Side Story: The Tale of Sharisha 3 — Encounters, Partings, and What Comes After

Starting today, May 25th, the second volume of "The True Daughter Has Returned, So I Have Decided to Leave as an Adopted Daughter — First Love and Debutante" is being released in advance by Comic Seema. We kindly ask for your continued support.

I had lived in the Frontier County of Mael only a handful of times in my life when I came to the Imperial Capital.

Though I knew I would attend the Imperial Academy once I grew older, the idea felt like a distant dream as I moved into the townhouse in the Capital.

There, while Mother reminded me of my duties as a noble lady-in-waiting, I was told I must also prepare for my debut and cultivate connections. I was inwardly filled with unease.

Dancing, though unfamiliar, felt akin to swordplay, so I pushed myself through it. Yet I could not grow accustomed to the idea of a partner. Though Lord Thomas, my betrothed, came repeatedly to practice at the manor, I cannot bear to recall how many times I stepped upon his feet.

And as for manners—now, at last, the consequences of my neglect came to light. I wept into my pillow each night, overwhelmed by my own inadequacy.

Not long after settling into court life, I received my first invitation to a tea gathering. Accompanying Mother, I went to the residence of Lady Lyshuela, the betrothed of my elder brother. Next autumn, Lady Lyshuela will wed my elder brother. She is a noble lady of high rank from the Marquis family, seven years my senior. It was the first time since the engagement ceremony that I would meet her, and my heart trembled with anticipation.

“Lady Marl, Lady Sharisha, welcome to the capital. Welcome to my home. I am honored to receive you. Please, call me Lyshi. I have invited friends of mine as well, to celebrate your arrival.”

“Yes, thank you so much. We have looked forward to meeting Lady Lyshi.”

I watched from behind Mother’s shadow as the two of them exchanged greetings with quiet ease, too tense to utter a single word.

I had rehearsed what I would say upon meeting her, yet my mind had gone utterly blank from nerves.

“Honestly, this child… she’s so shy, having had few chances to mingle at home. Miss Lyshi, would it be alright if I entrusted her to you…?”

“Of course it would, Lady of the Borderlands.”

“She’ll be a daughter next year, after all. You may call me Mother, if you wish.”

“Yes… then, Mother.”

Humiliatingly, the conversation flowed on without me, as if I were not even present. No, not that I was excluded—rather, I simply had not been drawn into the circle.

From there, Mother departed for a social tea gathering with Miss Lyshi’s mother and her friends, while Miss Lyshi and I were left to our own gathering, a tea circle among girls alone.

The room we were led to was adorned with splendid furnishings, and already other guests had taken their seats. Before me stood about fifteen young ladies, ranging in age from roughly ten to the cusp of adulthood.

All eyes turned toward me, and my legs trembled.

Had this been a simulated battle against multiple opponents, I might not have felt such dread.

"Everyone, I do apologize for the wait. I now present to you the one who will soon become my most cherished family. Miss Sharisha of the Frontier County. She has only recently arrived in the capital to prepare for her enrollment at the academy next year, and I ask that you all lend her your support."

With that, Miss Lyshi gently pressed me forward.

I offered my introduction, my voice steady despite the knot in my chest.

"Um... I amシャルーシャ, daughter of Marquis of Malt, introduced to you by Lady Lyshi. Please be kind to me."

They all smiled and replied, "Likewise."

Then each of them introduced their name and family lineage.

The highest in rank was Patricia of the Marchioness of Mitzberg, a year my senior; next came Isabella of the Marquis of Aienbern, a great estate; then Spica of the Earl of Emmental, also of a great domain; and finally Olivia, granddaughter of the Chancellor—each a noble lady of formidable lineage. I felt myself shrink in their presence.

Yet they spoke to me gently, and still I could not find my voice to answer properly.

"What kind of tea is favored in the Frontier County of Malt?"

"Um... in Malt, we dry Mante grass and brew it into Mante Tea."

"Ah, so you dry grass to make tea, do you?"

I felt shame at not knowing the variety of tea leaves, wondering if Mante Tea-like herb tea did not exist in the imperial capital. It was as though someone had said, “So you don’t know tea in the countryside? Do countryfolk just boil grass and drink it?” The weight of the moment pressed down upon me, and I could not help but lower my gaze.

“Your dress, Lady Shalisha, bears a design unfamiliar in the capital. Is this the fashion of the frontier?”

The noblewoman’s voice broke the silence, shifting the mood.

“Eh… no, this was embroidered by my grandmother. It is a pattern passed down through my mother’s family line.”

“How lovely, a design preserved through generations. So your grandmother hails from the Tribe Beyond the Barrier, then?”

I nodded, yet recalled that few hailed from minor tribes in the Imperial Capital. Perhaps my bloodline had been scorned, dismissed as tainted. I should have taken pride in that lineage… yet I did not.

“Lady Sharisha, what are your talents? I dabble in embroidery and music. If you are interested, I would be honored to have you join me at my salon?”

Another young lady addressed me, seeing my hesitation.

“Ah… thank you for the invitation. I should be delighted to join in embroidery. At home, I have studied long-distance archery and self-defense. And I dabble in military strategy… do any of you practice martial arts?”

Very well, then I shall send you an invitation next time. I myself dabble a little in horseback riding, and it delights me that Lady Sharisha does as well. Though not to the extent of martial arts, I have learned a few things in self-defense.

Indeed, our family is of high nobility, and thus we are taught to escape from ropes and to serve as shields for companions—knowledge of vital points, essential for survival.

Still, Lady Sharisha can play the war chessboard. That is a pastime traditionally reserved for men, I find it difficult to comprehend. Even watching my father and Elder Brother play, I can barely grasp the meaning of the moves.

While the others laughed together, I offered a vague smile. It felt too shameful to admit that I had spent every day in training. Their hands, gripping teacups, bore no scars, not even the faintest trace of sunburn—so much so that, from what I heard, they had likely never even held a sword. It was as though I were being rebuked for openly engaging in a man’s pastime.

“You’re so tall, Lady Sharisha. I’m petite, and I can’t seem to match up with my betrothed. I’m envious.”

“My parents were both tall…”

“Indeed. Your Elder Brother was tall as well. Lord Edouard, your betrothed, was among the most popular in the academy’s officer corps.”

At that moment, I was thinking far too poorly of myself.

Overwhelmed by the refined atmosphere surrounding them, I felt acutely the shame of being a country bumpkin.

The more I realized I knew nothing of the capital, nothing of nobility, the more I shrunk inward—never even attempting to learn.

The shame of failing to meet the standards of a noble lady only deepened my reluctance, my thoughts turning inward.

“Now then, please, let us all calm ourselves? Lady Sharisha appears unsettled. There is still time; let us listen to her words with patience?”

The noblewoman seated diagonally across from me offered a gentle lifeline, her golden-brown hair catching the light.

I felt both grateful and guilty, unable to recall her name, my mouth opening and closing without sound—until she smiled, her hazel eyes narrowing softly.

"I am Spica of the Count of Emmental. I shall be entering the academy next year as well. Please take care of me."

"Indeed, that is so. Thank you for your kindness..."

As I stammered out my reply, my face burning with embarrassment, Spica smiled gently.

This was our first conversation.

Upon reflection, I realized how kindly everyone had treated me, a girl from the Frontier County, yet at that moment I had no awareness of their kindness.

I had taken leave from the gathering—a rare opportunity arranged by my elder sister-in-law as a welcoming gesture for a newcomer from the Frontier County—yet I departed with only a faint bitterness in my heart.

Since that tea gathering, my insecurities about my lack of noble upbringing only deepened, amplifying my naturally reserved nature.

Even her height—slightly above average for a girl of her age—had once been a source of pride, something she had welcomed for the ease it gave her in handling sword and spear. Now, however, she found herself growing self-conscious, her back bowing slightly as she walked.

For the noble ladies within the barrier were all like porcelain dolls—exquisitely delicate, effortlessly graceful in garments that must have been impossible to move in. There were few women like her—tall, yet lacking in form, lacking in distinction. She could not help but wonder if she appeared plain, unremarkable.

None of the young noblewomen she had shared tea with had shown any interest in sword or spear. Realizing her own understanding of what was normal was not, in fact, universal, she felt adrift, uncertain. She poured herself into the rigid education expected of a noblewoman, late and unready.

And though she had never been comfortable speaking with boldness, the tea gatherings that followed now felt like places where she did not belong. She stammered and hesitated, her movements stiff with unease.

Those who knew I was being considered for debut from the royal court could not help but laugh softly, and I shrunk further into myself.

It was one of my fellow debutantes who rescued me.

That time—when I learned confidence from Ana Highness, grace from Princess Celia, manners from Pearl, and healing from Yuna, striving alongside them in mutual challenge—was truly my treasure, an irreplaceable moment.

My distance from my fiancé, Lord Colloid, also grew closer. He allowed me to ride horseback, to hold weapons, even to play the war board game with me at times.

“You may be yourself, and do as you wish. I wish to support you in that.”

Perhaps it was because I was accepted as I was, without condition, that I began to reclaim myself, little by little.

Among the peers of her debut, I became close enough with Pearl to call her a true friend. From her, I learned much, and I both supported and was supported by her. If I have come to understand the essence of an imperial noblewoman, it is because she taught me—she was, in every way, a perfect lady of the court.

It was a joy to me that she, rare among imperial noblewomen, took pleasure in military chess. When she smiled and said, “You may have forgotten, but our family also has a military force? Though we primarily used naval terrain boards for our games,” I felt a deep sense of relief. I saw in that the pride of a family sworn to protect the nation.

And so… it was unbearable to witness her, so deeply devoted to her family, cast aside and wounded by them, reduced to tears. How many nights I raged, wondering why she must suffer so.

And before I could do anything, she had already decided her own fate.

That night, after hearing the news, we spoke and wept together until dawn.

Her final social gathering was spent guarding her, remaining at her side.

How noble, how exalted her heart was... She was radiant, beautiful, and yet pitiful at the same time.

The bond formed by our shared tears became an unbreakable wedge in my memory.

At the same time, she reminded me of the dreams of my childhood.

She taught me how to confront myself deeply.

The day after her departure, a letter arrived from her family, asking if I knew her whereabouts. I hesitated, yet again, and repeated only the truth—that she was no longer with us. At the same time, I spoke with her betrothed, Thomas.

"Thomas, I know this is terribly impertinent. But I beg you—please release me from our betrothal."

He looked stunned, then asked for reason.

“Why? Was it because I failed to protect your dear friend’s honor? Or was it something lacking in me?”

I shook my head.

“No, Thomas-sama, I know better than anyone how you have strived to uphold Pearl’s dignity. You are a noble beyond measure in my eyes. It is only now that I have come to wish to become a guardian of the nation, like Pearl.”

“Surely you don’t mean to become a Virgin of the Barrier yourself?”

He rose so abruptly the chair nearly toppled. I gently held up my hand to calm him, then spoke.

“No, not at all! I mean to dedicate myself to the military now. I wish to fulfill the dream I held since childhood—to serve the nation as a guardian. A woman such as I, so unlike the norm, would not suit you, Thomas-sama… therefore…”

Before I could finish speaking, Thomas-sama had taken both of my hands in his.

“Why not? I will support you fully! Now is the time to prove your talent—now!”

Pushed forward by the unexpected encouragement of my betrothed, I resolved to pursue a military role.

It was not a path of easy passage.

To my surprise, despite the audacity of the request, I received word of support from my family home.

With the new term approaching, I began first by reacclimating my body, long unused to movement.

After the summer break ended, I enrolled in both the Knightly Division and the Officer Training Division. It was an unprecedented choice, even drawing concern from the faculty themselves, who questioned whether it was truly advisable for a final-year student. It took me two weeks to regain my physical instincts, though the foundational knowledge was identical in both disciplines. By the first term’s end, I had secured the top academic standing among my peers in the final year.

Though some challenged me out of envy, especially during group exercises, I silenced them with skill and tactics. It was around then I realized just how strong I had become. Upon reflection, I had been tested relentlessly in the frontier territories, where only the most capable survived. It was inevitable I would not be weak. The practical training at home proved far more realistic than the exercises with fellow students at school, which often felt like childish play. By mid-term, I had volunteered for the direct military reserve, dedicating my holidays to rigorous martial discipline.

Having completed all knightly and officer training courses at the academy within a single year, I was told by various quarters that such a precedent had never existed. Furthermore, due to the brevity of my academic tenure, I began not as an upper officer but as a junior one. Though graduating at the academy’s top rank was itself an anomaly, I accepted it as inevitable—after all, my very existence was an anomaly. Yet I found it especially gratifying when Lord Thomas himself expressed indignation, declaring it not merely an anomaly, but an aberration.

The appointment of the Virgin of the Barrier at Pearl brought a turning point in the military’s very nature.

With the barrier rewritten to enshroud the entire nation, countless bandits were eradicated, and remote frontier regions became safe for travel.

Yet, paradoxically, the borderlands now stood in a more intense state of tension than before.

The southern borderlands, previously saturated with spies, now teetered on the brink of crisis, gripped by suspicion and fear that the very spies eradicated would be followed by invasion.

Yet the frontier regions enclosed within the barrier were enveloped in relief, safe from conquest—this disparity in security only deepened the complexity of the situation.

It was around that time, perhaps. In the military, strategy began to be valued more highly alongside strength.

As for me, though I had initially faced resistance, I was assigned to the all-female guard regiment of the royal household and entrusted with the protection of Her Highness, the Second Princess.

Soon after, I became a regular participant in the military’s periodic tournament of tactical maneuvers.

There, I caught the attention of the Marshal, and swiftly advanced to a position within the General Staff. Yet many disapproved of my ascent without notable achievements, and so I was met with constant contention.

Yet General Thomas, who had taken me as his wife, and the Field Marshal, who had taken notice of me, offered their protection.

“Whether in drill or live combat simulation, you may speak only after you have defeated Lieutenant Sharisha once.”

The Field Marshal spoke with a smirk.

When I was with child, there were those who claimed women were useless, but General Thomas had firmly silenced them.

“Men are said to die from the pain of childbirth. To mock the sacred without understanding it is lamentable. Indeed, the very women you scorn are the foundation of this nation’s barrier. Surely you do not forget that? If you are dissatisfied with your wife, I shall work threefold—her share, the child’s share, and mine. Then you shall have no further complaints.”

So I am told, the other party had no reply.

I lived to the fullest—raising my child, serving as a soldier, and bearing the duties of a household’s mistress.

I labored with all my strength, as if for my dear friend whose dreams could not be fulfilled.

Gradually, the Empire’s ways began to shift. My position within it changed, too.

Closer to military uniform than to dress, my skill at the war chessboard grew so great that none in this realm could match me. At last, I became the first female commander of a knightly company in the Imperial Army’s General Staff. That marked my becoming the nation’s strategist. In common speech, I was called the War Maiden’s Strategist. I was, to my shame, even made the subject of an opera.

My children grew and married. I was blessed with grandchildren.

My eldest son, gifted with talent, I strive to keep from losing at war chess—though I do so with great effort.

I have fulfilled every dream I once held, every desire I had ever nurtured—nothing was left undone.

The one regret that remains is not having walked that moment alongside my closest friend…

Yet, I still have hope.

In our final moments together, I will tell her the story I have woven—my story, the one she once protected for me.

Thank you all for reading.

It feels like a fitting end to the tale, though two more chapters are planned. ^ ^

Next time, we shall see through the eyes of Thomas, the husband of Shasha.

As mentioned in the preface, the second volume of the e-book has been released in advance by Comic Seema.

I have also posted introductions to the characters.

For those reading after a long time or encountering them for the first time, please use them as reference.

This is all thanks to you. Thank you.

I am deeply grateful for any reports of typos or errors.

The temperature swings have been truly brutal lately… Let us all persevere, unyielding to this mysterious illness.