I—Alicia Gran Oldwood—had been cast aside. My engagement was annulled, my family in the House of the Duke had abandoned me, and I had been sent away to House Brave, the rulers of a territory known as The Abandoned Land.
The manor of House Brave was stark, stripped of the fine furnishings and decor that usually adorned a noble home. It was a quiet place, where the only sounds were the occasional murmur of a servant’s voice or the rhythmic echo of footsteps in the halls.
Yet, a strange thing had happened since I arrived. The dark, swirling emotions that had threatened to consume my heart began to settle. Unlike my time in the Royal Capital, I no longer woke from nightmares; I found I could actually sleep in peace.
Perhaps, having been exiled to this distant fringe of the world, I had finally reached a state of total resignation. Deep down, I had accepted that I would never return to the House of the Duke.
A simple room, simple clothes, and simple meals—for a woman who had lost everything, these things felt appropriate.
I had spent five days sitting motionless in my room. I had nothing but time to think, yet I had passed those hollow hours in a daze, unsure of what I was supposed to do or even what I was capable of doing.
It was in the middle of this stagnation that a knock sounded at my door.
"Lady Alicia, good morning. I’ve brought your breakfast."
It was a man’s voice.
Specifically, it belonged to Laguna Ver Brave, the young Margrave and Lord who was the same age as me.
Aside from our initial meeting, we hadn't spoken at all, despite living under the same roof. I found it difficult to face that smile of his; it was painful, and more than anything, it left me so confused that I preferred to avoid him entirely.
When I didn't answer, the knocking grew louder. The wood began to groan and creak as if the door were on the verge of splintering.
"I’m awake! I’m awake, so just come in! You’re going to break the door!"
Startled into raising my voice for the first time in days, I watched as he stepped into the room with a nonchalant "Excuse me."
When I demanded to know what he would have done if the door actually broke, he merely gave me that carefree smile again. "I’d just fix it," he said.
I couldn't wrap my head around him.
He went on to boast—with a grin, no less—that things being broken during fights was a daily occurrence at House Brave, and that he had become quite the handyman because of it.
I truly did not understand this man.
As I stood there exasperated, he began unloading a tea set from a wagon, pouring a dark liquid into a cup.
"Do you take milk? How about sugar?"
He looked at me expectantly, but I couldn't answer him. I had never even seen coffee before, let alone tasted it.
"I’ve never had it. I wouldn’t know how I like it."
When I answered honestly, he looked a bit sheepish.
"My apologies for not having anything else prepared. This is the Frontier, after all. It’s a bit rustic."
"...I don’t mind."
This wasn't the House of the Duke; it was House Brave. Since my life was now confined to this simple room, coffee was more than enough. I didn't need the refined tea of my past.
With that thought, I took a bold sip—and immediately began to choke on the intense bitterness.
"Cough! Hack... It’s... it’s so bitter..."
"That’s because you tried to drink it black right away."
He handed me a different cup, this one tempered with milk and sugar. It was sweet and gentle.
I could drink this. It wasn't bad at all. In fact, it felt far more heart-warming than any cup of tea I had ever forced myself to swallow while worrying about etiquette and appearances.
"I’ve been wondering something."
Perhaps it was the warmth of the drink, but I found myself initiating a conversation.
"Why are you the one bringing me breakfast? Surely you have servants for this."
Ever since I could remember, servants handled these things. Even when I first arrived here, it had been a servant. But today was different.
I suppose I asked because, after days of silence, some part of me was desperate for human connection.
"We’re short-handed," Laguna replied casually. "In this territory, the servants fight when they have to. Most of them died in the last war."
"...Oh."
The answer to my simple question was far heavier than I had anticipated. We were never on the same wavelength; it had been that way since the moment we met.
He was a strange man.
As I struggled to find the right words to respond, Laguna suddenly reached out and lifted my hair.
"Lady Alicia... you really are magnificent."
"!"
I tried to pull away, but he caught my chin in his hand, holding me in place. What on earth was wrong with this man?!
He ignored my glare entirely, his gaze steady.
"In this house, a mark like yours is proof that you fought with pride. It’s a symbol of courage."
"Ugh..."
"I have them too, see?"
He brushed back his bangs, revealing a jagged, painful-looking scar on his forehead that looked like it had required dozens of stitches. Looking closer, I noticed several more faint marks along his neckline, partially hidden by his collar.
They were the marks of a survivor—someone who had endured the skirmishes and monster attacks that defined life in The Abandoned Land.
"In our house, we don't look down on scars. We take pride in them."
Following the scandal at the capital, several low-ranking nobles looking to climb the social ladder had told me similar things—saying that being "damaged goods" didn't change my beauty. But Laguna’s words carried a weight that theirs never did.
I stopped glaring and turned his words over in my mind.
Proof of having fought...
Was that disaster at the capital really a "fight"? What had I even been fighting for?
"Hahaha! Well, the real reason I brought breakfast myself was so I could have a chance to talk to you."
Seeing my silence, Laguna let go and stepped back, laughing awkwardly as if trying to clear the tension.
"This territory doesn't have much besides rough-and-tumble warriors, but the nature here is beautiful. Won't you come for a walk with me? When you're standing in front of the great outdoors, the squabbles of people seem pretty small."
"Small..."
Why had I fought so hard? For my pride as a noble? For my duty to my house?
No, it wasn't anything that grand. I simply couldn't stand the thought of another woman taking my place. I had overreacted, pushed things to a point of no return, and lost.
It was small. There were so many other things I could have done with my life, yet I had been so incredibly petty.
I felt myself starting to spiral into gloom again, but Laguna was my fiancé, and he was clearly trying to be kind. I forced myself to give him an answer.
"...I’ll go."
It wouldn't do to be a depressing guest in someone else’s home forever. Besides, I needed the fresh air.
"Will you show me around?"
"Of course. It would be my pleasure."
He was still incredibly rude, but I found myself becoming curious about him. He was trying so hard to be considerate, even if he clearly wasn't used to it.
It had been a long, long time since I’d been able to offer the Crown Prince the kind of carefree smile Laguna wore—a memory so distant it felt like another life entirely.