Transmigrated Into A Tragic Romance Fantasy-Chapter 23: A New Hypothesis

《Erenscia~ Why don’t you eat this? It’s really delicious! Hahaha-.》

《N-No I don’t want to eat a...bug.》

《Why? You can’t eat bugs?》

《Eat it. You should know by now that they won’t stop until you do.》

Crunch, Crunch-.

《 Ugh...! Blegh! 》

《Hahahaha-! Stupid wench. What were you thinking? She actually ate it!》

《Hehehe-. How does it taste? This bug must have been your kin, wasn’t it?》

Please...Just leave me alone...

I think I’m going to throw up......

《Today we’re playing tag, Erenscia. It’ll be fun, right?》

《You know what would be even more fun? If you get caught, you die~ Better start running, no?》

Click-Clack-!

《Ahh-! Please, just let me go...Please...》

《Pff-. You call that running?》

《Since we caught you~ It’s time to die~》

Thud-!

Smack-!

《Argh-! It...H-hurts...》

《Of course that hurts you bitch. Did you think I was hitting you to make you happy? But don’t worry, I’ll try not to scar your face.》

《Hah-! Blame your slow legs for this, wench! It’s not our fault that you can’t run, right?》

Smack-!

《Sob-. P-Please...S-stop hitting me......》

《This is for your own good, you know~? How else would you survive this harsh world while being so weak?》

《Hehehe-. That’s right. There’s a saying about this, isn’t there? What doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger, right?》

Why......

Why is this happening to me......

I just wanted...To study in peace......

《Erenscia? Can’t you understand why you allow yourself to suffer?》

《It’s because you are weak. Your family is weak. Have you ever heard of ‘Survival of the Fittest’? It’s the natural law of this world. The weak will be devoured by the strong. It’s simple, right?》

Elden......

Stop looking at me with those pitiful eyes......

P-Please...Can’t you help me...Just once?

《Pff-. Elden? Looks like the wench is trying to get your help...Maybe you should teach her a lesson?》

《Why don’t you give it a rest and go have a drink, Blund? I have no interest in playing with a fallen foe.》

《Oh, come on, Elden. Show the wench what kind of man you are. Teach her that her hopes are nothing more than vain dreams.》

《......Understood.》

Ah...

No......

Please, anyone... save me from this hell...

Crunch-.

《Ughh...! N-No...!》

《Hahaha-! Yes, Elden! Just like that~ Crush that hand reaching out for hope. Make sure she never entertains such stupid thoughts again~》

Sob......

Whimper......

It’s hard......

I... ! think I’m going to die......

Yet...I...Never...Blamed you...

Because,

I didn’t run, even through it all......

I chose to endure this hell for the joy of learning......

Sob......

But,

Really...

《My lady? Are you awake?!》

That time......

《My Lady?! P-Please, wake up...》

It was just too much...

**

“Did you have a nightmare, My Lady?”

“Ah...”

Lumia Winterfell woke up and sat against the headboard of her bed.

Sitting beside her, Marien wiped the cold sweat from her arms and neck with a wet towel.

“Since you didn’t wake up in time, I came in here...You gave me quite the shock, My Lady.”

Lumia’s blue eyes glazed over, her lips cracked as if they had dried under the desert and she couldn’t remove her sweaty hair clinging to her skin.

Marien had been visibly perturbed by such an unfamiliar sight and so was Lumia.

After graduating from the Royal Academy, she had experienced nightmares.

She had buried all her pain and tears, immersing herself in her research and experiments based on the knowledge she had amassed over those three years.

Through the knowledge and wisdom acquired during those hellish years, Lumia had managed to forget her suffering.

She didn’t regret her choice to study at the Royal Academy.

Her only regret was that she wouldn’t have suffered at all had it not been for the curse cast by the chieftain of a northern monster tribe.

Those days had truly been extremely torturous.

Her suffering had reached a point where Lumia considered revealing her identity regardless of her father’s advice.

She feared her torture over an unpredictable death from the curse.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, feeling sorry for her father who had implored her to conceal her identity.

Because of her father’s earnest pleadings, she couldn’t reveal her identity nor report the misdeeds of the villainous quartet.

As such, Lumia hid the scars that marred her body.

Those scars were a consequence of her own stubborn choices, and thus, Lumia alone had to bear their existence.

Because of this, rather than seeking vengeance for her suffering, Lumia chose oblivion.

However, whenever those scars made their existence known, she would be overcome by terror and would collapse as if the world was crumbling around her.

She wished those memories would remain distant and fragmented.

Perhaps she had clung to her research and experiments to forget them.

Yet, the reason she chose those four as the finalists of the Grand Ducal Betrothal Contest was precisely because of those memories that would surface occasionally.

It was her way of seeking total oblivion of her suffering.

For her freedom from the suffering.

But of course, she wasn’t sure that oblivion and freedom awaited her at the end.

Regardless.

Thanks to such efforts and resolutions, she had never had a nightmare before, which is why Lumia had been overwhelmed by terror and shock.

What could have triggered these nightmares?

Why would she have them now?

Lumia couldn’t understand it.

It was then that Marien, who wiped her face, asked.

“...My Lady?”

“Yes?”

“The...Grand Ducal Betrothal Contest...You will have to choose a spouse from the finalists, won’t you?”

Lumia nodded.

Just as there had never been a withdrawal from the Contest, there had never been a Betrothal Contest without a winner.

Choosing one amongst the four finalists had been how the Grand Ducal Betrothal Contest ended.

That was the Winterfell Family’s tradition. Something that even her brother and sister adhered to. All of them had married the winners and led their lives happily ever after.

“...Indeed.”

“Have you thought about it, My Lady?”

Marien, the only person who was aware of Lumia’s plan, became worried as she watched her mistress wither like a flower that had lost its light.

Especially since Elden Raphelion’s declaration of withdrawal, her Lady’s condition took a sharp turn.

Sometimes she would talk to herself, tear her hair, and scribble some ravings on a sheet of paper.

She hardly ate anything and had forsaken her beloved experiments, lost in thought all day.

Marien knew that this Contest represented her Lady’s quest for freedom, but she doubted whether such a thing awaited her at the end.

Therefore, when an opening presented itself, Mariel would try to discreetly dissuade her.

Seeing her Lady paralyzed by fear and terror like this...Made Marien wonder if her Lady’s choice had been correct.

Lumia noticed her maid’s concern as she tried to mask her terror with a smile, gently stroking her sweaty hair.

“I’m alright, Marien.”

“...I worry about you, My Lady.”

“If you worry, then who do you think I should marry, Marien?”

“Hm......”

It was a difficult question.

For someone who knew of Lumia’s scars, choosing one among the villainous quartet was a difficult decision.

As Marien struggled to answer, Lumia continued.

“My choice will be determined by one of the two following factors.”

“My Lady?”

“Either it will be the one who sincerely repents and regrets his evil deeds. Or...the one who remains unrepentant and remorseless until the very end. I shall marry the one who fits one of these conditions.”

“Ah...”

If the former was the case, it would be a happy ending for everyone, but the latter seemed to promise a Tragic Ending.

Marien could only sigh at that declaration.

She hoped that, at least her Mistress, would have a happy ending.

**

Knock, Knock-.

Now, fully recovered, Lumia sat in her office.

The youngest daughter of the Winterfell’s Grand Duke.

As the youngest daughter, still unmarried and unknown to the aristocratic society, she didn’t have official duties or documents to process in her office.

She was merely pondering about the variable known as Elden Raphelion.

“My Duchess.”

The man who had entered her office was none other than Gelwood.

“Please take a seat.”

He was here to report the surveillance and investigation she had ordered.

Sitting on a sofa next to Lumia’s desk, Gelwood spoke in a worried tone.

“My Duchess, you look unwell. Is there something troubling you?”

With her face revealed only a few days away, Gelwood, as the coordinator of the Grand Ducal Betrothal Contest, couldn’t help but be concerned about Lumia’s haggard expression.

However, just as she had dealt with Marien, Lumia forced a smile on her face as she answered.

“I’m fine, Advisor. Rather than that, have you uncovered any special events since his graduation?”

“...Nothing in particular.”

“I see...What about his behavior ever since his declaration?”

“On that matter, there have been some odd things.”

“In what way, Advisor?”

Lumia leaned forward, clearly interested.

“Elden Raphelion has stopped receiving any sort of nighttime ‘attendances’ in his housing, and until now has completely abstained from drinking.”

“......That Elden Raphelion?”

Lumia couldn’t help but question such a report.

He was a known wastrel. A lustful barbarian.

Both ‘Wastrel’ and ‘Barbarian’ were practically synonymous with ‘Elden Raphelion’.

Moreover, these behaviors were conducted in his housing, something away from the public eye. As such there was no reason for him to ‘stage’ such change.

Unless,

“Is it possible that he has noticed our surveillance?”

However, Gelwood shook his head, firmly dismissing such a possibility.

“That is not possible, My Duchess. The man hired to spy on him is a professional.”

“...I see. Then can I believe these testimonies?”

“Yes. Some of these reports were testified by the maids and servants of the annex. She even mentioned Elden refusing her services.”

“...Anything else?”

“Since his declaration, he has taken up reading. He visits the library daily.”

“What?”

Lumia’s brow furrowed.

This report was completely absurd.

It simply wasn’t possible for that man to enjoy the wisdom contained in the books.

He would rather use those books as fuel to a fire or as blunt weapons.

“And today, at lunchtime, he headed to the training grounds with an escort Knight after eating with his companion in the Great Hall.”

“Wait. Did you just say he ate with a ‘companion’?”

“Yes, My Duchess.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s Lady Ariel Elrond, daughter of Count Elrond, My Duchess.”

“What...?”

Ariel Elrond.

Lumia’s eyes widened as she heard that name.

That name caused a buried memory, one of the many she had left untouched, to resurface.

Simultaneously, the image of a blonde, bun-haired, student who was always engrossed in her books but never showed interest in academic matters came to mind.

A Bookworm and a Wastrel.

Such opposing personalities would never mix. And this made Lumia suspicious.

“Do you know her?”

A new hypothesis was created.

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One that she had never considered before, a path she never thought to be possible.

Love.

If there was a force strong enough to mix water and oil, to forcibly attract and combine such opposing natures, then...Perhaps her absurd conundrum could be solved.

A force so powerful that could grant a desperate researcher the long-awaited bliss of solving an impossible puzzle.

“Could you arrange a meeting?”

“Do you mean another meeting with Sir Elden Raphelion?”

“No. I wish to talk with Lady Ariel Elrond.”