Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 54

Calliope, who had been holding her stance with firm strength, lost her balance as her footing gave out and slipped. Lady Berchia quickly stepped back and prepared to strike.

“Ah!”

She would’ve landed the hit—if Calliope hadn’t accidentally kicked the inside of her own ankle as she slipped. As her posture faltered, Calliope regained her footing and swung her sword sideways. Lady Berchia chose to dodge instead of blocking it by force.

“Your eyes are intense.”

“What was that…”

Calliope smiled, pretending not to notice the sweat running down her cheek. Lady Berchia clenched her jaw as she looked at her, clearly irritated.

The two of them reset their stances and clashed again. Watching from the sidelines, their instructors exchanged a few impressed remarks.

“Oh? She’s doing better than I expected. Didn’t you say she only started a few months ago?”

“That’s true, but…”

Bellona tilted her chin slightly. Maybe she’s the type who’s naturally strong in real combat.

“Lady Berchia’s swordsmanship is textbook perfect.”

“Which is exactly why she fell for that ankle kick. Knights don’t use such scrappy tricks in formal duels.”

“There’s no such thing as a ‘scrappy’ technique in real combat.”

Valt’s tone was sharp, but the look on his face was one of amusement.

“Looks like Lady Berchia has finally met her match.”

The two continued exchanging blows for a while, but the gap in training began to show. Calliope slowly started to fall behind—likely due to both experience and stamina. Her arms began to ache from blocking Berchia’s increasingly sharp strikes.

“So this is my limit…”

“Hmph. Of course it is.”

It was the first time Lady Berchia had smiled all day. Unfortunately, the smirk she wore made her look smug, almost annoyingly so.

As Calliope held her guard, Lady Berchia swiftly pulled back and swung in a wide arc, aiming for her side. Calliope tried to angle her sword defensively, but Berchia’s blade didn’t stop at her side—it continued upward, striking Calliope’s sword with a forceful upward sweep.

“Ah!”

The impact jolted Calliope’s grip, and she lost hold of her sword. Her smooth wooden blade went flying behind her and landed with a soft thud on the packed dirt. Calliope dropped to her knees, breathless. Berchia, also catching her breath, lowered her sword.

Their teachers stepped forward—clearly having anticipated this outcome. Bellona helped Calliope to her feet, while Valt handed Lady Berchia a handkerchief.

Bellona commented casually, “Not bad, for your first match.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“You sure know how to accept compliments.”

“Well, someone’s got to take care of my self-esteem.”

Lady Berchia, wiping the sweat from her flushed cheeks with the handkerchief, glanced toward the chatting pair.

“Your sword has no foundation.”

“…Sorry?”

What now? Calliope stared back, unimpressed.

“And that ankle kick? That was cheap. What kind of knight goes for someone’s ankles?”

“Right…”

Calliope wasn’t the type to be wounded by harsh words, so she let the criticism pass as if it were the usual scolding from a superior. Lady Berchia didn’t seem to notice how little it landed.

“But still…”

Berchia clicked her tongue as she handed the handkerchief back to Valt. She clearly didn’t want to admit it, but she wasn’t petty enough to deny what she’d seen either.

“It wasn’t bad.”

Calliope latched onto it instantly.

“Oh, so all of that was just a setup for the compliment?”

“…What?”

Calliope tilted her head and gave a sweet smile.

“You’re really kind, Lady Berchia.”

“…You’ve got some nerve.”

Lady Berchia let out a laugh—half in disbelief, half in amusement—but Calliope held her smile firm. After all, they were going to keep seeing each other; no reason to make things cold or awkward.

Berchia looked at her for a moment, brow slightly furrowed, then turned sharply on her heel and started walking toward the mansion. She didn’t get far.

“Lady Berchia, the lesson’s not over yet.”

“…”

Valt was visibly holding back a laugh. Berchia turned around, stomping her way back to the group. Bellona clapped her hands together in front of the two girls.

“Well, now that we’ve exchanged greetings and had a taste of each other’s skill, let’s move into today’s lesson.”

And so, the two began training together regularly. To their surprise—it was more enjoyable than either had expected.

Lady Berchia, for all her bluntness, didn’t have a twisted personality. That meant Calliope didn’t need to overthink every interaction or conversation.

She’s easier to deal with than I thought.

By the time the two-hour session came to an end, Calliope’s clothes were covered in dust and dirt. Valt, despite his ever-cheerful face, was clearly a master at pushing people to their limits. Covered in just as much dirt, Lady Berchia approached Calliope.

“You haven’t been training that long, right? But your stamina and strength are solid.”

Berchia knew better than anyone how demanding Valt’s lessons could be. The fact that Calliope had kept up with the session without falling behind was impressive. It wasn’t just “decent for a noble girl”—it was genuinely good, even with the difficulty adjusted for their age.

Calliope shrugged as she spoke.

“Before I was officially accepted back into the marquessate, I lived in a village near the mountains.”

“You lived… in the mountains?”

“Well, something like that.”

She said it casually.

“I hunted, chopped wood, gathered firewood, did all the basic chores. I lived alone, so I had to do everything myself. I even worked in a blacksmith’s forge for a bit.”

“…Really?”

It wasn’t the kind of past one would normally speak of with pride, but that straightforward noblewoman probably wouldn’t know how to use the information against her. Besides, they were now in the same faction—there was no reason to clash.

Now that I think about it, maybe Duke Dylas agreed to the joint lessons with that in mind, too.

No matter how much trouble Lady Berchia had connecting with girls her age, if Calliope had belonged to a neutral or aristocrat-aligned faction, this never would’ve happened. But Marchioness Circe had been working hard to secure a space for House Anastas in the royalist camp. Perhaps House Dylas, Circe’s family, was lending a hand.

She’s engaged to a count from the king’s faction, and now she’s building ties with the king’s loyal Duke Dylas. The Marchioness is playing her cards well.

And Calliope had no intention of disrupting any of that.

“Well then, I’ll take my leave. Thank you for your time, Lady Berchia.”

“……”

Even after her polite farewell, Lady Berchia just stood there, silent. When Calliope glanced at her with a questioning look, Berchia mumbled something under her breath, turned sharply, and walked toward her instructor.

She really does struggle with people.

Calliope brushed the remaining dust from her clothes and headed for her carriage. Bellona had already departed, saying she had to return to the palace.

As Calliope neared the carriage, Susan, who had been waiting nearby, offered her a dry towel to wipe the dust.

“How was today’s lesson?”

“Better than I expected.”

“I was worried. They say Lady Berchia Dylas is very particular.”

“Particular… Yeah, I guess so.”

That was how the rumors went. She’d almost forgotten how different that image was from the real Berchia. In the past, Calliope had quite a tough time dealing with that cold, rigid girl. It really was true what they said—humans are creatures of forgetfulness. She’d nearly forgotten everything.

“We’re in the same faction now, so it’s better to keep things smooth between us. I’m tired. Let’s just get back to the estate.”

“Of course!”

After returning home, Calliope took a long bath and then collapsed on her bed, groaning from the stiffness in her muscles. Susan began massaging her limbs, trying to loosen the soreness that had already settled in just a few hours after training.

“Let’s hope this doesn’t affect tomorrow’s plans.”

Susan, still diligently kneading Calliope’s legs, tilted her head.

“I thought you didn’t have anything scheduled tomorrow?”

“I do. I have plans with Isaac.”

“Oh.”

Right. Her ladyship valued time with her fiancé more than official appointments. While Susan focused on her massage, Calliope turned her head toward Jack, who was loitering nearby, yawning with his eyes barely open.

“Jack, come with me tomorrow.”

“Eh? Why am I tagging along on your date?”

“I need to pick out a few more things for Isaac.”

He made a face of exhausted resignation.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re planning to give him the whole world.”

“If I could, I would. Then he wouldn’t have any room for other thoughts.”

Jack still looked baffled, but nodded dutifully. Orders were orders, after all. Calliope, still sprawled on her bed, pointed at the door.

“Go make a reservation at Auticle.”

“That place is so popular, if I book today, the earliest they’ll have is next month.”

“What’s the point of carrying the Anastas name if not for this?”

“Ah, so you do want me to throw your title around. Understood.”

Jack slouched his way out of the room, and Susan shook her head. The two of them had a noticeable age gap, but somehow, their dynamic worked strangely well.

The next morning, after getting ready at a leisurely pace, Calliope stood by the estate’s front gate dressed in a soft, pale blue dress, her hair neatly braided to one side. Susan stood beside her, as did Jack—his eyes still drowsy from waking up early for once, the whites of his eyes showing red from fatigue.

“Did you say your fiancé was coming to pick you up himself?”

“Of course. You should’ve heard how earnestly he asked.”

“I see…”

Susan thought back to Lady Calliope’s fiancé. Yes, he had a handsome face, but those pale white eyes made people uneasy, his aura was gloomy, his speech a bit awkward, and his voice was rough. To put it bluntly, she had always thought her lady was too good for him.

But before she could say anything, Calliope broke into a dreamy sigh.

“He was just… unbearably cute.”

“Ah. Right…”

“He even said he wanted to act like a real fiancé. Isn’t that sweet?”

“Yes… very.”

“Do you know what kind of miracle it takes to grow up that beautiful?”

Neglect and emotional starvation from House Esteban, Susan thought, staring blankly at the air. Her lady’s affection for her fiancé had clearly crossed into obsession. No, scratch that. It was obsession. Unfiltered and wholehearted.

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