007

I crossed out yesterday's date. Now it's Thursday, the 24th of August, 298 R. According to Sophia's explanation, her parents will be returning today and will pick her up in the evening.

In the original story, Sophia's parents died in an accident. I don't know exactly when that happened. It could be today, or it might be a long way off. After all the deviations that have occurred up until this moment, I can only hope—given the circumstances—that Sophia's parents remain alive to see their daughter grow up to become an emperor's empress.

There's nothing I can do other than pray for their safety. In reality, I'm torn between directly intervening to prevent Sophia's parents' deaths or letting them die to stick to the novel's plot.

Considering this tragedy also changes Sophia's once cheerful personality into a more melancholic one, I wonder if I should interfere and alter her parents' fate. Of course, her kind nature never changes. Maybe during this time, she might be annoying and more often mischievous towards me, instead of the other way around. However, I can sense that's her way of showing her concern.

Wait, could it be that Martha's real intention in being mischievous towards Sophia was to seek attention?

Damn, I didn't realize it. It's because I didn't pay much attention to the flashback scenes. Besides, the person who was always mean to Sophia was her aunt. As bad as Martha's actions were, she always stopped teasing just before Sophia started crying. At least, that's what I remember.

Sometimes, I wish I could bring the novel into this world as a guide. 'Is what I'm doing right?', 'Am I going too far?' These questions echo in my mind every time I do something.

Like when I was filling out the exercise book yesterday. For me, originally a high school student, it's quite easy to get a perfect score on elementary school subjects. Whether it's Sophia, Mika, or other students, they were astonished to see me quickly and correctly answering all the math questions. Even the teacher suspected I had the answer key hidden somewhere and accused me of cheating.

Then, suddenly, he gave me multiplication and division problems involving fractions on the chalkboard. Of course, I answered those questions correctly, as quickly as possible, and with the most beautiful handwriting. Honestly, at that moment, I felt offended, as if I were a dumb child who couldn't possibly answer elementary school math questions correctly.

Oh, right. I, Sophia, and Mika are classmates. I didn't expect that Sophia would be in the same school as me. But if I think about it, the likelihood of Sophia being a bullying target is quite high. Martha could easily manipulate my classmates to dislike Sophia.

Because the stratification is real.

Being the child of a viscount, I am more respected than Sophia, who is just the daughter of a village landlord. If I wanted to bully Sophia, it would be easier for me to manipulate our classmates into joining in the bullying, compared to Sophia who would have to seek protection.

However, our school environment seems to be different. Not because there are rules like "All students are equal and deserve the same treatment!" but because there are no seeds of hostility whatsoever. Nobles lower their egos, commoners are modest and don't demand more.

"Yep, beautiful."

After braiding my hair, I grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs to the front porch. The person we were talking about was already waiting there with my father. They seemed to be discussing something intriguing.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"My mom and dad are being escorted home by a group of knights."

"What's the matter?"

"Just a precaution." My father took off his shoes and walked inside with his shoulder bag swaying. He whispered to me, "Duke Elrich suspects that your mother's death was premeditated murder. He doesn't want any more casualties."

So it turned out that my mother had actually been murdered.

"Isn't that just an assumption?"

For the past four days, I've also been investigating my mother's—the Evil Aunt's—death though only through casual conversations. My father assured me that my mother's death was just a regular robbery. He also seemed unwilling to believe that she was intentionally murdered for some specific reason.

The news of the tragedy spread quickly. It became the talk of the town, even among the riverside mothers. It would be expected for the news to reach Duke Elrich, strange if it didn't. However, who would have thought that the news would reach the Duke along with rumors of murder.

"I'll explain later," my father whispered. Then he spoke louder, "You know, don't you, I received a fantastic news via telegram from abroad.. They say an old painting by Leonardo was stolen—stolen from a museum! Hahaha, it seems the police in Frank are all incompetent!"

I walked over to the shoe rack. Putting on socks, slipping into shoes, and starting to tie the laces. At the same time, Sophia asked,

"Why was the painting stolen?"

"Famous people's paintings are worth a lot if they're sold, Sophia," I answered. "When was that news, Dad?"

As far as I know, international news in my father's newspaper always had a delay of several days from the actual event.

"Monday." My father pulled out a document from his bag. "The police waited for two days for the thief to make a ransom demand, even though there has been no word from the thief until now."

Done tying my shoelaces, I looked inside the house, at the wall clock that showed half past eight. There was still plenty of time left. Even walking, we could still reach school ten minutes before the bell.

"Let's go," I urged.

"...Sure," Sophia replied.

Sophia's speaking voice was almost inaudible. I, who was walking in front, turned around. Her forehead was creased, her eyes narrowed, lips moving silently. It seemed she was worried about something.

"What's up?"

"I was just thinking, how good is the stolen painting, anyway?"

Oh, painting.

"Listen, Sophia. What's considered good in the eyes of art enthusiasts and regular people can be different. For example, I don't understand what's good about abstract paintings, so don't think about it."

"Well, if that's the case, you're the one who's stupid."

"Hey! What a rude mouth! You probably don't understand either!"

"Even if I'm clueless, I still have an artistic taste."

"Artistic taste? What kind of artistic taste do you have? Art that doesn't stink?"

"That's urine, you slob!" Sophia pointed with arrogance. "Alright, since we have art class today, let's have a competition! We'll see who gets a higher grade in drawing, and the winner will be the one who understands art the most!"

"Who's scared?"