Chapter 2
For a moment, her mind went completely blank.
Poison.
The man she had cherished as her father had poisoned her.
Why?
Why would he do that?
And then there were the words he had spoken.
“I’m… Ayla?”
The only daughter of Roderick and Ophelia.
The Ayla who had disappeared over ten years ago…
That Ayla was…
She was…
“As expected of Roderick’s daughter. You’re just as stupid as he is. Every time I looked at you, I felt disgusted. Those blue eyes that look exactly like your father’s. Though I suppose your silver hair, which resembles my Ophelia’s, was at least pleasant to look at.”
Byron continued speaking, each word more unbelievable than the last.
She had trusted him all her life.
She had lived only for him.
She had even killed someone for his sake.
And now…
He wasn’t her father.
The man she had killed…
Was her real father.
She wanted to grab Roderick and ask if Byron was telling the truth.
But the dead could not answer.
“Ayla, Ayla. Thank you. Thanks to you, my revenge is finally complete. I kidnapped you, raised you as my own daughter, and made you kill your real father with your own hands. That was my revenge against your father all along.”
It was almost impossible to accept.
But if Byron wasn’t telling the truth…
Why was she dying like this?
Cough!
Another mouthful of blood spilled from her lips.
She was furious.
She was filled with resentment.
The poison was making her cough up blood, but even without it, she felt as if her heart would burst from the pain.
“Think of dying on the same day as your father as my final kindness. I don’t know if it’ll comfort you, but don’t worry about your mother. My Ophelia will be very happy by my side.”
She heard Byron sneering.
She struggled to remain standing, but eventually her legs gave out.
Ayla Hyling Weisshafen collapsed beside her father, Roderick.
How miserable.
More painful than dying…
Was realizing she had been deceived her entire life.
She felt wronged.
She was angry.
The man standing there with that mocking smile…
He was a devil.
Only a devil could do something so cruel.
Even after death…
I will never forgive you.
She swore it.
Even if she became a wandering spirit, she would curse him forever.
The price for deceiving and using her…
Would be his life.
As she made that vow and took her final breath—
“Ayla!”
Someone came running toward her, calling her name.
Her vision was blurry, making it difficult to see who it was.
But soon…
She recognized her.
Mother.
The mother she had longed for her entire life without ever knowing.
Ophelia.
The last thing Ayla saw was tears filling Ophelia’s gentle violet eyes.
Then…
She died.
* * *
Ayla Hyling Weisshafen was dead.
She was certain of it.
She had been deceived by the man she had trusted all her life.
She had killed her own father with her own hands.
And once she had outlived her usefulness…
That same man had poisoned her.
She clearly remembered the burning pain in her throat.
The agony that felt as though every blood vessel in her body had been torn apart.
Those memories were vivid.
So why…
Why was she alive?
Why was she breathing?
She didn’t even feel any pain.
The deadly poison had taken her life.
How could she possibly be alive without any aftereffects?
She suddenly sat upright, gasping for air.
It felt like she had just awakened from a terrible nightmare.
But it couldn’t have been a dream.
She desperately wished it had been.
Yet the memories were far too clear.
Roderick’s warm eyes that never blamed the daughter who had attacked him.
Byron’s mocking smile as he watched her die.
And Ophelia’s tearful face in her final moments.
There was no way it had been a dream.
Trying to calm herself, she looked around.
Old stone walls covered in moss.
Simple furniture.
What is this…?
She couldn’t understand what was happening.
Where was she?
Why hadn’t she died?
Why was she alone in this unfamiliar place?
…Was it really unfamiliar?
Something about the room felt strangely familiar.
She searched her memories.
She had seen places like this countless times.
During her childhood…
When she wandered from place to place with the devil named Byron.
Just then—
“You’re awake, Young Lady.”
The old wooden door opened.
A familiar face walked in.
Laura.
Her maid.
Laura had taken care of her ever since they wandered together with Byron.
When Ayla entered the Duke’s household disguised as the Duke’s daughter, Laura had also hidden her identity and found work at the mansion as a maid to continue serving her.
Though…
Thinking back now, she realized Laura hadn’t been there to serve her.
She had been there to watch her.
“Hurry and wash your face. You have morning training before breakfast with Master.”
Laura spoke bluntly as she set a basin of water on the small table beside the bed.
As Ayla watched her…
She noticed something strange.
Laura looked younger than she remembered.
She should have been in her early twenties.
So why did she now look like a girl in her late teens?
And what she had said…
Morning training?
Though she had only lived for eighteen years, she had spent every one of them training.
For Byron’s revenge.
She woke before sunrise every day to build her stamina.
She learned how to use daggers.
She practiced shooting tiny targets with a bow from long distances.
She trained on lifelike human dummies, learning exactly where to cut to kill instantly.
She even studied poisons.
But all of that had ended when she turned sixteen and entered the Duke’s household.
She had thought she was disguising herself as the Duke’s daughter—
Though now she knew it hadn’t been a disguise at all.
After entering the mansion, Laura had never once woken her for morning training.
Of course, because revenge had been her only purpose in life, she secretly kept exercising in her room whenever she had the chance.
But that was all.
“Why are you staring at me like that? Hurry up and wash your face. You still need to get dressed.”
Speaking as if she were the master rather than the servant, Laura coldly left the room.
Left alone, Ayla stared blankly at the closed door.
…Isn’t this…
Like I’ve gone back in time?
It was impossible.
There was no way…
She looked down at her hands.
They were small and chubby like a child’s.
Her arms and legs were short as well.
There wasn’t even a mirror in the room.
So she looked into the water in the washbasin.
Reflected on the surface was the face of a young girl who looked no older than twelve.
Before drinking the poisoned wine Byron had given her…
She had been one day away from her eighteenth birthday.
The night before her birthday had been the day chosen for revenge.
The banquet planned for the following day was one of the most important events in House Weisshafen.
It would celebrate the eighteenth birthday—the coming-of-age ceremony—of their long-lost daughter, Ayla.
She was also going to be officially announced as the family’s heir.
To prepare for such a grand celebration, workers had been hired from outside.
Couriers carrying birthday gifts from all across the Peles Empire came and went without stopping.
No matter how tightly the mansion’s security was increased, there were bound to be openings.
That was the opportunity Byron had been waiting for.
Yet…
The face reflected in the basin looked nowhere near eighteen years old.
For a long time, Ayla simply stared at herself.
She was completely confused.
“…Did I really come back?”
Had time truly reversed?
Had she really returned to her childhood?
She knew it should have been impossible.
Turning back time went against the laws of nature.
Yet no matter how she thought about it…
Everything pointed to that conclusion.
Laura was treating her as if nothing had happened.
Her face looked young again.
Her hands and feet had become small.
None of it was possible unless time itself had been reversed.
She had no idea how it had happened.
But this was a chance given to her by heaven.
A chance to punish the man who had deceived her, used her…
And thrown her away once she was no longer useful.
And…
Mother… Father…
Her real parents.
Roderick and Ophelia.
Though they had only been together for a little over two years…
During that time, they had loved her more warmly than anyone else ever had.
Even the foolish version of herself, who had lived only for Byron’s revenge, had been shaken by their kindness.
At first…
She mocked them for their foolishness.
None of the people in the Duke’s household knew that she had come to kill the Duke.
Yet they welcomed her with all their hearts.
As time passed…
She began to feel guilty.
She even wondered whether Roderick truly deserved to die.
Whenever she started doubting…
Laura, who never left her side, would whisper into her ear again and again like a spell.
“Don’t forget what that evil man did to Master.”
Looking back now…
Wasn’t she the true fool?
She had stood before her own parents without recognizing them.
She had danced in the palm of the devil’s hand.
She had even murdered her own father.
There could never have been a greater fool.
Tears fell from Ayla’s eyes into the basin, sending ripples across the water.
“Why… didn’t I realize it?”
She looked at her reflection and bitterly regretted everything.
When Byron had been deceiving her, she had never questioned anything.
But now…
It was obvious.
She couldn’t possibly be anyone other than Roderick and Ophelia’s daughter.
She looked so much like them.
Her sharp eyes and straight nose were exactly like Roderick’s.
Even her deep blue eyes, which seemed cold at first glance but actually held warmth, were just like his.
Meanwhile, the shape of her face, her small lips, and her silver hair that shimmered as though made from melted silver…
Were unmistakably Ophelia’s.
Father…
The image of Roderick looking at her with nothing but love, even as he lay dying, came back to her.
Fresh tears filled her eyes.
I killed someone like him…
She looked down at her small hands.
Hands that had not yet been stained with Roderick’s blood.
But she had no intention of keeping them clean forever.
The blood these hands will stain themselves with from now on…
…will belong to that devil.
