The Villainess Comes Back in Time to Find the One Who Truly Loved Her One Week Before Dying

My name is Irene Cathcart, eighteen. The profession is maid of honor and the workplace and residence is the Duke of Rosedale. She was born as the third daughter of Baron Cathcart, a distant relative of the Rosedale family.

The Baron who was my father was a born player from a young age, and I had six brothers and sisters born from five different mothers, even as I know it.

Nor was I the son of a full-wife, a child born at random to a mother whom the baron was a maid of honor. However, the Baron was a person who made no distinction or discrimination at all between the sons of his rightful wife and the sons of his concubines. The criteria for whether he adored his child were very clear, it was only the strength of magic and the strength of magic.

The Baron was a man of relatively common thought among the nobles of the Magic Kingdom - a strong adherence to something by an unusual extent that strong magic had absolute value. That could have been a recoil coming from the complex against the fact that the person's magic was faint.

However, noble children with strong magic in this country might be able to appreciate that the baron had a realistic and rational mindset in a way, since that alone would increase his value as a marriage partner.

Seven brothers, including myself, of course, the only one with no magic at all (unable to recognize magic exactly), though it was no more convenient for me to think about it.

So for the Baron, I was alike without him. I have never been abused by the Baron. Because we hardly ever see each other in person.

While my mother was alive, my mother and I lived quietly in an annex for servants. I think it was a peaceful normal mother-child family.

My brothers and sisters have been bullying and harassing me as if I remembered occasionally.

But I think that was probably just a good experiment for them to point at the whimsical brutality of their children, or just the right sandbags to exude the stress I had built up in a gizgi & drool state home, that I would step on and kill bugs for no reason.

So most of them were single-shot, nothing that persisted.

Even after my mother, who was sick and weak, died at the age of eleven, the Baron Cathcart family was a normal driver, except for the fact that my only talker and base of mind disappeared.

Instead, my brothers and sisters, who were bullying me, enrolled one at a time in the School of Magic from the elderly, and even if they didn't, they lost interest in me, and my routine became more peaceful than before.

It's just that that peaceful routine of mine is, so to speak, "just alive". I spent most of my day not seeing anyone and not talking to anyone. I never had trouble with clothing and living, but unfortunately I couldn't find the point of living. This "peaceful routine" of mine lasted about three years.

One day, when I was fourteen, there was a call from the Baron. The reason for the call is my path.

I'm sorry, I forgot, but you're not going to magic school, so I thought I'd have to decide what to do.

The baron, who has said so with a nostalgic grin, offered me two options. One is to dwell on the late wife of an old aristocrat in her sixties. Two is to work as a maid of abode at the Duke of Rosedale home of a distant relative.

'I think it's probably easier this way. They assign me to some tough place at the Duke of Rosedale, don't they? Oh, of course, if there's a man or something already, you can get him out of here tonight, but he can get it right. What do we do?'

The baron was like, "What are you gonna do for dinner today?" and other levels of ease, demanding that I make the choices that will determine my future life on the spot.

As I listened to him, I remember him blurring that maybe it wasn't the fact that he "forgot a little" was "I'm not going to magic school," it was "my presence".

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I chose the way to work at the Rosedale family. The baron replied, "Oh, that way? Okay. I'll arrange it, so you can pack your bags by the end of the week," which was as easy and cheerful as ever.

The "tough spot" to which I was assigned at the Rosedale family was the position of the Duke's maid of honor, Lady Chelsea's exclusive maid.

Apparently she was a very impatient lady who grew up spoiled, and was talking about having multiple maids quit already to show that impatience in a pretty aggressive direction.

The first week was certainly as rumored. Though it wasn't that bitter for me to have had enough tolerance for bullying and harassment, I thought it must have been tough for a girl who grew up in a normal environment to serve this young lady.

I also remember how impressed I was for some reason that "an eight-year-old can put up such a painful binta". I'm sure he was used to tension.

But things have changed dramatically in a week since I came to the mansion. The lady, who had an unexplained high fever and fell asleep for two days, then developed memory problems due to the aftermath of the high fever, although the fever dropped. And the association with memory problems is unknown, but the lady after recovery had changed her personality dramatically.

'Sorry, never mind. I get it. I'm waiting for you in bed. Thank you.'

'I'm so sorry so far. I'll change my attitude from now on, so please keep it up.'

'I'm sorry to surprise you. I just wanted to apologize.'

"Thank you. I'm a bummer, thank you forever."

I still remember the day the lady's fever went down. Honestly, it was actually me, not the lady, who got the fever off the way, and I thought I was hallucinating and dreaming.

And that day, the lady hugged me with that little body. As far as I can remember, the lady was the second person to hold me, and she was the first other than my late mother.

Since that day, the lady has somehow begun to treat me visibly and bewitch me. I had stopped saying anything about other servants, but the treatment of me was clearly out of line with the rest.

The lady, who has always had a dry, clerical attitude toward her family, has always smiled at me, sweetening me like a sister who admires her favorite sister.

How much preference and disgrace were received, so much so that rumors appeared inside and outside the mansion that "Lady Chelsea has stopped opening her mind to anyone but your own exclusive maid since she fell ill".

... No, the phrase "inside information leaked" may be correct because it was a fact-based story to call a rumor.

I had no idea why you were doing this myself, so I asked the lady herself a thoughtful question. "Why do you only adore me so much," he said.

The lady gave a look like she had trouble answering for a moment, but then said, "There's no particular reason. Because I just love Irene," he replied.

That was the moment when I was first "loved" by someone other than my mother.

When I told the lady that I had "been told by someone other than my mother that I loved her for the first time" without any particular profound significance at the end of the thank-you, the lady with the surprised face began to say "I love you" frequently and without any pulse abbreviations since.

Those days went on for a while, and rumors broke out in the mansion about whether there was a servant who thought it was not funny for the lady to treat me alone, "I cursed the lady and brainwashed her". The rumors caused me to be a little isolated among my servants.

I wasn't particularly comfortable getting used to malice from others. I can curse = I can use the magic of the spell system = I have magic, so I laughed bitterly whining, "If I did, I wouldn't be here," though.

But the lady who heard the rumor from somewhere was so furious that her face turned bright red that a few days later, she hung up Teng himself who spread the rumor and let him retire voluntarily.

I then remember getting an apology from several other servants for some reason. I really didn't think anything about this one, so on the contrary, I was confused by the apology.

This incident prompted me to change. Or so I remembered. I saw the lady declaring, "I forgive you this time, but next time, if you don't talk to me about the trouble again, this is the time I'm going to the convent," and I felt like something big and heavy that was in my heart wouldn't melt away.

If I noticed, I was crying from hugging a lady from myself before I even knew it. I realized at that moment that I had forgotten how to weep since I lost my mother. The gray membrane that was covering the world with the tears had melted off and the color was back in my world.

Think of it, I had rarely received goodwill or favors from anyone but my mother until then, and I had not figured out how to take the favor the lady directed at me and handle it. Rather than that, I had forgotten what other people's good intentions and favors were in themselves.

He wants to protect me, he's angry for me, he wants to help me, he says he likes me. He smiles at me. I could finally remember that day that "... yes, good intentions and favors were like this," I said.

And when the "something big and heavy" that had occupied most of the space up to now was gone and empty, my mind was filled in an instant with "favor and goodwill" towards the lady that had accumulated by then.

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The lady had the ability to predict. That predictive ability was activated when I was eight years old when I was given a high fever, and although to an extremely limited extent, I was told that I had a predictive dream. The moment I heard the story from the lady, three long-standing questions in me were resolved.

The first is where the character of the lady has changed suddenly since the fever dropped. I thought that the change was not just about memory impairment, but strongly influenced predictive dreams, which also had predictive dreams of what would face a life crisis in the near future.

Maybe the lady thought about changing her behavior to change the "future she's about to be killed" she dreamed of.

The second is that this does not entirely leave the boundaries of speculation, but is why you have come to favour and treat me.

The lady didn't say anything about the area, but maybe I was the person in the predictive dream who behaved more favourably for the lady than any other servant or, in some cases, your family. If so... me in my dreams, well done.

The third is the identity of a person named "Mason" whose name the lady occasionally calls in her bedtime remarks. According to the lady's words, the person saves the lady's life in her dreams, and her "destiny" is bound to the lady.

And he was an adventurer, saying that it was also an effort to be with the lady one day that she had been able to work her magic from an early age.

The lady's refusal to talk about all the engagements was also, of course, to be tied to that "destiny man". From the lady's words there was a deep fondness and affection for the "destined man" whom she met in her dreams.

Of course, it had also been conveyed to me that the lady would turn her fondness and affection towards me, but that the fondness and affection for him was of a different kind than that for me.

... Don't be jealous. I was honestly very happy to hear rumors that at some point the lady and I weren't actually same-sex couples because the lady is the one who immediately turns down all engagement stories. Even though I knew it was unlikely, I sincerely hoped it would happen.

Once I had excused myself so that no misunderstandings would arise, it was by no means that I was spreading rumors myself and doing a selfie.... No really.

The young lady's ability to predict turned out to be inspired by the hasty young lady's most trusting consultation with me and Lady Sylvia on what to do.

What was the lady in a hurry? That was that the lady's "destiny man" could be tied to other women if she didn't find them and take them to the mansion as soon as possible.

When I heard about it, I said, "Are men really" destined "to be tied to other women when left alone? Aren't you just a cheater? I would never do that, wouldn't you do that to me," he exclaimed excitedly in his heart.

And Master Sylvia said, "... hey, Mr. Chelsea, isn't your" destiny man "Mr. Irene, after all?" You said something nice.

I knew I didn't care what you thought, did I? Dear Sylvia, tell that to your daughter.