NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1.1 - Rosevelia Winters
“This is… what the hell?”
A dry chuckle escaped my lips at the sight before me. The training hall was completely empty, and the wooden practice swords, which should have been neatly stored in the racks, were scattered haphazardly across the floor.
Come to think of it, wasn’t today the last day of the festival?
Before coming here, I’d run into Lucas, who had been practically vibrating with excitement.
He had invited me to join him in the square, but I had declined. Still, knowing Lucas—the one who sets the tone for the entire knight order…
“He must have stirred everyone up.”
The thought of his antics was so vivid that a dull headache began to form.
Even if it is the last day of the festival, how on earth did they leave this place in such a state?
A restrained sigh slipped through my teeth. I had sworn not to clean up after others in this life, but looking at this disaster, I couldn’t just leave it alone.
I untied the ribbon from around my wrist and used it to tie back my golden hair, which reached down to my waist.
Just as I bent down to pick up one of the wooden swords lying at my feet…
“Senior.”
The deep, pleasant voice sent a shiver down my spine.
I was certain I had never heard this voice before, but why did I suddenly feel so uneasy?
“…”
“Senior?”
Turning toward the source of the voice, I saw a man standing silently. Slowly, I raised my gaze, blinking in disbelief.
I knew this face all too well.
Hair as dark as the blackest night, yet with a subtle undertone of deep navy that seemed to shimmer like the twilight sky. It was as if someone had captured the essence of a starless night.
And beneath that, piercing eyes the color of pale blue fire…
In other words, the man standing before me was none other than the male protagonist from a novel I had read in my previous life. A cold-blooded war fanatic who had refused the love of the terminally ill heroine in the original story.
A tyrant who, despite being a supporting character, was hailed as the Empire’s greatest swordsman—and ultimately met his end fighting Rosevelia, the original owner of this body.
Ian Klein Martinez.
In the latter half of the novel, Rosevelia had sought refuge in a foreign land, only to face Ian repeatedly on the battlefield as he waged war as a tyrant. Ultimately, she had died fighting him.
If the story followed its original course, he would kill me, and I would kill him in return…
In short, we were destined to fight like animals and die together.
The memory of the novel’s grim ending made it feel like the air had been sucked from my lungs.
In the original story, he was merely a supporting character, yet renowned as the Empire’s greatest swordsman. The tyrant who ultimately fights and kills the protagonist of this body—Rozebellia.
Ian Klein Martinez.
Midway through the novel, Rozebellia, who had sought asylum in another country, repeatedly clashed with Ian on the battlefield as he rose to power as a tyrant waging war. In the end, she also met her demise fighting him.
According to the original plot, he kills me, and I kill him in return…
In other words, we fight like animals, and eventually, both of us die…
Just recalling the dreadful conclusion of the original story made it hard to breathe.
“…What’s wrong?”
“I’ll take care of the cleanup, senior.”
“All right, go ahead.”
As Ian began picking up the broken wooden swords, I instinctively stepped back. Only when there was some distance between us did I feel like I could finally breathe again.
Calm down. Neither Ian nor I are going to kill each other right now, right?
Yes, for now, we’re just senior and junior knights.
After taking a few deep breaths, Ian’s back came into view as he silently cleaned up the training ground.
When I hesitantly approached to help, I felt his gaze flick towards me. There was a trace of curiosity in his eyes.
“….”
“If we do it together, it’ll be done faster.”
My awkwardness made my tone come off curt. Ian merely shrugged and continued gathering the wooden swords.
As he collected them all in his arms and approached me, I gestured toward the storage rack with my eyes.
I knew he was tall, but he was really tall.
That wasn’t all. The original story described him as having a solid build, chiseled features, and deep, mysterious eyes that made women’s hearts flutter.
I had dismissed it as a typical male-lead exaggeration, but seeing him now, the description felt like an understatement. Ian’s appearance was striking—so much so that I found myself staring without even realizing it.
“Have you thought about it?”
“Thought about what…?”
I felt my thoughts slow, unable to fully grasp what he was saying.
“I didn’t think you’d play dumb.”
“Huh?”
His gaze swept over me, scrutinizing every detail, and tension prickled up my spine.
Though his demeanor was polite, as if addressing a senior, there was something subtly insolent in his gaze.
Well, no matter how hard I tried to conceal my true identity, it wasn’t as if I could completely hide the inherent pride of royalty.
Ian, the first prince of the Fonnes Empire, had hidden his identity and joined the White Knights as a new recruit—something I already knew from the original story.
But this situation…
“To my knowledge, you weren’t drunk, senior.”
Ian’s sudden remark made my throat tighten.
“I might’ve been.”
“Are you saying you were so drunk that you don’t remember that night?”
“That night…?”
“The eve of the festival.”
The eve of the festival? My mouth went dry at the unexpected phrase.
The eve of the festival would mean the day before the celebrations began. I’d heard that the festival here lasted three days.
Since today was the last day of the festival, the eve he mentioned would have been exactly four days ago.
I discreetly bit my lower lip. Though it was only four days ago, I had no memory of that night.
What excuse should I make? Should I insist I was drunk and didn’t remember?
“Well… you know how some people don’t show it even when they’re drunk?”
I forced a smile, but Ian’s expression instantly hardened.
“Did you forget? Or do you want to forget?”
“No, I just… I’d rather pretend it didn’t happen.”
Was I too blunt?
When my gaze met Ian’s trembling eyes, I quickly looked away.
“…”
“If we do it together, it’ll be done faster.”
My awkwardness made my tone come off curt. Ian simply shrugged and continued picking up the wooden swords.
Eventually, he approached with his arms full of wooden swords. I motioned toward the storage rack with my eyes.
I knew he was tall, but he was really tall.
And that wasn’t all. The original story described him as having a solid build, sculpted features, and eyes so deep they could make any woman’s heart flutter.
I had brushed it off as the typical exaggeration of a male lead, but seeing him now, the description felt lacking. Ian’s appearance was so striking it rendered me momentarily spellbound.
“Have you given it some thought?”
“Given what some thought…?”
My thoughts slowed, and I couldn’t grasp what he meant.
“I didn’t expect you to play dumb.”
“Huh?”
His gaze swept over me, scrutinizing every inch, and tension crept up my spine.
Though his demeanor was polite, as if addressing a senior, there was an unmistakable insolence in his eyes.
Well, no matter how much I tried to conceal my identity, it wasn’t as if I could completely hide the inherent pride of royalty.
Ian, the first prince of the Fonnes Empire, had hidden his identity to join the White Knights as a recruit—a detail I already knew from the original story.
But this situation…
“To my knowledge, you weren’t drunk, senior.”
Ian’s sudden remark made my throat tighten.
“I might have been.”
“You’re saying you were so drunk you don’t remember that night?”
“That night…?”
“The eve of the festival.”
The eve of the festival? The unexpected phrase made my mouth dry.
The eve of the festival would mean the day before the celebrations began. I’d heard that the festival here lasted three days.