To You, So Noble and Vulgar (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 2
February, Year 210 of the Lathan Calendar.
The nobles of Westerling, especially the ladies, were abuzz with excitement over the news that Cyrus Karha, Marquis of Northerling, would soon visit Westerling.
Cyrus, who had ascended to the marquisate at the youngest age in its history, was trailed by countless rumors.
Among them, what thrilled the ladies most was the rumor that he was as breathtakingly beautiful as the moon hanging aloof in the night sky.
Ever since Cyrus’s visit became known, the women of Westerling chattered about him whenever they gathered.
“His face is as smooth and lustrous as a pearl.”
“They say even Princess Charlotte of the imperial capital yields a point to the Marquis of Northerling.”
“Even in the dark, his silver hair gleams like the moon.”
“And his eyes! They say they’re like rubies. Even the secretly circulating portraits fail to capture his full beauty.”
“I wish I could see the Marquis use ice magic. Is it true he can conjure magnificent ice sculptures from nothing?”
“Magic, you say… If the Marquis were to create an ice flower just for me, I’d die content.”
Yet even as they gossiped, these women knew their hopes would never come to pass.
Though Cyrus, Marquis of Northerling, possessed a beauty seemingly descended from heaven, he was famed for the cruelty and coldness within him—like a ruler of hell.
“They say he killed on the spot a dancer who sneaked into his garden at night without permission.”
“He often ignores even Princess Charlotte when she greets him.”
“Have you heard the rumor that he prefers men? He’s always accompanied by an alchemist named Isaac.”
“His Imperial Majesty himself wishes to take the Marquis as a son-in-law—someone like us has no chance at all.”
The very Cyrus who had stirred Westerling’s social circles had already slipped into the manor of Duke Bronte, a noble of Westerling.
Cyrus sat perched atop a large tree within the duke’s estate, accompanied by Isaac—the very alchemist of rumor.
Though the branches remained bare and stark in the lingering chill, no one passing through the manor grounds noticed them.
Cyrus sat comfortably on a thick branch, casting a cold gaze toward a certain window.
His eyes, fixed upon the figure within that room, were so icy and sharp they seemed capable of cutting someone down with a mere look.
Unlike Cyrus, Isaac’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he spoke.
“Is that child truly born of the Marquis of Easterling and Rachel? Her appearance is a mess, yet she’s quite pretty. Now that I look closely, she even resembles the Marquis of Easterling.”
“…….”
“Still, how pitiful she is. Had she remained in Dongryeong, she’d be a princess—but here in Westerling, she suffers such treatment… Duchess Bronte is truly harsh. Is that how one treats one’s own daughter?”
As Isaac said, the young girl beyond the window indeed looked pitiful.
Her hair was tangled from lack of washing, her body thin from hunger. The maid’s dress she wore was far too small, leaving her arms and legs exposed.
Her room held nothing but a single desk—no bed—and she had been locked inside for days, unable to step outside.
Her daily routine consisted only of briefly peering out through the locked window or eating the meal delivered once every other day.
Though anyone would feel sympathy in such a situation, Cyrus’s eyes watching her held only coldness.
Isaac turned toward Cyrus, his liege and longtime friend.
“Even if that child is the daughter of the man who wronged your parents—or perhaps even your parents’ enemy herself—she’s innocent. What could she possibly know? She doesn’t even seem to get proper meals.”
“Hmm.”
For the first time, an expression appeared on Cyrus’s face.
His red lips curved into a cool line.
“She doesn’t seem entirely ignorant to me.”
Cyrus’s impression of her differed from Isaac’s.
At first glance, she appeared deserving of pity—but a closer look told another story.
Her eyes held a detachment unbecoming of a sixteen-year-old; her expression remained unmoved even by the maid’s rude demeanor when delivering meals; and whenever she gazed out the window, an indescribable aura surrounded her.
Simply being the daughter of the Marquis of Easterling and Rachel was enough to make Cyrus dislike her, and her unnaturally composed demeanor only deepened his irritation.
It seemed as though something Cyrus couldn’t even fathom lay hidden within her sapphire-bright blue eyes.
“Oh dear…”
Isaac sighed at that moment.
“That maid is heading toward Ariana’s room again, carrying food scraps.”
+++
A room containing nothing but a desk—no bed at all.
Ariana sat upright on a dining chair, wrapped in a worn-out blanket.
With pale sky-blue hair, a fair and delicate face, elegantly arched eyebrows, large eyes, deep pupils like a lake, a small upturned nose, and round, red lips, she had the youthful features befitting a sixteen-year-old girl—yet her eyes told a different story.
Hatred and pain, utterly inconceivable in a noble girl of sixteen, were etched into those eyes.
Ariana stared coldly at the desk before her, but what reflected in her eyes was something else entirely.
Painful days of struggling for love, only to be used—and death.
‘Has it been four days already?’
Ariana herself didn’t understand what had happened.
The rough sensation of the rope tightening around her neck still felt vivid—but somehow, when she opened her eyes, she had returned twelve years into the past.
Back to the time when she’d been locked in this room, falsely accused of stealing her mother Rachel’s necklace.
Though confused and startled at first, those emotions quickly settled.
Her contemplation over why this had happened ended swiftly as well.
Whatever the cause, she had returned twelve years into the past—and Ariana had been given another chance to live.
-“You were simply wrong to be born, Ariana.”
They had denied Ariana’s very existence—but someone had allowed her to live once more.
‘Then I shall live.’
A cold smile briefly touched Ariana’s lips before vanishing.
‘I’ll make you regret having given me life—regret that my existence has endured until now.’
Ariana tightly clenched the hands resting on her knees.
She heard the sound of a maid approaching down the corridor.
Ariana already knew exactly what would happen today.
.
.
In her past life.
Ariana had done nothing but cry.
She wept because her mother refused to believe the truth, because she feared disappointing her mother, and because the darkness of late nights—without even a lamp—terrified her.
Then, whenever Louise, Helena’s maid, brought spoiled food, Ariana would refuse to eat it and end up beaten.
Today in her past life had been no different.
Louise had come bearing food scraps discarded from the kitchen on a plate, and Ariana, revolted by the stench of rot, had stubbornly refused to eat.
Louise kept insisting she eat, and Ariana’s voice grew louder as she resisted.
Just then, the elderly Duchess Bronte, passing by in the corridor, witnessed the scene and asked what was going on.
Rachel, who stood beside the duchess, gently placed a hand on the older woman’s arm and spoke in a voice brimming with concern.
“Mother, I’ve confined that child to her room temporarily for stealing my necklace. I told her to eat like the maids while she reflects—but she still refuses to show remorse and only acts willful.”
If Rachel’s words were true, her actions were hardly excessive.
After all, locking a child in their room with inferior meals and making them write a letter of repentance was common discipline in any noble household for wrongdoing like theft.
The elderly Duchess Bronte believed Rachel—but Ariana protested.
“No, Mother! I didn’t steal your necklace! Truly!”
That was her undoing.
Someone—likely Louise—had planted Rachel’s necklace deep inside Ariana’s only desk drawer.
The elderly Duchess Bronte, who cared deeply about others’ opinions, reputation, and noble propriety, flew into a rage and ordered Louise to beat Ariana.
Even as the maid struck her calves, Ariana wept, insisting she hadn’t stolen anything. Enraged by Ariana’s unrepentant attitude, the elderly duchess commanded she be confined for another week.
That night, as Ariana lay exhausted from crying, Rachel came to visit.
Looking down at Ariana, Rachel said,
“Ariana, seeing you today has truly disappointed me. Even if you didn’t steal it yourself, you should know to cover for your sister’s mistakes. I had hoped you’d cherish your elder sister…”
It had been Helena who accused Ariana of stealing Rachel’s necklace. Even knowing Helena had lied, Rachel had still expected Ariana to cover for her.
Not wanting to disappoint her mother, Ariana immediately knelt and begged for forgiveness.
-“I’m sorry, Mother. I was wrong. Please don’t be disappointed in me.”
.
.
Remembering that day, coldness hardened in Ariana’s blue eyes.
‘How utterly foolish I was. Why should I care about that woman’s disappointment?’
Dongryeong, which had rendered great service during the founding of the Cameria Empire, was the most trusted of the four vassal states—East, West, South, and North.
Especially since the current emperor held the current Marquis of Easterling in high regard and affection, the Marquis of Westerling devised a scheme to sow discord between the emperor and the Marquis of Easterling—by marrying his daughter Rachel to the Marquis of Easterling.
Rachel already had a man she loved, but as a princess of Westerling, she had no choice but to marry a man she didn’t love for the sake of her homeland.
‘She must have borne me just to avoid suspicion.’
Though the Marquis of Easterling married Rachel to secure peace with Westerling, he likely never fully set aside his doubts.
Rachel gained his trust through pregnancy and passed Dongryeong’s secrets to the Marquis of Westerling.
Immediately after delivering useful intelligence, Rachel divorced the Marquis of Easterling and returned to Westerling, and the Marquis of Westerling skillfully used that information to drive a wedge between the emperor and the Marquis of Easterling.
-“I never wanted to give birth to you.”
-“It would have been better if you’d died in my womb.”
Though Ariana had heard those words as if brainwashed, she’d still believed that one day her mother would love her.
If I behave well, if I work hard, if I prove useful—then she’ll love me.
It had been a foolish belief.
Rachel took perverse pleasure in tormenting Ariana, who resembled the Marquis of Easterling.
The woman Ariana had called “Mother” had never once regarded her as a daughter.
‘To have realized that truth only upon my death…’
Looking back now, it had been a stupidity worthy of death.
Click- Click-
The sound of the lock outside her door turning reached her ears.
Ariana erased the burning resentment from her eyes and calmly fixed her gaze on the door.
Without even a knock, the door opened, and Louise entered, holding a tray.
The moment she stepped inside, the stench of rotting food filled the room.
In her past life, could the elderly Duchess Bronte truly not have smelled the foul odor saturating this room?
‘She must have known. She just chose to pretend otherwise. But…’
Ariana calmly watched as Louise brought the filthy food scraps toward her.
‘Will she be able to pretend not to know this time?’
Male lead is reincarnated to save his wife
I’ve also read this one twice already. The female lead is kinda soft and gets embarrassed easily—not really my type, but the plot is definitely worth reading. Hurry up and read it, y’all!
Intro
When Shen Yuan encountered Su Jin again in his previous life, she had already become the Prime Minister of the current dynasty. As for him, the former top young master of the capital, he had long since fallen into the abyss, becoming a singer on a pleasure boat.
After a song ended, he was redeemed and sent to the Su Residence.
Su Jin respected and cherished him, gave him a roof over his head, and bestowed him with warmth. Shen Yuan fell deeper and deeper, but before he could express his feelings, Su Jin passed away.
Shen Yuan died to follow her in death, but instead, he returned to when he was fifteen years old.
At that time, he was not yet engaged, and Su Jin was just a poor scholar.
Shen Yuan gritted his teeth, casting aside all his pride, and thought of ways to coax and entice her every day.
The colder and more indifferent Su Jin was towards him, the more proactive Shen Yuan became.
He was not afraid of being mocked by the world, only wanting to marry his Wife-master early, to hold her hand and never let go for a lifetime.
[Note: This story will not specifically point out the male lead’s reincarnation time point; it’s all in the details. Whenever you feel that the male lead is acting strangely, he has most likely been reincarnated.]
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
I finally found the chapter corresponding to chapter 42 of the manhwa!
Here’s a mother who refutes the “instinctive motherhood” notion.