In the original story, the jerk captain had a fiancée—stolen away by the protagonist, who then helped take him down.

In this reality? Torina had a fiancé… who ended up with Mylora and teamed up against her.

Yet in Torina’s current-life memories, she’d never formally accepted any engagement. Countless suitors had come calling, but playful Torina stubbornly rejected them all. She hadn’t given it a second thought—especially after Mylora became her companion. That scenario was simply impossible.

But now…

(So… the unwritten plot was like this? Through family arrangement, Torina gained a fiancé at the grand ceremony—a twist that only happened after the original protagonist left the team…)

Totally unexpected!

Torina fidgeted anxiously. Patti watched her with concern, while Mylora and Annawiel wore expressions as if the sky were collapsing.

(“She’s getting married?”) (“Just engaged!”) (“Still a huge deal!”) (“Right?! Did she ever mention it?”) (“No! You?”) (“Me neither!”) They whispered urgently.

“That damn Molly… She’s behind this. I’m confronting her—now!”

Torina ordered the coachman to reroute straight to the city’s most lavish mansion. This was serious. She needed answers from her sister—immediately.

In the original, the captain had an older brother, an older sister, and a younger brother (by age). In this gender-swapped world: eldest brother became eldest sister, older sister became older brother, younger brother became younger sister. Molly Diweier corresponded to the original’s eldest brother, Monlei Diweier. Her child—once the captain’s niece—was now a nephew.

“Molly’s my older sister. Fourteen years older. Married young, had kids, divorced. As the eldest of the current head’s four children, she presides over the annual ceremony.”

En route to Molly’s estate, Torina briefed the trio.

“She’s never liked me. Our relationship’s… strained. Honestly, I don’t like her either. Too rigid. Always sure she’s right—and usually is. Makes her insufferable.”

“But she has no right to meddle in your marriage!” Mylora protested. “She’s your sister, not your parent. Who gave her authority over your spouse?”

“She runs the family’s major businesses, networks with foreign officials—a powerhouse. Barring surprises, she’ll be next head of House Dewell. Mom and Dad are already handing core duties to her. Her word? Extremely heavy right now.”

“So what? You’re her sister!” Annawiel scoffed. “Have a private blowout. Sister fights are normal! And House Dewell values strength—just beat her down.”

“The problem is… even in admin roles, her combat strength isn’t weak.”

Among the four siblings, combat ranking ran roughly: second ≈ fourth >> first > third. Torina, the third child, sat firmly at the bottom.

“Molly may not match my military-genius brother or my sister in the Heroic Vanguard… but she’s still way beyond me. Ah—we’re here!”

Torina leaped from the carriage and burst into the mansion. The others hurried after.

“BIG SIS!!!”

An indignant Torina shoved the door open—

—and was instantly drowned in roaring voices.

The grand hall glittered: crystal clinking, lavish spreads, nobles mingling.

A banquet? At this hour? Before lunch?

Torina froze. A stark spotlight pinned her. Every guest swiveled—then swarmed her.

“Miss Torina?” “Greetings!” “Pleasure!” “Long admired you!” “More beautiful than portraits!” “My angel!” “My goddess!” “I’m OO of XX Family!” “XX of OO Royal House!” “Captain of XX Adventurers!” “Commander of OO Battalion!” “From XO Academy!” “I’ll win the ceremony!” “I’ll win your heart!” “Please notice me!” “Your favor honors my clan!”…

Voices hammered Torina’s skull. Their eyes gleamed—like wolves eyeing a prize lamb. Winning her meant becoming son-in-law to House Dewell’s main line. The temptation was immense.

“What the—” “So loud…” “Tsk tsk.”

Mylora, Annawiel, and Patti pushed in but were blocked by the human wall.

“Please grant Miss Torina space… Second Young Miss. We’ve awaited you.”

An elderly butler emerged from shadow, parting the crowd with a bow. Mylora flinched. Annawiel’s hand flew to the rifle on her back. Combat instincts screamed: *This old man is dangerous.*

“…Long time no see, Grandpa Sebastian. Your age spots multiplied,” Torina quipped, voice tight.

“Heh. Still sharp-tongued, Second Young Miss. If the Master heard—”

“Stop. Disperse this crowd. Where’s my sister?”

“As for her…”

“You remain impolite, Torina.”

The voice dropped from above, rippling through the stifling air.

Silence crashed down.

All eyes lifted. A stunning, crimson-eyed woman descended the ornate staircase—raven hair like Torina’s, faintly similar features, but an aura leagues apart.

“…My *dear* older sister? Greeting the world’s most adorable little sister like that? Such *heartwarming* family love.”

Torina’s brows furrowed slightly.

“If you’re ‘adorable,’ then a rotting corpse is the pinnacle of beauty,” Molly retorted coolly. Each heel-click—*click*—stabbed the eardrum like a chisel.

“Straight talk, sis: those city posters yours? Your idea to marry me off?”

“Mine. Problem?”

Molly accepted wine from the butler, sipped calmly. Unshakable. As if *she* interrogated *Torina*. Torina glared back, refusing to yield.

“Using me as bait? Since when does House Dewell *sell* daughters?”

“‘Introducing suitors’ equals ‘selling’? Don’t play childish word games.”

“…Then give me a reason.”

“Three. One: years of zero contribution—governance or combat. Two: your frivolous nature needs marriage to force maturity. Three: your only asset is this face. Beyond political alliance? Little value. Rebuttals?”

“Uh…”