Half a month after transmigrating.
The west lawn of the Aldheim Ducal Manor.
The sunlight was unbelievably beautiful.
A May breeze blew in from afar, carrying the sweet, cloying fragrance of the rose garden. The sky was a translucent blue, with a few white clouds drifting lazily like marshmallows someone had carelessly tossed into the air.
And I, Loris von Aldheim.
I was currently standing in the middle of the lawn, gripping an iron sword taller than myself with both hands, drenched in sweat and my arms aching.
“...I can't do this anymore.”
I lowered the sword, rested my hands on my knees, and panted heavily.
It was so heavy.
So tiring.
I really wanted to go home and play video games.
—No, wait, there are no video games in this world.
I really want to die.
Actually, no, I don't want to die.
I want to live.
That is why I was currently standing under the blazing sun like an idiot, holding up an iron sword. Because I didn't want to die.
“...Milady, you lasted less than a minute.”
A cold voice came from behind me.
I turned around.
Standing in the shade at the edge of the lawn was a woman.
She was just over 1.6 meters tall, wearing a sharply tailored, deep blue belted robe with tight cuffs for ease of movement.
A rapier hung at her waist.
Her long, silvery-white hair was tied into a high ponytail at the back of her head, its ends reaching down to her waist, fluttering in the wind like a banner.
But none of these were the most eye-catching thing about her.
It was her horns.
Two jet-black horns, curving slightly backward, extended from the sides of her forehead like a demon from some ancient coat of arms.
A half-demon.
Her name was Shirune.
She was a bodyguard hired at a premium by my family—the Aldheim Ducal House.
To be precise, she was my “Guardian Knight.”
There was an ancient covenant between her family and the Aldheim family, originating hundreds of years ago.
Her mother had served my great-grandfather's generation, and now her generation had passed down to serve me.
Every firstborn of the Aldheim family would have a Guardian Knight from this half-demon family.
Sounds pretty cool, right?
In truth, it really was cool.
Shirune could swing an iron sword with one hand that I couldn't even lift with both. She could cleave a training dummy in half with a single strike, and her speed was so fast my eyes could barely keep up.
She knew swordsmanship, magic, horsemanship, wilderness survival, poison identification, and—well, basically everything.
She was practically a human Gundam.
“L-Let me rest a bit longer...”
I weakly raised a hand, trying to bargain.
Shirune didn't say anything, looking troubled.
She just stared at me quietly, her face devoid of any emotion.
After a long pause, she spoke up helplessly anyway:
“Ten seconds left.”
“...Huh?”
“Nine.”
“Wait, wait, wait—”
“Eight.”
I hurriedly hoisted the sword back up.
Damn.
This woman is a devil.
No, wait, she actually is a half-demon.
—But coming back to it.
How did I end up in this state today?
Rewinding time by ten days.
That night, I was lying in my bed—which was large enough to sleep five people—staring at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.
It wasn't because the bed was uncomfortable.
It was because I was terrified of dying.
The incident with my little brother had ended on a pleasant note, but it also made me fully realize that the path of altering the plot was not going to be easy.
The will of heaven did not allow me to “become good.”
It demanded that I be “evil.”
So, I could only sneakily stuff a little bit of “good” inside the “evil” without triggering the warning.
It was like secretly swapping out the filling of a sandwich cookie; it still looked like the same cookie on the outside, but the taste would be completely different once you bit into it.
But was this really enough?
Even if I turned my brother into an ally, even if I carefully avoided all the flags for bullying the heroine, and even if I used a hundred different ways to hide a filling of “goodness” inside a shell of “evil”—
If the general direction didn't change, wouldn't I still end up with a GG? What if, on that day, the male lead's sword still pointed at me anyway?
Try to convince him?
“Um, actually, I'm a good person. Although it looked like I bullied the heroine on the surface, I had my reasons—”
Damn.
Probably no one would believe me.
The things the villainess did in the game were truly rotten to the core, the absolute worst of the worst. I figured this level of plot-line alteration would be extremely hard to redeem myself with.
Therefore, I think I need a second path.
Force.
If the plot really reached that worst-case scenario and the sword still pointed at me that day—
At least I would need to be able to run away.
Or block it.
Or... fight back?
You have to understand, the Aldheim family was one of the top noble houses in the kingdom. As the eldest daughter of the family, the education I had received since childhood was strictly that of a lady.
Etiquette, history, music, painting, dance, social rhetoric—
None of it had anything to do with combat ability.
After all, according to the “normal” noble daughter's path, Loris was destined for a political marriage in the future.
She would marry some prince or the heir of some great noble family, have a few children, shine brightly during the social season, and live out a wealthy yet boring life.
...Though it's hard to keep a straight face saying it, I am Loris now.
I'm in despair, exhausted.
This kind of development is just too tragic.
But the point is—one still has to live. This is probably why Yu Hua's novel To Live is such a bestseller.
If I only relied on the little trick of hiding “goodness” inside a shell of “evil” to alter the plot line during this period, it felt no different from waiting for death.
I didn't want to wait for death.
I wanted to struggle; even a salted fish can flip over!
So, I needed strength.
And as luck would have it—
My family happened to have a human Gundam.
First thing the next morning, I went to find my father.
To be precise, “Loris's” father.
The Duke of Aldheim, a high-ranking minister of the kingdom, a man whose territory spanned an entire province.
He spent most of the year in the royal capital handling government affairs, only occasionally returning to his fief. This time just happened to be one of his short stays at the manor.
Honestly, I was very nervous.
According to my memories, the original owner's relationship with her father couldn't be described as good.
It wasn't that her father abused her.
Although the Duke was a stern man of few words, he never withheld anything she was entitled to. He was simply too busy—so busy that he had almost no time to pay attention to his daughter.
He probably knew a bit about the original owner's arrogant and domineering behavior, but whether he felt “that's just how nobles should be” or simply had no time to care, he had never seriously disciplined Loris.
In a sense, this father also bore some responsibility for how the original owner had turned out so monstrous.
But that wasn't my concern right now.
Right now, I just needed his nod of approval.
“You want to learn swordsmanship?”
In the study, the Duke of Aldheim sat behind a wide oak desk. The old man held a document in his hands, not even looking up.
His voice was very low, like distant rolling thunder.
“Y-Yes, Father.”
I tried my best to keep my voice from trembling.
So terrifying.
Just sitting there, this man exuded an oppressive pressure. Even though he did nothing, it felt as if half the air had been sucked out of the room, making it hard to breathe.
The Duke raised his eyes and cast a glance at me.
It was a very strange look.
It didn't feel like he was looking at his own daughter, but rather at an object... one he wasn't quite satisfied with, but could still use.
“Why?” he asked.
I had prepared my answer long ago.
“Because I am the eldest daughter of the Aldheim family.” I straightened my posture, speaking in the original owner's haughty tone. “I am already tired of learning etiquette and dance. As a woman who will stand beside the throne in the future, merely knowing these is not enough.”
Silence.
The Duke put down the document in his hand and truly looked at me for the first time.
His gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds, as if confirming something. Probably thinking that girls are always curious about novel things, he gave a slight nod and granted his permission.
“Shirune.”
“Present.”
A cold voice echoed from the shadows in the corner of the study.
I jumped.
She was there the whole time?!
“Starting tomorrow, teach Milady the basics of swordsmanship and magic.”
“...Understood.”
In the shadows, those crimson eyes flickered slightly before fading back into the darkness.
The Duke picked up his document again.
“You may leave.”
“Yes.”
I bowed and turned to walk out of the study.
The moment the door closed, my legs almost gave out and I nearly fell to my knees. The majesty of those in high positions is truly terrifying.
But... it worked.
The old man agreed.
Come to think of it—Shirune was there the whole time? How did I not notice her at all? Is she a ninja? Are all half-demons creatures with zero presence?
No, wait, if you have zero presence, doesn't that make you even more suited to be a bodyguard? ...And things just fell into place like that. It wasn't exactly that she was assigned to me just for swordsmanship practice, but rather that she was put by my side because I had reached the right age, and this incident simply served as the catalyst.
In any case, with a flurry of chaotic thoughts, I returned to my room.
From that day on, the hell I had asked for arrived.
...
“One.”
Shirune's cold voice rang across the lawn.
Gripping the sword, I raised my hands above my head.
“Two.”
The blade slashed down, whipping up a gust of wind.
“Incorrect form.”
“...Huh?”
“Your wrists are too stiff. Your power isn't reaching the tip of the blade. Start over.”
Gritting my teeth, I raised the sword again.
So heavy.
Shirune said this iron training sword was beginner-grade. It was a section shorter than the practice swords I usually used, and its weight was only half of an official sword.
Half.
If half was already this heavy, what on earth was an official one going to be like?!
“You are thinking about unrelated things, Milady.”
“...No, I'm not.”
“Your eyes wandered. Start over.”
Dammit, this woman is a demon!
But considering I can only rely on you to get stronger, I'll let it slide this time.
But in truth, I didn't hate her either.
Strange, right?
Even though she was so strict with me, even though she drilled me every day until I couldn't lift my arms, my legs felt like lead, and every single muscle in my body was screaming—I really didn't hate her.
My bitterness was only directed at the grueling training itself.
Every single one of her “start overs,” every correction, and every demonstration was her earnestly and unreservedly teaching me everything she knew.
And—
Most importantly.
In front of her, I didn't have to put on an act.
The will of heaven only restricted how I interacted with characters related to the original plot—my brother Eliot was a character bullied by Loris in the original work, so I couldn't be too nice to him.
But what about Shirune?
I carefully recalled the scenes of my sister playing the game.
I had absolutely no memory of her.
This character wasn't in the plot of Starlight Knights: The Maiden's Legendary Journey of Love and Vows at all.
She was just a background character, a setting like “an Aldheim family bodyguard,” the kind of character who didn't even have her own character art.
Which meant—there were no restrictions on my attitude toward her.
If I wanted to be nice to her, I could.
If I wanted to smile at her, I could.
If I wanted to speak to her in a normal, non-malicious, non-affected tone, I could do exactly that. Seriously, it was awesome!
After all, nobody likes wearing a scowl all day.
I wasn't actually a villainess, so regardless of anything, her presence was a good thing for me. At the very least, I had someone I could talk to normally.
As for the maids in the manor, being friendly to them would instead trigger the system warning. The will of heaven forced me to maintain my status as a villainess. It seemed the maids didn't exist as individuals, but as a collective group.
Naturally, if I was nice to them, rumors would quickly spread, and my image couldn't be maintained.
So, it could be said that way.
The appearance of this half-demon bodyguard was a salvation for me.
“Five-minute break,” Shirune suddenly said.
Feeling as if I had been granted a grand pardon, I tried to stab the sword into the grass—of course, it didn't go in because the soil underneath was hard—so I just tossed it aside and collapsed directly onto the lawn.
The sunlight pierced my eyes, coloring my vision a warm red, while a gentle breeze blew through my sweat-dampened hair.
The blades of grass pricked the skin on the back of my neck, making it tickle slightly.
The wind blew from afar, carrying the scent of roses.
“...Milady.”
Shirune's voice came from above.
“Hmm?”
“Lying on the grass will dirty your clothes.”
“I'm going to sweat more later anyway. I'll just wash them all together when I go back.”
Silence.
Then, I heard an almost imperceptible sigh.
Next, a shadow fell over my face.
I opened my eyes.
Shirune was standing beside me, leaning over slightly, using her own body to block the direct sunlight for me.
Against the light, her silver hair looked like molten moonlight. Those deep crimson eyes looked down at me, devoid of any discernable emotion.
But what caught my attention was her tail—
That slender, black tail with an arrow-shaped tip—swished gently.
When half-demons experienced emotional fluctuations, their tails would move uncontrollably. This was something I had observed over the past few days.
In my past life, I was also a master of dating sims. I loved playing galgames, while my sister loved playing otome games. That was the emotional bond between us as siblings.
“What is it?” Alright, back to the topic.
I asked.
“...Nothing.”
She averted her gaze and sat down beside me.
It wasn't the vigilant stance typical of a bodyguard; after all, this was inside the manor. She just sat on her knees beside me in a very ordinary, relaxed manner.
Her sword was placed within easy reach.
I simply sat up as well, though I didn't copy her posture and just sat cross-legged.
The two of us sat side by side, looking at the distant rose garden.
“Shirune,” I spoke up after a moment's thought.
“Yes.”
“That thing you mentioned this morning, about transferring power from the toes to the waist, and then from the waist to the wrist—I still don't really get it.”
I gestured with my hands as I spoke.
“Like, the path of the power transfer. I feel like my power just stops at my wrist and never reaches the tip of the blade.”
Shirune glanced at me.
Then, she stood up and walked behind me.
“Pardon me,” she said, placing a hand on my lower back.
“Eek—!”
I flinched violently.
So cold!
Her hand was so cold!
“Don't move.”
Shirune's voice came from behind my ear, her breath brushing against my auricle, making it tickle so much I almost jumped again.
“Power generates from here,” she applied a bit of pressure with her palm against my lower back, “imagine a warm current rising from here.”
“A-And then...?”
“Then, move up along the spine.”
Her palm slid slowly up my back.
Her movement was very light, as if tracing some invisible line. Through the thin layer of my summer training clothes, the temperature of her palm shifted from slightly cool to warm.
My spine was as stiff as a wooden board.
“When the power reaches the shoulder blades, it splits into two streams. One flows toward the arm holding the sword, while the other—”
She placed her other hand on my shoulder.
“—stays here, acting as a balance.”
I swallowed hard.
“And then?”
“Then, when you swing the sword—”
Her right hand slid from my shoulder to my upper arm, then to my elbow, and finally gently clasped my wrist.
“—imagine the power flowing like water, from your shoulder to your wrist, and then from your wrist—”
Her fingers tightened slightly.
“—to the tip of the blade.”
She held my hand, guiding me through a slow swinging motion.
“Do you feel it?”
Feel what?
Feel how soft your hand is?
Feel that you're so close I can smell that faint, cedar-like scent on you?
Feel my heart beating like it's about to explode?
Oh my god, I had never experienced my heart racing like a cornered deer before, okay?!
“I-I feel it...”
I mumbled vaguely in response.
Shirune let go of my hand and sat back down beside me.
Her expression was completely normal, as if everything that had just happened was purely a teaching moment without any stray thoughts.
But I noticed—
The tip of her tail curled slightly.
This girl might just have other motives!
Although she seemed very serious on the surface, that was only on the first day. Ever since I showed signs of affection in front of her, she seemed to realize that my attitude toward her was very different, and that I treated her as a special existence.
To the point that her tail would wag now, even if she didn't say a word.
“...Milady learns very quickly,” she said softly, looking at the distant rose garden as if she didn't have a care in the world.
“Really?”
“Yes, much faster than I expected.”
Silence.
Who knows how much time passed.
The wind blew between us.
“Shirune,” I couldn't help but speak up.
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” I felt it was better to thank her first, because I was about to ask her more questions.
As the words left my mouth, she turned her head cooperatively, those crimson eyes looking at me with a mix of confusion and patience.
“This is my duty as your subordinate.”
“That's not what I meant,” I shook my head. “I mean, thank you for being willing to teach me so seriously. I know my movements are always wrong, my stamina is terrible, and I complain about being tired after holding the sword for just a bit—”
After all, this kind of thing was too difficult for someone who had never done it before. If it weren't for the pressure of survival, I would have absolutely slacked off.
“Milady,”
Shirune interrupted my rambling, saying respectfully:
“you are working very hard. There is no need to belittle yourself.”
“You are just not used to it yet. Everyone is like this when they first start learning swordsmanship.”
Oh, she thinks that highly of me?
“...Including you?” I asked after a moment of thought.
She fell silent for a moment, then nodded.
“Including me.”
I couldn't help but turn to look at her.
The sunlight cast a thin halo on her profile, and her horns became two black silhouettes against the light, resembling some ancient and lonely fate.
“Shirune,” I said, feeling a sudden urge.
“Yes.”
“When did you start learning swordsmanship?” I knew this was the kind of conversation starter in dating sims used to get to know someone deeper.
I wanted to raise her affection level a bit more. After all, she seemed very polite and respectful to me, and her appearance perfectly fit my ideal of a beautiful girl. More importantly...
White hair, a personal female knight, and emotionally detached!
“...Five years old,” she answered tentatively.
“That early?!” I was astonished.
“A half-demon child must learn to protect themselves as early as possible.”
When she said this, her tone was entirely flat, as if she were simply saying the weather was nice today.
But I couldn't help but feel... there were many things hidden behind those words, a heavy price paid.
“Then how old are you now?”
“...Milady.”
“Hmm?”
“It is somewhat impolite to ask a woman her age.” She turned her head away slightly, looking a bit introverted, unwilling to answer.
“Huh?”
I blanked for a second, then realized.
“Ah, sorry, I was just curious—”
“One hundred and seventeen years old.”
She finally sighed and said, averting her gaze.
The tip of her tail curled gently once more.
A question mark slowly popped up in my head.
At this age, she could probably outlive my entire family. Is she from one of those long-lived races? No, just looking at her, she definitely is. After all, she's a half-demon.
The more I thought about it, the more excited I got, because this also meant she would still look exactly like this when I grew up! Ah, speaking of which, the height difference between us right now was about twenty centimeters. Maybe I'd grow taller than her in the future?
After all, she was only 1.6 meters tall. Although she could easily pick me up right now, once I grew up, I could lift her chin and look down on her!
“What are you smiling about?” She seemed a bit embarrassed, a faint blush on her cheeks, probably from revealing her age.
“Nothing,” I shook my head, too embarrassed to voice my thoughts. “I just think it's quite interesting that you have this side to you, Shirune.”
Exploiting my status as her villainess master, I teased her without reservation.
Experiencing what it felt like to woo a beautiful girl was a first for me... but then again, it wasn't guaranteed I could actually win her over.
After all, she was only teaching me swordsmanship. Once she finished, she might have to go elsewhere, even though she was nominally my personal bodyguard by family tradition.
But later on, she would likely be reassigned to protect other heirs of the family.
I didn't say anything more as my thoughts drifted.
Until evening, when training ended.
Shirune and I walked back to the manor together. The setting sun painted the entire sky a brilliant orange-red, casting long shadows of the flowers in the rose garden.
By this point, my legs felt like they were filled with lead, screaming with every step I took. My arms were too sore to lift, and several blisters had formed on my palms, burning with pain.
But I was in a great mood.
Mysteriously great.
“We will still start at seven tomorrow morning,” Shirune said to me, stopping as we reached the side door of the manor.
“Got it.”
I nodded, remembering something, and pulled a handkerchief from my pocket. I had prepared this last night, deciding to build a deeper bond with her.
“Oh right, this is for you.”
Shirune looked down at the handkerchief I handed her.
“During our break this afternoon, you had a lot of sweat on your forehead. I thought you might need a handkerchief too.”
I stuffed the handkerchief into her hand and waved.
“Anyway, thank you for today's instruction. See you tomorrow.”
With that, I turned and walked into the manor, afraid she would see the cheerful expression on my face.
I was so happy. Being able to chat freely, and with an eye-catching, white-haired personal knight to boot. Even if a future between two women was unlikely, just being happy for these few years was enough.
Behind me, Shirune stood in place, staring down at the handkerchief in her hand.
That was a plain white handkerchief with a tiny lily of the valley embroidered in the corner. It wasn't anything valuable, just something Loris had casually grabbed from her room.
But Shirune held the handkerchief and stood there for a very long time.
It wasn't until the sun had completely sunk below the horizon and the magic lamps of the manor lit up one by one that she carefully folded the handkerchief and placed it in her breast pocket.
She made her way toward the annex where the servants lived.
In the corridor of the annex, several maids were chatting.
Shirune had intended to walk straight past—she never participated in such gossip. But a certain word made her pause.
“...Milady lost her temper again yesterday.”
“I saw it too. During afternoon tea, she smashed the entire tea set just because the cream pattern on the cake wasn't perfectly symmetrical.”
“Oh my goodness...”
“That's nothing. Last month, she made the coachman kneel in the rain just because the carriage cushion wasn't soft enough. He knelt for the entire afternoon, and he fell ill the next day.”
“For real...?”
“Of course it's true. Let me tell you, I've worked in several noble households, and I've never seen anyone with such a terrible temper.”
“Me neither. She's only a kid, right? If she's like this now, imagine what she'll be like when she grows up...”
“Shh, quiet down, don't let anyone hear you—”
Shirune walked past the end of the corridor.
The maids instantly fell silent and bowed their heads in respect.
She walked calmly past them, her pace not faltering in the slightest, as if she hadn't heard a single word.
Returning to her room, Shirune closed the door.
The room was small but very tidy.
A gray table and writing desk, a chair and a wardrobe. A spare sword hung on the wall, and an unnamed green plant sat on the windowsill.
Shirune sat down on the edge of the bed and fell into a long silence.
Then, she pulled the white handkerchief from her breast pocket. The lily of the valley embroidery in the corner gleamed with a faint silver hue under the dim light of the magic lamp.
Without a doubt, Milady was indeed very terrible to others.
Smashing tea sets, making people kneel, scolding, beating.
Since arriving here half a month ago, she had witnessed these malicious acts with her own eyes more than once. Some of what the maids said was true, while some was exaggerated.
But overall—Milady's reputation was indeed terrible.
Nicknames like “Villainess” and “Tyrant Daughter” were not unearned.
However.
Shirune lowered her head, looking at the handkerchief in her hand with confusion.
Milady seemed to be very different toward her.
It wasn't something that could be summarized by simple words like “good” or “bad.” To be precise—Milady's attitude toward her was unlike her attitude toward anyone else.
She would cheerfully say thank you, ask if she was tired, and even thoughtfully hand over a handkerchief, sitting cross-legged on the lawn to chat with her.
That feeling...
Shirune wasn't quite sure how to describe it.
She had held a sword since she was five, and officially became the Aldheim family's Guardian Knight at eighteen. She had long grown accustomed to pain and grief. Before today, her world consisted only of training, missions, and covenants.
No one had ever said thank you to her.
No one had ever asked if she was tired.
No one had ever handed her a handkerchief.
No one had ever looked at her with eyes that saw a normal person, rather than a half-demon bodyguard.
Lady Loris was the first person to interact with her like this.
She clearly had a terrible attitude, yet she was only this warm and gentle to her... It was hard not to let one's mind wander.
Shirune couldn't help but gently press the handkerchief against her cheek.
The fabric was very soft, carrying the faint scent of sunlight.
Her tail swished gently behind her.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
...
(Voiceover: The next morning, Shirune appeared at the training ground a full hour earlier than usual. She silently inspected all the training equipment to be used today, and then, before Milady arrived, quietly left an extra bottle of water in the resting area.
No one noticed this.)
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