If You Cheat, Just Don’t Tell Me - Chapter 7

—Until that moment. (Freya)

I had been aware since childhood that I possessed talent. I was clearly better at both studies and sports than other children my age. I even quickly learned to use magic.

Having “talent” was normal. Both my parents and grandparents had it, so of course talent was expected of me too. That’s why my family rarely praised me for my abilities.

As Freya Spirits, the eldest daughter of the Spirits family—a lineage that had produced chancellors, knight commanders, court mages, and various other high-ranking officials for this country—I was born to lead others and had been raised with that education.

I was a terribly boring person, utterly devoid of any human charm.

Looking back on my life up to that point, I was truly a “living doll.” I studied diligently as my family told me, devoted myself to physical training, and spent my time practicing magic. I learned etiquette and made appearances in high society.

Not a single thing was of my own volition. I simply did everything I was told.

I could do it all without any effort. So, I did it. No one could possibly claim there was any will of my own in that.

In public, I would smile modestly with a fabricated expression, but when alone in my room, emotionless eyes would stare back at me in the mirror.

“Miss Spirits, you truly are excellent.”

“Thank you.”

Being praised by my teachers at school didn’t make me feel anything. Being commended for things I was supposed to be able to do didn’t bring me joy.

That was the life I lived. I thought I would continue living that way forever.

—Until that moment.

It was a shock. I never knew such people existed in this world.

It felt like my entire worldview had been shattered from its very foundation.

Normally, I was driven by carriage between home and school. But that day, the carriage was having issues, so I decided to walk home instead for a change of pace.

I wasn’t walking through any dangerous areas, just the usual route my carriage took.

So, it must have been a coincidence. Some thug in a bad mood must have targeted me, recognizing me at a glance as “rich.” My clearly glossy hair, braided and tied up, and my clothing made of smooth, high-quality fabric that protected my skin. Typical of the upper class stood out compared to the townspeople.

To anyone, I was obviously a young lady from a good family, and everyone knew that causing trouble with someone like me would lead to serious consequences. Yet, someone appeared who dared to lay hands on someone who should have been untouchable.

“Eeek!”

Suddenly shoved, my bag was snatched away. It happened so abruptly I couldn’t even brace myself and tumbled to the ground.

In all my life, I had never been suddenly pushed by anyone before. The shock of being shoved and the pain of hitting the ground froze my thoughts.

Why? How? I need to get it back! Such thoughts swirled in my head, but my body wouldn’t move.

The man who pushed me was a shabby-looking middle-aged man, the kind of person I would never normally allow to touch me.

I was scared. Normally, I would never feel such a thing. But I was terrified.

A man larger than me had suddenly shoved me and stolen my belongings. Now I understand it’s natural to feel instinctive fear. But at that time, I was too confused to even process that.

The people around were also stunned by the suddenness, unsure what to do. Even my attendant, who never expected something like this to happen, couldn’t react in time.

“Hey, stay put.”

A blunt voice, followed by an explosive roar I’d never heard before. The unfamiliar scent of oil tickled my nostrils.

“You bastard! You got a death wish?!”

A man riding a strange two-wheeled vehicle I’d never seen before had, before I knew it, caught the man who pushed me and retrieved my bag.

“Here. Don’t just stand there spacing out, be careful.”

Flustered, I caught the bag he tossed to me.

“Th-thank you!”

The whole sequence was too overwhelming to process. But one thing was clear: this black-haired, black-eyed man had saved me.

“Um… if you’d like, as thanks—”

“Hey! Someone takes this old man to the patrol! The rest of you, come with me to work!”

As the eldest daughter of the Spirits family and even more so as someone who had been helped, I tried to invite him home to express my gratitude, but my voice didn’t reach him.

By the time I noticed, many people on similar vehicles had gathered around him, and without so much as a glance in my direction, he roared off with that explosive sound.

“Um… who was that just now?”

My attendant answered my involuntary murmur.

“That was likely Dicca Regis. They say he’s the black sheep of the Regis family.”

“Dicca Regis…”

That was my first meeting with Dicca.

He doesn’t seem to remember it at all, and I had a vague certainty he wouldn’t, which is why I greeted him the way I did. But for me, it was a meeting I’ll probably never forget.

Born into the families of the “Sword Saint” and “Sage,” yet showing no sign of such heritage. Mastering that motorcycle, living freely as he cut through the wind.

That image of him burned vividly into my eyes. I genuinely thought he was amazing. He destroyed everything I had believed until then.

—From that day on, I stopped being a “living doll.”