Reborn as a Villainous Noble

Camilla found herself bewildered.

She had been fully prepared to die at Arc's hands.

The previous Count Garm had seized her family's livestock and land. Because of that, her household fell into poverty, and her parents and brother all perished.

She'd launched her revenge attack on Arc, expecting—and even accepting—that he might kill her. It wasn't as though she hadn't done anything to deserve it, after all. In her eyes, the Count was the worst. 

A commoner pointing a blade at a count? Getting killed for that is only to be expected.

But she hadn't been killed.

The moment she was taken to the Count's estate, she was stripped, washed from head to toe, and made to wear a servant's uniform. 

Then Arc said something utterly incomprehensible:

"Starting today, you'll be my personal servant. Got it?"

Camilla was at a loss.

But she didn't let her guard down. She assumed he had some scheme in mind—a punishment waiting for her. 

She figured he was just biding his time, lulling her into a false sense of security, only to torment her later.

And yet, she couldn't see what Arc would gain from such roundabout cruelty. If he intended to punish her, he could've done so right at the start.

Still suspicious and confused, Camilla continued to serve at Arc's side.

◇　◇　◇

There was nothing unpleasant about it, nothing restrictive. Compared to her days surviving in the slums, her life had drastically improved.

Everything seemed like a blessing.

But Camilla loathed it.

"This is all crap."

She was overwhelmed by a sense of disgust for the life she was leading now. The more comfortable it became, the more humiliated she felt. The more kindness she received, the more her hatred festered.

Eventually, she could no longer contain her emotions. She snuck into Arc's room without permission.

Incidentally, the mere fact that she managed to infiltrate the Count's private chambers so easily suggested she had a talent for espionage or assassination. But that's another story.

Standing before Arc's bed, she looked down at him.

"What do you want, Camilla?" Arc asked while lying in bed.

"I came to kill you."

"Ha. How considerate, giving me a heads-up before you do it."

"Shut up!"

Camilla pressed a knife to Arc's throat.

"Why did you spare me?! Why let me live like this?!"

"Because this is your punishment."

"...!"

It certainly felt like a punishment to Camilla, who couldn't help feeling humiliation, hatred, and guilt.

"I never really asked for much," she said, voice strained. "All I wanted was to enjoy a decent piece of meat once in a while—together with my family—so I could laugh and be happy."

"I've given you that, haven't I? It's not like you're being starved to the point of missing a single meal."

"It's too late! Now… everything is too late!"

Each moment she found herself somewhat fulfilled in this life, the more frustration boiled inside her. Why now? Why couldn't he have saved her sooner?

"I wanted to eat that good food with the family I loved..."

It was a small wish. Just sharing a decent meal with her family and smiling together at tomorrow. 

"It's all your fault." 

Being robbed, only to be given back a fraction later—knowing she'd never be truly whole—felt like the height of cruelty.

"Stop blaming others for your own weakness," Arc said quietly but firmly. "You think I understand everything you've been through?"

"What do you know?! You have no idea!"

"You're right—I don't. I don't care about your past. But blaming me all this time—did it change anything about your future? Has your hatred for me fixed anything?"

"...!"

"The only thing that interests me is your future."

"My future… means nothing..."

"I won't accept that," Arc replied, grabbing Camilla's wrist and slowly sitting up in bed. "You belong to me now. I'll forge your future for you."

She sensed his words meant: *Don't live in the past—look ahead.* 

"Like I'd let you decide my future!" 

Terrified of meeting Arc's gaze, Camilla fled. She feared he could see right through her—see her fear of leaving the past behind, and stepping alone into a future without it.

Some time later, Camilla approached Lampard with questions.

"Why does Arc bother to keep me on? Why did he spare my life? And why does he want me to look ahead?"

Lampard smiled gently.

"Lord Arc is taking responsibility."

"Responsibility?"

"He bears all the sins carried over from the previous Count and the one before him. Lord Arc has accepted that burden himself."

Of course, Arc wasn't nearly so noble. He was driven mostly by selfish desires. Lampard's vision of Arc must have been blinded by age.

"Arc has a sharp tongue at times, but he's actually quite a soft-hearted person. He wishes to atone for the past crimes of the previous family heads, and he hopes to guide his treasured people toward a bright future. You, too, are one of those treasured people."

Camilla felt ashamed. Arc was about her age, yet he bore a far greater weight on his shoulders than she did. It wasn't Arc who took her family away. And yet she had tried to kill him.

"I was a fool. I never tried to learn anything. I had no idea, yet I attacked Lord Arc out of my own selfish rage."

"There's no point in regretting the past. Just please—don't hold any more grudges against Lord Arc. He's done nothing wrong. If you can manage, lend him your strength."

"My strength?"

"Lord Arc is bound to face a great enemy in the near future. He'll need many allies to stand by him. We'd be ever so grateful if you could help."

"Yes, of course... If I can be of use, I will."

Thus, Camilla swore allegiance to Arc. Yet, unbeknownst to her, Arc was internally cackling: *"Mwahaha! Time to work her to the bone again today!"*