Chapter 3: Take good care of your younger brother.

With roughly two years left until graduation, when Violette has resolved to enter a convent, there’s no shortage of things she wants to do.
Until now, she lived to fulfill her mother’s wishes, then to act as a lady befitting her family’s name.
Her sole desire to “be loved” only led to regret.
Her frenzied actions drove away the few friends she had—a consequence of her own making, so she harbors no complaints or resentment.
Those relationships were mostly tied to her family’s status anyway, and she has no interest in rekindling them.
But that limits the wishes she can fulfill.
She wants to move her body freely. That, she can do alone.
Take a detour on the way home from school. Also doable alone, as long as she can bear the loneliness.
Go out with friends. That’s out of the question—friends are a nonstarter.

‘…There’s actually quite a lot I can do.’

During a break, taking advantage of her classmates’ hesitance to approach her, she opens a notebook and jots down her thoughts.
Scribbling her desires without restraint, she realizes there are plenty of things she can do alone.
Everyone around her is obsessed with making friends, and her past self was no different, mistakenly believing friends were essential for everything.
But in truth, there’s no need to go to the restroom in groups.
For Violette, who plans to enjoy life without getting involved with others, this is a pleasant discovery.

“Maybe I’ll stop by somewhere after school today…”

But then she remembers—today is supposed to be a celebration of Maryjune’s transfer.
Recalling how her own enrollment passed without so much as a glance from her father, it’s clear he truly loves Maryjune.
It’s something she already knew, so she doesn’t expect better treatment now.
But in her first life, at this very celebration, she viciously berated Maryjune—criticizing her eating, her speech, her every mannerism.
Even though her father had ensured Maryjune received a basic education, she had been raised among commoners until recently.
While she was refined for a commoner, among nobles, she was inevitably labeled as unpolished.
Violette knew this, of course.
That’s why she deliberately set impossible standards for Maryjune, who was still unfamiliar with noble customs, and mocked her for failing.
Reflecting on it now, she’s almost appalled by her own pettiness.

‘Do they even need me there…?’

Wouldn’t she just be intruding on their family time?
She can easily imagine her father’s scowl, his brow furrowed in irritation.
But if she skips the dinner without notice, that kindhearted mother and daughter would likely wait for her.
And her father would probably go along with them.

‘I’ll ask Marin to bring my meal to my room.’

It’s not exactly commendable, but this time is an exception.
Marin, who knows the towering wall and gaping chasm between Violette and the rest of her family, would understand.
The other servants might pity her, but they wouldn’t reproach her.

“Ah…!”

Lost in her list of desires, time slips by unnoticed.
She was so absorbed she didn’t hear the bell signaling the start of class.
Only when the teacher steps up to the podium, catching the corner of her eye, does she realize class is starting.
She hurriedly prepares her textbook and flips to a fresh page in her notebook.

The lesson content, already covered in her first life, isn’t too difficult to follow.
She doesn’t remember everything, and academics weren’t her priority back then, so some parts are unfamiliar.
Still, this second time feels like a review, and the material sinks in easily.
It’s a welcome surprise—good grades might keep her father from meddling.
Even in her first life, he wasn’t overly critical, but she was often compared to Maryjune, who had a natural genius.
Violette is neither a genius nor a prodigy, but having taken these classes once before feels like a cheat code.
What matters in studying isn’t the process but the result.
Even if she’s had an extra round of lessons, it’s her own effort that allows her to understand and apply the knowledge.
She catches herself making excuses, but since there’s no one to justify herself to, she lets it go.
In any case, she’s not so fond of studying that she’d linger on it after school.

“Well then…”

She stands, grabbing her bag to leave, when—

“Vio-chan!”

“!?”

The sudden call of her nickname makes her shoulders jump reflexively.
Startled for a moment, she quickly realizes there’s only one person who calls her “Vio.”

“Yuran, your voice is too loud. You’ll startle everyone.”

“S-sorry…”

His shoulders slump visibly, looking oddly small for someone so tall.
It’s almost as if she can see drooping dog ears and a limp tail.
Yuran Kugurus, her childhood friend and a junior at the academy.
With reddish-brown, tousled hair and gentle, golden, downturned eyes, his striking height stands out in any crowd.
Though his presence could be intimidating, his warm smile inspires affection rather than fear.
A handsome young man with a refined appearance and a kind demeanor.
His family is a branch of the royal line, and his father serves as the kingdom’s prime minister.
An only child—at least officially—though, like Violette, his family situation is somewhat complicated.
Unlike her, however, Yuran is showered with his parents’ love.

“Why come all the way to the second-year classroom? Is something wrong?”

It’s not unusual for him to call out to her loudly.
When he’s excited or emotional, his voice tends to carry, forgetting those around him.
But normally, he’s gentle and reserved, preferring not to draw attention.
He’s well aware his striking appearance naturally attracts eyes and carries himself accordingly.
Storming into an upperclassman’s classroom with a booming voice isn’t something he’d do without a significant reason.

“I heard the rumors… about your father, Vio-chan.”

She understands immediately why Yuran sought her out.
The news of her father’s new wife must have reached him.
Since Yuran is in the same year as Maryjune, the rumors likely spread faster among his peers.
And it’s true—Violette has a new stepmother.

“…Let’s move somewhere else.”

Explaining in a classroom still bustling with students isn’t ideal.
It’s not a secret, but it’s not something to broadcast either.
Rumors, whether confirmed or denied, are like a game of telephone—inevitably distorted.
In her first life, Violette didn’t realize this and spewed venom about her stepmother and half-sister at every opportunity.
Much of it was baseless, and that venom ultimately contributed to her downfall.
Cause and effect, self-inflicted ruin.
Knowing that outcome, she has no intention of repeating the same mistakes.
Her creed is to remain inconspicuous.
If it weren’t Yuran, she’d have brushed him off.
But because it’s Yuran, whom she cherishes like a younger brother, she wants to ease his concerns.

Thinking of a quieter place, she tugs Yuran’s arm and turns away from the classroom.