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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Pitiful Young Lady (1)
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February, Ratan Year 210.
The nobles of the Western Realm, especially the women, were abuzz with the news that Cyrus Karha, the Northern Duke of the Northern Realm, would soon be visiting the Western Realm.
Many rumors followed Cyrus, who had ascended to the ducal seat at the youngest age among all dukes in history.
Among them, the one that most thrilled the women was the rumor that he was as beautiful as the moon floating serenely in the night sky.
After news of Cyrus's visit spread, the women of the Western Realm chattered about him whenever they gathered.
"They say his face is as fair as a pearl."
"Even Princess Charlotte of the Imperial Capital reportedly yields to the Northern Duke."
"His silver hair is said to shimmer like the moon even in the dark."
"And his eyes? They say they're like rubies. Even the portraits secretly circulating in the market can't fully capture the Northern Duke's beauty."
"I want to see the Northern Duke use ice magic. Is it true that he can create magnificent ice sculptures out of thin air?"
"Magic, you say... If the Northern Duke were to create an ice flower just for me, I'd have no regrets."
Even the women chattering about such things knew that what they hoped for was unlikely to happen.
The Northern Duke, Cyrus, was renowned for his beauty, as if descended from the heavens, yet his inner nature was said to be as cruel and chilling as a ruler of hell.
"They say he killed a dancer on the spot who snuck into the garden without permission at night."
"He often ignores Princess Charlotte even when she greets him."
"Do you know there's a rumor he prefers men? He always has that alchemist named Isaac with him."
"Even His Imperial Majesty wishes to make the Northern Duke his son-in-law, so people like us probably have no chance."
Cyrus, who had set the Western Realm's high society abuzz, had already discreetly entered the estate of Duke Bronte, a Western Realm noble.
Cyrus was perched on a large tree within the ducal estate's grounds, and beside him was Isaac, the subject of the rumors.
The weather was still chilly, so the tree branches were bare and skeletal, but no one wandering the ducal estate noticed them.
Cyrus sat comfortably on a thick branch, sending a cold gaze towards a window within the estate.
His eyes, fixed on the person inside that room, were utterly frigid and sharp, as if his gaze alone could cut someone down.
Isaac, whose eyes held a lively interest unlike Cyrus's, opened his mouth.
"Is that the child born to the Eastern Duke and Rachel? Her appearance is a mess, but she's pretty. If you look closely, she even resembles the Eastern Duke."
"..."
"Anyway, that child is truly pitiful. If she had remained in the Eastern Realm, she would have been a princess, but to come to the Western Realm and be treated like this... Duchess Bronte is truly cruel. Is this how one treats their own daughter?"
As Isaac said, the young girl beyond the window had a pitiful appearance.
Her hair was disheveled from not being properly washed, and her body was thin from hunger. The maid's dress she wore was too small, leaving her arms and legs awkwardly exposed.
A room with only a desk and no bed was hers, and she had been confined there for days, unable to leave.
Her daily routine consisted of occasionally gazing out the locked window or eating the meals that came once every other day.
It was a situation that would naturally evoke sympathy from anyone, but in Cyrus's eyes, as he watched her, only coldness lingered.
Isaac turned to Cyrus, his liege and old friend.
"Even if that child is the daughter of your parents' enemy, or perhaps even an enemy herself, she's innocent. What could she possibly know? It looks like she can't even get a proper meal."
"Perhaps."
For the first time, an expression flickered across Cyrus's face.
His red lips formed a chilling curve.
"She doesn't seem so ignorant."
Cyrus's impression of her was different from Isaac's.
On the surface, her situation seemed deserving of pity, but a closer look revealed otherwise.
Her eyes, indifferent for a sixteen-year-old girl; her expression, unwavering even at the maid's rude demeanor when bringing meals; and an inexplicable aura emanating from her when she occasionally gazed out the window.
Just the fact that she was the daughter of the Eastern Duke and Rachel was enough to displease him, but her unchildlike demeanor further soured Cyrus's mood.
Within her deep blue eyes, shining like sapphires, seemed to lie something Cyrus couldn't even begin to guess.
"Oh dear..."
At that moment, Isaac lamented.
"That maid is heading to Ariana's room with food scraps again."
+++
A room with only a desk, and not even a bed.
Ariana sat upright on a dining chair, wrapped in a worn blanket.
With light sky-blue hair, a small, pale face, elegantly arched eyebrows, large eyes, pupils as deep as a lake, a small, delicate nose, and plump, red lips, she possessed the youthful face of a sixteen-year-old girl, but her eyes told a different story.
Hatred and pain, utterly unthinkable for a sixteen-year-old noble lady, were etched into those eyes.
Ariana glared at the desk before her with chilling eyes, but what was reflected in them was something else.
The painful days of struggling to be loved only to be exploited, and then, death.
'Has it been four days now?'
Ariana, too, couldn't understand what had happened.
The rough feel of the rope tightening around her neck was still vivid, yet somehow, when she opened her eyes, she was back twelve years in the past.
Back to when she was confined to her room, falsely accused of stealing her mother Rachel's necklace.
She was confused and bewildered, but those feelings quickly subsided.
The time spent pondering why this had happened was also brief.
Whatever the cause, she had returned twelve years into the past, and Ariana had been given another chance to live.
-"It was simply a mistake that you were born, Ariana."
They had denied Ariana's existence, yet someone had granted her permission to live once more.
'Then I shall live.'
A chilling smile formed on Ariana's lips, then vanished.
'I'll make you regret ever giving birth to me, ever allowing my existence to continue until now.'
Ariana clenched the hands resting on her lap.
She heard the sound of a maid walking down the corridor.
Ariana knew exactly what would happen today.
.
.
In her previous life.
Ariana had simply cried.
Sad that her mother wouldn't know the truth, afraid of disappointing her mother, scared of the late-night darkness without even a lamp.
Then, when Helena's maid, Louise, brought spoiled food, Ariana refused to eat it and was beaten for her defiance.
It had been the same on this very day in her previous life.
Louise had brought discarded food from the kitchen on a plate, and Ariana had resisted, saying she couldn't possibly eat it because the rotten smell was repulsive.
Louise kept trying to force her to eat it, and Ariana's defiant voice grew louder and louder.
Just then, the elderly Duchess Bronte, who was passing by in the corridor, saw the scene and asked what on earth was happening.
Rachel, who was with the elderly Duchess Bronte, gently placed a hand on the Duchess's arm and said in a voice full of concern,
"That child stole my necklace, Mother, so I've had her stay in her room for a while. I told her to eat the same meals as the maids while she reflected, but she's still stubbornly defiant, showing no remorse."
If Rachel's words were true, it was by no means an excessive measure.
After all, being confined to one's room, eating worse than usual, and writing a reflection paper for misdeeds like theft was a common form of upbringing in any noble household.
The elderly Duchess Bronte believed Rachel's words, but Ariana protested.
"No, Mother. I didn't steal the necklace. I really didn't!"
That was the problem.
Rachel's necklace was found deep within the drawer of Ariana's only desk—placed there by someone (likely Louise).
The elderly Duchess Bronte, who cared deeply about others' opinions, her reputation, and the decorum and conduct expected of a noble, was greatly enraged and ordered Louise to beat Ariana.
Ariana cried that she hadn't stolen it even as the maid beat her calves, and the elderly Duchess Bronte, angered by Ariana's unremorseful attitude, ordered her to be confined for another week.
That night, when Ariana was exhausted from crying and lay collapsed, Rachel came to see her.
Rachel looked down at Ariana and said,
"Ariana, your mother was truly disappointed to see you today. Even if you didn't steal it, you should know how to cover for your sister's mistakes. I had hoped you would cherish your older sister..."
It was Helena who claimed Ariana had stolen Rachel's necklace. Even if Helena had lied, Rachel wanted Ariana to cover for it.
Ariana didn't want to disappoint her mother, so she immediately knelt and begged for forgiveness.
-"I'm sorry, Mother. I was wrong. Please don't be disappointed in me."
.
.
A chill settled in Ariana's blue eyes as she recalled that day.
'How foolish I was. What did that woman's disappointment matter, anyway?'
The Eastern Realm, which had made significant contributions during the founding of the Camellia Empire, was the most trusted by the Emperor among the vassal states of the East, West, South, and North.
The current Emperor, in particular, deeply trusted and cherished the current Eastern Duke, so the Western Duke employed a tactic to sow discord between the Eastern Duke and the Emperor: he married his own daughter, Rachel, to the Eastern Duke.
Rachel already had a man she loved, but as a princess of the Western Realm, she had no choice but to marry a man she didn't love for the sake of her realm.
'She must have given birth to me to avoid suspicion.'
Although the Eastern Duke married Rachel for reconciliation with the Western Realm, he likely never fully dispelled his suspicions.
Rachel gained the Eastern Duke's trust by becoming pregnant and then passed information about the Eastern Realm to the Western Duke.
As soon as she passed on valuable information, Rachel divorced the Eastern Duke and returned to the Western Realm. The Western Duke skillfully used that information to estrange the Emperor and the Eastern Duke.
-"I never wanted to give birth to you."
-"I wish you had died in the womb."
Even as she heard those words, as if being brainwashed, Ariana believed that someday her mother would love her.
If I did well, if I lived diligently, if I were useful, then she would love me, wouldn't she?
It was a foolish belief.
Rachel found perverse delight in tormenting Ariana, who resembled the Eastern Duke.
That woman, whom she had called Mother, had never for a single moment considered her a daughter.
'To think I only accepted that truth upon dying.'
Looking back now, it was a foolishness deserving of death.
Click-clack— Click-clack—
The sound of the lock outside the door opening reached her ears.
Ariana erased the burning resentment from her eyes and calmly gazed at the door.
Without a knock, the door opened, and Louise entered, carrying a tray.
As soon as she entered the room, the stench of rotten food wafted in.
In her previous life, had the elderly Duchess Bronte not smelled the rotten stench that filled this room?
'The Duchess must have known. She just wanted to pretend she didn't. But...'
Ariana watched the filthy food scraps Louise brought towards her with calm eyes.
'Will she be able to pretend she doesn't know this time, too?'
