Chapter 7: 7

Still, I was born with a ‘copper spoon’ in my mouth. My father was the Commander of Knights of the Grand Duchy and was given an honorary ‘baron’ title.  Since it was honorary, he was not an official noble, but was still treated with respect for being a knight. I managed to live a good life compared to ordinary people because of that. 

(T/N: Copper spoon – Like the idiom “born with a silver spoon.” But apparently, she is not wealthy enough for a “silver spoon.” Hence the copper.)

But I knew deep down that this wasn’t reliable enough.

It wasn’t as if I wasn’t satisfied with the house’s size or anything, but rather that it was simply not a sound environment. My father, who was my only guardian, was as blunt as my parents in my past life. My father in my past life was a driver. He always left for work early in the morning and got off work very late. It was hard enough for me to see his face, let alone get his affection.

So in this life, my goal was clear. I don’t want to go through anything nasty, like in my previous life, ever again. 

As far as I know, a civil servant’s life is pretty secure here. Stable salary, guaranteed retirement!

But to get such a stable job, I have to outdo others. I knew better than anyone else that I wasn’t outstanding. Then the only way to succeed is to try harder! 

“Father, I want to study. Please find someone who can teach me how to study.”

I was four years old when I requested my father for a tutor. My father looked surprised, but hired a tutor for me right away. 

I studied hard for the life I wanted — that of a revered elite.

After I started studying, it became evident that I was no genius. However, I did have an adult’s tenacity to make up for it. 

So rather than hanging out with my peers, I studied hard. I didn’t want to go through the horrible grief of my previous life again.

Time passed. Seven years after I reincarnated, and as my life continued steadily moving forward, he appeared before me.

Kir, who was my enemy, yet somehow not my enemy, and with whom I spent more than half of my life.

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When I first saw Kir, I thought he was a baby angel. Kir, who was about my age, was beautiful. He was so beautiful that it’s hard to explain.

Clear, round eyes, chubby cheeks, and lips so plump that I wanted to kiss him.

I had thought I was a cute and lovely child, but that confidence dissipated in Kir’s presence.

Fortunately, I resemble my mother and not my bandit-like father, so I was still pretty cute. The one thing I was dissatisfied with regarding my appearance after reincarnation was my curly hair.

I inherited none of my father’s features, except my curls. Natural curls! The kind that becomes annoyingly tangled the moment I stop paying attention to them.

Unlike me, Kir had thin blonde hair. Whenever the wind blew, it fluttered gently, as if butterflies were dancing among the strands.

His large, clear, almond-shaped eyes turned slightly sharp – and a little sad – as he grew up. They seemed to possess a charm of their own.

Yes, his eyes were exceptional! Their purple color was very mysterious. Was it because I had never seen such a shade before? Even comparing them to jewels wouldn’t do them justice.

His long lashes drew my attention every time he blinked, and his fair skin and round cheeks, which I desperately wanted to poke, were so lovely.

When he smiles brightly, all my sisterly feelings surge, and my heart flutters. It was cuteness to the extent that even the most cold-hearted wouldn’t be able to help but feel at least slightly affectionate towards him. If this were Korea, he would’ve already been a child star in commercial films.

Thus, it makes sense that at our first meeting, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. 

***

We first met under the shade of a massive tree in a large garden. It was midday, and the sun was hot and bright. The sunshine peeking through the leaves fell upon Kir, illuminating him.

So, even though seven years had passed since I died and reincarnated, I thought I finally met an angel. Maybe this was heaven, and I hadn’t reincarnated after all.

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