the meal ended ambiguously, Cecilia wandered aimlessly through the garden, like someone who had lost something important.

Her walking companion, Charles, rubbed against her feet offering comfort, but it didn’t reach her at all.

It wasn’t that she was attached to the authority or position of being a saint, but…

‘If that’s the case, why have I been locked up here all this time?!’

Above all, the very fact that Cecilia was a ‘fake saint’ was shocking in itself.

‘You should have just not called me a saint in the first place!’

Cecilia had learned she was a saint right after going through Plans B and C.

For reference, Plan B was to keep trying to fall asleep without leaving the bed until she woke up from this long dream, and Plan C was to deliver a strong impact to her head.

After proceeding through Plan B and on to C, priests had naturally appeared before her.

[You say the Saintess has injured her head?]

[Yes, it’s very serious.]

[Hmm, though the skin is torn, it’s not a deep wound. As expected of one blessed by God, even when in an accident…]

[She struck her own head with a stone.]

[Oh, my God!]

All to treat both the outside and inside of her own head.

[If the Saintess’s body were to be scarred, God would be deeply saddened.]

The priests who had come in droves had rained down a torrent of nagging and left, so…

‘Of course, I thought she was a real saint.’

And it was precisely because of this position that she was sure the genre was a romance fantasy if the book-possession theory was correct.

‘But concerning the fact that I was fake.’

When she pressed Melanie for answers, she learned that if no one with outstanding divine power appeared, the title of ‘saint’ was bestowed upon the eldest daughter of the Weberdin family, a holy house that had long supported the temple.

After that, she had to receive the emperor’s approval to be officially appointed as a saint.

[Since no one surpassing the Weberdin family’s divine power has appeared for three generations, I’m sure Cecilia will become the saint this time too!]

Though Melanie had boasted confidently, Cecilia was actually skeptical.

Because in novels with this kind of setup, the real saint always appeared later!

“Then is the real saint the protagonist?”

Cecilia, lost in thought, realized something and let out a short exclamation.

“Ha, I guess I am the protagonist after all.”

Wasn’t the trend these days villainess possession stories!

It might be the kind of story where the possessed fake saint, before the real saint appears, does all sorts of things for her own safety and eventually becomes the true protagonist.

‘Anyway, if it really is a book possession, maybe I can go back if I see the ending.’

The confusion was brief; Cecilia quickly formulated a new hypothesis, Plan E.

Originally, Plan D was to ‘enjoy herself until she could go back’.

In other words, the more new plans she had for a way back, the better.

But even Plan E, to see the story’s ending, faced a big wall.

‘Namely, the problem is my empty head.’

If only Cecilia’s memories had been patched like the language patch.

To advance the story, a trip to the capital was indispensable, but the problem was that she knew nothing about etiquette or dancing.

A prince who perfectly leads a clumsy protagonist only exists in fairy tales, and she’d clearly be looked down upon by both her partner and the surrounding nobles.

‘My fork dance from kindergarten talent shows will be the most useless knowledge yet, but I have no choice.’

She’d just have to ask the Marquis to find her a teacher.

“To have to study even here…”

And useless knowledge at that—things like noble greetings and social dances that would be worthless once she returned to reality.

As she continued her meaningless lamenting.

“Meow!”

Charles, who had been walking briskly a step ahead, let out a small cry, drawing her attention.

“Charles?”

Then, as if showing off, he turned his body in a familiar direction.

Cecilia, guessing where those small paw prints would lead, belatedly reached out her hand.

“Charles! We can’t go today!”

Any excitement she’d felt about a picnic or the like had evaporated long ago.

Above all, perhaps because she’d just been hit with the harsh reality she had to navigate going forward, she wasn’t in the mood for any tricks.

However, Charles, showing off his unnecessarily clever intelligence, disappeared with a swish.

Right towards the spot with the dog door.