64.

What… did you say you found? You didn’t show any sign of it this morning? Ro propped herself halfway up, her body slackening from its previous sprawl. Cardier, bursting into laughter at her dazed expression, cupped both her cheeks in his palms and peppered her with tiny kisses. He nibbled so adorably that, with her eyes closed, it almost felt like a puppy playfully nipping at her. That said, his gaze was gradually taking on a dangerously mischievous glint, so he wasn’t entirely innocent like a puppy.

“Wait just a moment… speak… properly…”

“What… about?”

“The thing you said earlier. You found a fencing instructor? Who is this person?”

“A.”

Cardier lowered his eyes, looking slightly awkward.

“Aren’t you hungry? Should we eat first and continue talking later?”

…Just who was the man shamelessly sucking and biting on her lips mere moments ago? Anyway, he was certainly skilled at changing the subject. It seemed the fencing master didn’t quite meet Cardier’s standards. Ro felt a surge of pride at accurately guessing Cardier’s thoughts. Of course. No matter how much one pretended to be grown up, experience couldn’t be faked.

“You can just give me a rough idea. Who is he?”

“He’s not someone particularly impressive, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“…Really?”

Ro scratched her head. After all, she had only intended to use the fencing instructor as a pretext to occasionally clear the training grounds during specific hours. Even as a young marchioness, she couldn’t just order the vast training grounds to be vacated without a valid reason.

In her previous life, she had been proficient with most weapons. Of course, there had been weapons that suited her best, but they were impossible to wield with this current frail body. With arms this weak, she couldn’t even lift a shamshir that was 8 dikkem (about 80 centimeters) long.

Ro assumed Cardier would assign her a teacher who primarily used daggers. Naturally, such a man wouldn’t be a knight with verified credentials, so she understood why Cardier, so obsessed with her safety, would be hesitant. Still, she had expected him to at least pick someone genuinely skilled. If this man turned out to be mediocre, she’d just pay him and have him kill time until she dismissed him.

Ro shrugged.

“Well, alright. I’m sure you chose wisely.”

* * *

“You, you, you…!”

She froze stiff, one finger raised accusingly like a staff. Ro trembled like a broken wind-up clock, repeating the same sound over and over. She was so flabbergasted that words wouldn’t come out.

“Good morning, madam?”

In stark contrast to Ro’s utter panic, Turner appeared extremely composed. Ro, convinced she must be dreaming, pinched her arm hard.

…Damn it, that hurt. Hurt enough to bring tears to her eyes. So what she was seeing wasn’t a dream after all… Turner, sipping tea in the Montrosa mansion’s drawing room! And even adding milk to it!

Ro took a few calm, deep breaths and then rushed over like a madwoman. If there hadn’t been a maid nearby serving tea, she would’ve grabbed him by the collar immediately.

“…What are you doing here?”

Her harsh tone startled the maid, who had just begun pouring tea, making her eyes widen in shock. Rosetta forced a smile a beat too late. Even if she tried making a polite “ohoho” sound, her glaring, narrowed eyes made the gesture completely ineffective.

“Oh. You haven’t heard from the young marquis, then?”

And now he was using formal speech, too. As if aware he was deep within Montrosa territory, he was even mindful of the surrounding servants. Ro crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow.

“Haven’t heard what?”

“I’ve been appointed as the lady’s fencing instructor. Starting today.”

“….”

She had just thought to herself that Cardier must’ve chosen wisely… Now Ro wanted nothing more than to slap her own mouth shut for saying that last night. Damn it, Cardier, do you really have no eye for people? Or is this a warning? Are you telling me you know where I went that night? That I shouldn’t even think about sneaking out of the estate again? Were all the men tailing me that night your men?

Her mind spun chaotically, overwhelmed by emotions she couldn’t sort out. But aside from that, the idea that Turner was supposed to teach her was utterly laughable.

“You… expect me to learn from you?”

Turner was an information broker. True, the scope of Turner’s operations wasn’t just limited to information; he was closer to a fixer. He found people, eliminated them, and occasionally handled messy cleanup jobs. But those tasks were always carried out by his subordinates… As far as Ro remembered, Turner himself was just a desk-bound man.

Granted, judging by his evenly developed musculature, he had probably trained in martial arts to some degree, and occasionally his movements seemed unnaturally sharp… Still, in Ro’s eyes, he had always been several levels beneath her. Thinking back on that past, no matter how hard she tried not to, she couldn’t help but find it ridiculous.

“If you’re just going to teach me half-heartedly, then just pass the time at the training ground and leave. I’ll make sure you get paid.”

Turner gave her a slow, appraising look up and down, then smirked. Ro tightened her crossed arms, instinctively covering her slender arms. Of all days, today she had dressed in comfortable, practical clothes for training—she had removed all the lace, frills, and cumbersome decorations. It felt incredibly comfortable, which was great… but under that kind of gaze, she felt like a lion that had lost its mane.

“Well, at least your overflowing confidence is admirable.”

…This guy? While Ro was still stunned, Turner drained the last of his tea and stood up.

“Since you’re already dressed appropriately, shall we start by taking a look around the training ground?”

Then, as if the mansion were his own home, he walked out of the drawing room and started heading somewhere. He showed no sign of being intimidated by the building’s grandeur or splendor—his demeanor was bold and self-assured. Ro followed behind him, annoyed, yet couldn’t help but acknowledge his confidence. But as soon as they turned a corner, Turner suddenly stopped, nearly causing Ro to slam her nose into his back.

“What—what is it?”

“Ah… well…”

“….”

“Which way is the training ground again?”

…Damn it. I really can’t trust this guy at all.

* * *

The Montrosa training ground, which should have been packed with training retainers and naval officers, was completely empty. Ro had worried there might be internal resistance since she had abruptly claimed the training space, but instead, her reputation seemed to be leaning toward the favorable side.

Recently, a trend had been spreading through the capital’s high society, led by the Imperial Princess, celebrating women who enjoyed hunting. A portrait of the Imperial Princess wearing riding breeches—traditionally seen as men’s attire—while hunting deer had been published in a weekly magazine, and the ripple effect had shaken the capital’s social circles.

Given this trend, while some viewed it with disapproval as mere bandwagoning, there was also widespread expectation that the future lady of the Montrosa household should at least possess basic skill in swordsmanship. Of course, Rosetta had no idea such opinions even existed.

“Let’s first see what basic talent you have.”

Ro eyed Turner suspiciously as he swung his hips back and forth. Turner picked up a wooden practice sword the size of a short dagger from a rack full of them and stood in front of Rosetta with a smile. Ro frowned.

“I’ll say this one more time…”

Before she could finish her sentence, something shot from her blind spot toward the back of her neck at incredible speed. Instinctively, she raised her arm to block. She braced her shoulder tightly for the impact—but Turner’s strike halted abruptly about one dikkem away from her neck. He lowered the wooden sword, staring at her with disbelief.

“How… how is your reaction speed even possible?”

…Damn it, this insane talent. Rosetta awkwardly lowered her arm after instinctively blocking his attack. If she now claimed she’d never held a sword before, anyone who believed her would have to be blind. Or a complete idiot. Turner seemed to share that opinion. He let out a disbelieving chuckle and grabbed Rosetta’s arm, examining it closely from all angles.

“…Rumor had it you were terribly clumsy.”

Ro let out a scoffing laugh.

“Me? Clumsy? Who said that?”

“That ball at the Lenouac residence. Weren’t you the talk of the town for not even dancing well, not even as a polite exaggeration?”

“….”

“Yeah. Rumors really can’t be trusted, huh?”

For a split second, Ro’s face twisted as if she’d bitten something foul. She wanted to slap that smug look right off Turner’s face, but she was utterly stunned by how far her own body had changed.

When she first woke up in Lea’s body, the first few weeks felt like being forcibly stuffed into ill-fitting clothes—everything was stiff and awkward. Breathing, bending her leg for a waltz, even lifting a glass of water—every small movement took excessive effort.

But as time passed… how should she describe it? There were moments when it felt like her body finally fit her perfectly, like it had truly become her own. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when or how much it improved, but especially today… Ro was deep in thought when she suddenly felt a sharp gaze and looked up.

Turner was already watching her with intense curiosity. Startled, she took a step back, but he immediately closed the gap, stepping forward as she retreated. Turner leaned in, tilting his head slightly as if to whisper in her ear. His voice dropped to a secretive, intimate murmur.

“But you know… you…”