Chapter 4
In her previous life, she had never cared about what Byron was doing.
As long as she carried out the tasks he gave her and received a little praise from him, she had been the happiest child in the world.
Even if she suddenly became interested in his plans this time, she wouldn’t uncover them so easily.
Byron would never share his true intentions with someone he considered nothing more than a hunting dog.
She would have to discover the truth herself by using the very skills he had taught her for the sake of his revenge.
He had trained her to become the blade that would kill Roderick.
He had probably never imagined that those same skills would one day be turned against him.
Should I thank him for that?
A bitter smile appeared on her lips.
“Let’s start by warming up.”
Cloud tilted his chin toward the training ground.
He was telling her to run.
It was part of their daily routine, so there was no need for further explanation.
Even though it had been a long time since she had trained with him, she understood immediately what he meant.
Keeping her mouth shut, Ayla began running around the dusty courtyard inside the fortress.
If she pretended to run diligently for a few laps, Cloud would most likely leave her alone to take care of his own business.
That was the trust she had earned through years of disciplined training.
He believed that even without supervision, Ayla would never stop pushing herself.
Just for the sake of earning her father’s approval.
She remembered running across this very training ground, gritting her teeth because she longed for Byron’s love.
The memory disgusted her.
But that was all in the past.
She never had to live like that again.
There was nothing wrong with building up her strength.
Still, there was something more important she needed to do first.
…Since I’ve returned to my childhood, I need to see what condition my body is in.
By the time she entered House Weisshafen in her previous life, she had already surpassed her teacher, Cloud.
Following someone’s trail…
Concealing herself…
Listening in unnoticed…
Killing people before they even realized they were dying…
There was probably no assassin in the Empire who could match her.
She couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.
What embarrassing skills.
Nothing anyone could proudly boast about.
Even so…
Those shameful abilities were exactly what she needed.
If she wanted to uncover Byron’s plans, she would have to rely on them.
Of course, none of those techniques would work without the physical strength to support them.
That was why she first needed to know what her body was capable of.
Before testing herself, Ayla carefully looked around.
She couldn’t allow anyone to witness her strange behavior.
The day had only just begun.
The fortress was still quiet.
There were undoubtedly guards watching the entrance, but inside the training yard, surrounded by high walls, no one seemed to be observing her.
When she had been a little older, someone had always been assigned to watch her.
Apparently, because she was still young, the surveillance wasn’t as strict yet.
Good.
After making sure no one was nearby, she climbed a tree beside the training ground.
She moved silently, every motion smooth and efficient.
Standing on a sturdy branch, Ayla smiled with satisfaction.
Her smaller body actually felt lighter and more agile.
She hadn’t held a dagger yet, but she doubted she’d have any trouble using one.
Balancing herself on the branch, she swung her empty hand several times as though holding a sword.
Her arm moved naturally.
Her balance was flawless.
By then, the dim morning sky had become completely bright.
She spotted Laura stepping outside.
It seemed morning training was over.
She couldn’t let anyone see what she was doing.
Ayla quickly jumped down from the tree.
Even though she landed from a considerable height, she barely made a sound.
Straightening her clothes, she resumed pretending to run around the training ground.
“Young Lady, that’s enough training. You need to bathe before eating with Master.”
After every training session, Laura would help her bathe.
It was all so she could look presentable before meeting Byron.
Back then, Ayla had gladly accepted it because she wanted to look beautiful for her father.
Now…
It only made her sick.
Laura—and everyone else—had always been obsessed with her hair.
The silver hair she had inherited from Ophelia.
“Young Lady, your hair is so beautiful. Master will be very proud of it.”
Even now, Laura whispered sweet words while carefully brushing her hair.
Although they wandered between mountain hideouts and abandoned fortresses…
They never once ran out of the finest hair oil for her.
Back then…
She had believed it was proof that her father loved her.
After all, he took such great care of her.
Now she understood the truth.
It had never been about her.
It was merely Byron’s twisted obsession with Ophelia.
“Aren’t you happy?”
Laura asked, sounding puzzled.
Whenever someone complimented her hair before, Ayla would blush shyly and smile.
“…I am.”
Suppressing the urge to spit in Laura’s face, Ayla forced herself to smile bashfully.
Satisfied at last, Laura returned to carefully grooming her hair.
Breakfast with Byron was held so late that it was almost lunchtime.
He never got out of bed until the sun was already high in the sky.
Ayla had already finished her dawn training and bathed before sitting at the dining table.
A moment later, Byron entered the dining room, looking as though he had only just woken up.
In the past…
She had admired even his appearance.
His fiery red hair.
His brilliant golden eyes.
His handsome, flawless features.
There wasn’t a single thing about him that resembled her.
Yet she had firmly believed he was her real father.
He carried an air of nobility that seemed almost untouchable.
She had once been proud that such a man was her father.
Now…
She had to fight with every ounce of self-control to keep herself from twisting her face in disgust.
She wanted to leap at him.
Tear him apart.
Demand to know why he had done such terrible things to her.
But she had to endure it.
If she wanted to uncover Byron’s plans…
If she wanted to return safely to Roderick and Ophelia…
Then Byron had to continue believing she still trusted him without question.
So… endure it.
Forcing her stiff facial muscles to obey, Ayla put on the brightest smile she could manage.
Then she greeted him cheerfully.
“Good morning, Father. Did you sleep well?”
She had to become the happy little girl who adored her beloved father.
“Yes, my daughter. Come here.”
Sitting arrogantly in a chair grand enough to be mistaken for a throne, Byron beckoned her closer.
It was always the same.
No matter what mood he was in, he always began his day by stroking Ayla’s hair.
And whenever he called…
She would happily run over and kneel before him.
During those moments, she had always believed she was loved more than anyone else.
So…
She had to do the same now.
She knew she couldn’t hesitate.
But knowing wasn’t enough.
Her body refused to move.
Back when she still believed Roderick was her enemy, she had lied effortlessly in front of Roderick and Ophelia.
She had thought she could do the same before Byron.
No…
This is different.
When she acted awkwardly around Roderick and Ophelia, they simply thought their long-lost daughter was shy.
They welcomed everything she did with warmth.
But Byron wasn’t like them.
If she showed even the slightest hint of suspicion…
He would become wary of her.
That made this situation far more dangerous.
She had to go.
No matter how disgusting it felt…
She had to endure his touch.
“My daughter.”
“Why aren’t you coming?”
Even that brief hesitation caught Byron’s attention.
His expression darkened with displeasure.
She had never hesitated before.
Realizing she couldn’t afford another mistake, Ayla hurried over and knelt before him.
She rested her arms against his leg and lowered her head toward him.
As though asking him to pet her.
“That’s right.”
“Good girl, my daughter.”
Though he had noticed her hesitation, her familiar behavior seemed to satisfy him.
Using his only remaining hand, Byron gently stroked her silver hair.
Softly.
Again and again.
Every time his fingers brushed through her hair, goosebumps spread across her body.
It was unbearable.
How foolish she had been.
How could she ever have mistaken this for a father’s love?
It looked less like a father doting on his daughter…
And more like a master petting his favorite dog.
“Laura told me something.”
Byron smiled as he spoke.
His hand remained gentle against her hair.
But there was a sharp edge hidden in his voice.
“She said you overslept today.”
“So you barely trained this morning.”
“…I’m sorry, Father.”
So Laura had already run to tell him.
She had been serving Ayla the entire time, except while Ayla was outside training.
When had she found the chance to report it?
“I called you, yet you didn’t come immediately.”
“Why?”
“Is something wrong?”
Byron had stopped stroking her hair altogether.
He looked down at her with cold eyes.
It was obvious.
He was angry.
