[08] SMOKE & REGRETS

A day had passed, and Eliana had not yet woken up.

Right now, the three brothers were in the study, each buried in their own work.

Marcus studied the wide map of the North spread across the table, his brow furrowed. Kaelen reviewed the current soldiers' reports, muttering about strengths and weaknesses. Rhys sat silently at the desk, his eyes tracking over the holographic schematic of the fortress repairs—the one Eliana had acquired from the System.

“What is this pinned in this area?” Marcus murmured, pointing to a mark on the map.

“It was Her Grace who pinned it, my lord,” Cris said, having just entered the room.

“Hmm.” Marcus placed another pin near Eliana’s mark, his expression thoughtful.

“Anyway, there was a letter that arrived. It’s addressed to Her Grace. What should I do with this?” Cris asked, holding up a sealed parchment.

“Who’s it from? Uncle?” Marcus asked, not looking up.

“Uhm… it bears the seal of the Sword and Shield,” Cris said carefully.

The three brothers immediately stopped their tasks. The air in the room seemed to drop several degrees as their heads snapped toward the letter in Cris’s hand, their faces hardening with chilling repulsion.

Cris flinched at their sudden, unified reaction. The Sword and Shield… that’s the crest of Wykenight. His mind raced. The letter is from Duke Alistair. Her Grace’s… husband. Wykenights were not just respected; they were powerful, austere, and deeply feared nobles. To receive a direct seal from them was momentous.

“Give it to me,” Marcus said, his voice flat.

Cris hurried forward and handed him the letter.

The two other brothers stood and moved behind Marcus as he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. The three fell into a dead silence as their eyes scanned the contents.

“Tsk. Burn it,” Kaelen said, the words clipped with disdain. He turned and went back to the couch, picking up his documents as if the letter were a piece of trash.

“What a clown,” Rhys muttered, sitting back down at the desk with a dismissive shake of his head.

Marcus crumpled the paper without ceremony and threw it into the hearth’s fire. The flames eagerly licked at the expensive parchment. “Don’t bother telling Eliana about this letter,” he stated, his gaze fixed on the burning page. “She probably doesn’t even remember that bastard’s face.”

Cris stood frozen, his mind whirling. They didn’t just dismiss it… they burned it. A letter from the Duke of Wykenight! He knew the political weight of that seal, the potential consequences of such an insult. Yet the brothers had reacted not with diplomatic caution, but with a personal, venomous contempt. It wasn't just political—it was deeply, furiously personal. And their certainty that Her Grace wouldn't care… or wouldn't remember… what did that mean?

He swallowed, bowing slightly. “A-as you wish, my lord.” The words felt inadequate in the face of such a deliberate, dangerous snub.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

–LATE AFTERNOON–

Eliana slowly opened her eyes and took a shallow, careful breath. A dull ache radiated from her shoulder and ribs, a persistent throb that anchored her to the waking world.

“I’m still alive?” she whispered, her voice a dry rasp.

[ADMIN A: HAVE SOME SHAME!! IT’S NOT EVEN A WEEK YET SINCE YOU CAME BACK AND YOU’RE ALREADY THINKING OF DYING?! WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS, AN UNLIMITED REINCARNATION DRAW?!!]

Eliana winced, squeezing her eyes shut against the Admin’s furious psychic shout. “Calm down,” she croaked, her throat sore.

[ADMIN A: SHUT UPP!!! ARGHH! DID YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I WAS?!]

I was the one who used to be worked up. Seems like we switched, she thought, a flicker of dark amusement cutting through the pain.

[ADMIN A: I CAN HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS, YOU CRAZY SUICIDAL HUMAN!!!]

“Suicidal is kind of harsh,” Eliana muttered, shifting slightly and immediately regretting it as a sharp twinge shot through her side.

Then, a blue hologram shimmered into view at the edge of her vision.

[QUEST: SAVE THE TOWN SQUARE - COMPLETED (Rating: B+)]

[REWARD: 200,000 EXP, 10,000 SP]

[REPUTATION: "GUARDIAN OF THE NORTH" INCREASED.]

[NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: Cold Adaptation (Basic)]

[MANA INCREASED: +10]

“Hmm. Is this all? After I almost died?” she grumbled.

[ADMIN A: YOU SHOULD AT LEAST BE GRATEFUL! THE SYSTEM IS SET TO RECOGNIZE YOUR BODY AND POTENTIAL. IT DOES ITS OWN THING; WE ADMINS ARE JUST THE CARETAKERS!]

“No one asked.”

[ADMIN A: @##%$@@!!]

The door opened softly, and Helen entered, her eyes wide. “Your Grace! You’re finally awake!”

“Helen… did I keep you worried?” Lia said, effortlessly tuning out Admin A’s continuing, incoherent sputter of frustration.

“Worried?!” Helen rushed to the bedside, her hands fluttering, unsure whether to fuss or scold. “Your Grace, you were covered in blood and ice! The physician said your ribs were cracked! You gave us all a fright!” Her voice wavered between relief and reprimand. “And your clothes are… ruined!”

“The clothes were the least of it,” Lia said, trying for a weak smile. “The people? Tomas?”

“All safe, Your Grace, all safe,” Helen said, dabbing at her eyes with her apron. “Thanks to you. The children won’t stop talking about the ‘nice lady in the sky.’ The lords—your brothers—have been… well, they’ve been managing things. Very intensely.” Her tone suggested “intensely” was an understatement. “They’ve been in and out, checking on you every hour. Lord Kaelen glares at anyone who makes a sound near the door.”

Lia let out a slow breath, the information processing. “Good. And the supplies? The distribution?”

Helen blinked, then let out a half-laugh, half-sob. “Even flat on your back, that’s what you ask about? Yes, Your Grace. The clothes from your gowns are being sewn. The grain from the wagons is being rationed. Lord Marcus has everyone working on lists. It’s… organized chaos. But it’s happening.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The people are calling you their guardian, you know. They are so grateful, it was the talk of the Dukedom.”

Lia looked away, toward the frost-etched window. “I just did what needed to be done.”

“It was more than that,” Helen insisted softly. Then she straightened, shifting back to practical matters. “You must be starving. I’ll have some broth brought up. And the physician will want to see you. Don’t you dare try to get up before he says so!”

As Helen bustled out, Lia was left with the quiet of the room and the lingering, staticky annoyance of Admin A in her mind.

Guardian of the North huh? she thought, testing the weight of the title. It felt less like an honor and more like a debt finally being acknowledged—a first, painful installment on a massive, long-overdue payment.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

Eliana could barely move because of her fractured ribs and aching wound. But she still managed to change from her nightgown into her tactical pants and boots. “Tsk, is the torn shirt all I have now?”

[ADMIN A: HERE.]

Blue holographic cubes materialized in front of her, resolving into a new black long-sleeved shirt that fell onto the bed.

“Is this free?” Lia asked, grabbing it and slowly, painfully pulling it on.

[ADMIN A: YES. PURCHASING A SET OF GEAR IS A ONE-TIME DEAL. YOUR OLD SLEEVE WAS RECYCLED BACK INTO THE SYSTEM ANYWAY.]

She half-tucked the shirt, went outside almost limping from the pain, and grabbed her black winter coat, draping it over her shoulders.

This pain is ridiculous… I never imagined I’d feel something like this again.

[ADMIN A: YOU NEED TO WORK OUT AGAIN, LIA.]

YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?

[ADMIN A: HEY! DON’T DIRECT YOUR PAIN-INDUCED IRRITATION AT ME!]

The halls were their usual, quiet selves. “Brothers must be busy…” she murmured.

She headed straight for the battlements, where Tomas noticed her immediately.

“Your Grace!” he yelled, coming out of the guard tower.

“Yo, Tomas,” Lia said.

“I’m glad you’re fine, but what are you doing here? You should have rested more…” Tomas said, concern etching his features.

“I get anxious if I’m not doing anything,” she said, looking out at the frozen, never-ending forest beyond the fortress. “How’s the granny who got burned by the wyvern’s acid?”

Look at her battered body, yet she’s worrying about someone else. “She was treated. The rations were also distributed earlier this morning with the help of soldiers off duty,” Tomas reported.

“That’s great.” Lia sighed.

“The people are grateful to you, Your Grace,” Tomas said. “Usually, wyverns never attack in groups. And they hate winter, so they usually come around summer. We can normally prepare. But this sudden attack… if it weren’t for you and the lordships’ prowess, we wouldn’t have ended this with just wounds and ruined roofs. We might have lost lives again.”

Lia’s face turned rueful. “There’s no need to thank us, Tomas. It was just the normal thing to do.” She paused. “Do you have cigarettes?”

“Oh, I don’t smoke, Your Grace,” Tomas said, almost shyly.

Lia laughed at the innocents of the young boy in front of her. “HAHAHA—ACCK!” She then curled slightly from the throbbing pain in her ribs.

“Your Grace!” Tomas reached out instinctively.

She raised a hand and straightened her posture, wincing. “I’m fine. Right, how old are you, Tomas?”

“I just turned 18 last month, Your Grace.”

“I see. Kids shouldn’t smoke,” Lia said.

Hmm? Isn’t Her Grace only a year older than me? That’s what Father said.

“Do you smoke, Your Grace?” Tomas asked out of curiosity.

“Yeah… it relieves my stress and fatigue,” Lia said. And it calms my relentless troubled mind.

“Really?! What age did you start?” Tomas pressed.

Lia looked at him. “Oh, was I too nosy? Forgive me, Your Grace.”

“It’s alright,” Lia sighed. “It actually started when I was in middle school.” She then realized she’d said something incomprehensible in this world. Oops. “I mean, I was thirteen? Maybe…”

Tomas’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s too young, Your Grace!”

*Lia Scoffs* “Yeah, right.” My mom on Earth used to scold me when she figured it out. “It was my first smoke. I woke up from a terrible nightmare I couldn’t shake. So, when I saw one of my crooked friends in an alley smoking, I beat him up because it was illegal for kids. Then when he left,” she grinned, “I smoked it. HAHAHAHA, that was crazy. Then I got addicted.” It was an endless nightmares…

She beat up her friend for smoking underage, but then she smoked it herself? Her Grace is really… crooked too.

“It’s actually surprising I didn’t look for one the moment I got here. But now that I can’t do anything, my psyche is starting to affect my body. I feel so dry right now,” Lia said.

“I have one, Your Grace.” A voice came from the end of the battlement.

It was Commander Gareth.

“However, it’s a cheap one.”

“You smoke, Gareth?” Lia asked. If I remember right, Gareth never smoked.

“I don’t, actually. But I bought this when I went to the capital to beg His Majesty.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “They said smoke could release tension. I was afraid and shaking because I was about to ask His Majesty to give back one of his beloved nephews and niece.”

He handed her a box of cigars and a matchbox from his pocket.

“It cost five silver. That flavor… you can have it, Your Grace. I only took one puff right before meeting the Emperor. I didn’t like the taste. Though it may be cheap for a noble, five silver is a lot for us here in the North.”

Lia took it, opened the box, and took one out with the practiced ease of an expert chain-smoker. “Thanks, Gareth. I’ll pay you for this.”

“Oh no, Your Grace. Consider it a token of gratitude for making sure no one was hurt in the town,” Gareth said. “Did my son help you in any way?”

“He did,” Lia said.

Ah. Right. I remember now. Gareth has a son. She looked at Tomas. Was this the kid who looked at me like a sharp dagger when I was still complaining about my future here? Was he… the one who… She closed her eyes, put the cigar between her lips, and lit it. She inhaled slowly, as if she could recall the devastated face of Gareth kneeling before Tomas’s lifeless body.

She took a drag, tasting the mint flavor… and blew the smoke out into the frigid air.

Ha… that’s more like it…

“Whoa,” the father and son murmured, watching their Duchess.

“Is it just me, Father, but strangely, Her Grace looks like…” Tomas whispered.

“Looks like a mob boss, but noble? A high-class mobster?”

“Right!”

Lia’s posture—one hand tucked in her pocket while she smoked, her outfit utterly unlike any noblewoman’s—only added to that aura.

[ADMIN A: I DIDN’T MEAN TO EAVESDROP, BUT EVERYTHING YOU HEAR, I HEAR TOO. LIA, THEY ARE PRACTICALLY SAYING YOU LOOK LIKE MAFIA.]

Is that so? That’s cute.

[ADMIN A: I CAN’T BLAME THEM. YOU SIBLINGS WERE WRECKS AS TEENS. IS THAT HOW YOU COPED WITH TRAUMA?]

Shut up if you don’t want me to wreck the cosmos again.

[ADMIN A: ARE YOU THREATENING ME WITH DYING?! YOU ARE, RIGHT?!]

Lia continued her smoke, ignoring the furious Admin. The two soldiers beside her stayed with her quietly, sharing the cold, watchful silence.

—-❈-—

Later that night, Eliana decided to introduce the wolf she rescued to her brothers.

“Hello, my dear sister,” Rhys said, walking beside her toward the castle basement—the old prison area they used to call the ‘Dark Corner.’

It was now just a wide, echoing space lined with empty cells.

“STOP BEING GROSS, YOU STUPID SHIT,” Lia said, visibly repulsed.

“Are you sure you can move around, Lia?” Marcus called from behind them.

“There you go again, belittling the will of a soldier,” Kaelen shot back.

“I told you to shut up, didn’t I?” Marcus snapped, clearly pissed.

“There they go again,” Rhys murmured, then turned back to Lia. “So, what did you bring us down here for? Do you, perhaps…” He glanced over his shoulder at Cris, who was following them, fidgeting and obviously terrified of the dark. “…want to get rid of someone? HEHEHE,” Rhys said, his grin taking on a psychotic edge.

Cris shivered violently.

“Hey, stop scaring him. If that kid runs away, I’ll kill you,” Lia said flatly.

“Y-Your Grace…” Cris stammered, oddly touched by her defense.

She looked back at him and smirked. “He’s too good at his work to die… early.”

“EEECCK!” Cris chirped. W-what’s w-wrong… with these crazy siblings?!

“Lia, what’s the real reason you brought us here?” Kaelen asked again, steering them back on track.

“Well, we happened to run into a wounded silver wolf. The System said they’re on the brink of extinction and told me to save it,” Lia explained. She turned to Cris. “Are you sure it hasn’t woken up yet? Or were you just too scared to come down here and lied?”

“N-no way, Your Grace! I came here yesterday with Commander Gareth…” Cris said, shaking while clutching the magitech light-torch the brothers had brought.

“Tsk, really? Sounds like a lie,” Kaelen pressed, enjoying the way Cris trembled.

“Cut it out,” Marcus ordered.

Kaelen glared. “Raymond, I told you to stop pressing my buttons, didn’t I?”

“They never get along,” Lia murmured to Rhys.

“Well, can you blame them? They’ve always been nemeses since we were kids,” Rhys said, the two younger siblings completely ignoring their older brothers’ bickering behind them. “After all, Lester enjoys coveting Raymond’s things.”

“Was that when he wore one of those purple-and-gold jerseys from '96... the ones with the #8 signed by the Mamba himself?” Lia recalled.

“Ah, right! Kaelen almost died that day. HAHAHAHA! Remember what he said? He felt like he could shoot consecutive three-pointers if he wore it! HAHAHAHAHA!” Rhys cackled.

Cris was too busy trembling to process the mixed-up names or the siblings’ shared, chaotic nostalgia.

INAUDIBLE… [???: …DESPITE THE HEAVY PAST, IT SEEMS LIKE THEY MADE SOME GOOD MEMORIES AS NORMAL SIBLINGS IN THEIR SECOND LIFE…]

–TO BE CONTINUED…–