There were times when Aila still doubted whether she was dreaming.
Not only did Cloud save her from being caught eavesdropping on Byron's conversation, but he also revealed that he had suspected her for a long time but had kept quiet.
Since that day, Cloud had been acting as if nothing had happened between them, so even though she knew that vivid memory wasn't a dream, she sometimes wondered if it had been a dream.
The next day, Laura departed for the capital with a group of unknown Marchionesses, each to infiltrate the Duke's household.
And Aila and the rest were still sleeping rough. They seemed to be on a long journey towards some destination.
Her heart pounded as she recalled the moment when she was almost caught eavesdropping on someone who seemed to be the Marquis, but she still felt a pang of regret at not being able to find out his name.
Fortunately, Cloud called him 'Your Grace', so his identity was clearly known.
There weren't many Marquises in this Peles Empire, so if she returned to her parents and secretly inquired about them, she would be able to find out their names.
“Miss, the master is looking for you.”
Capella, who was attending to Aila in place of her daughter, who had left for the capital, called out to her quietly.
Just as she was about to get into her sleeping bag and go to sleep, Aila got up and stepped out of the tent. It was no small feat for Byron to be looking for her in the middle of the night.
When she came outside, Cloud was waiting for her, seemingly ready to take her to Byron's tent.
Aila followed him, glancing at his profile. His blunt face was still impenetrable, leaving her unable to discern his thoughts.
“...Do you know what’s going on?”
She asked in a quiet voice. She wasn't expecting a response. She was simply hoping to get a hint.
But unexpectedly, an answer came back from Cloud.
“It won’t be bad news for you, young lady.”
Even though the answer was enigmatic.
It couldn't be bad news. At this point, there could only be one piece of good news for her.
She means going back home.
A small hope arose in Aila's heart, but she tried to shake it off.
One of the reasons was that she didn't want to show Cloud that she was happy, but more importantly, she hoped that things wouldn't go as planned, and she wouldn't be disappointed.
The higher the expectations, the greater the disappointment.
“...I still don’t fully trust you.”
“Yes, Miss... I’m sorry.”
The conversation she had with Cloud while they were moving to Byron's tent told her that what happened that night was not a dream, but reality.
Although they hadn't openly discussed what had happened that night, it was the first time they had hinted, however vaguely, that something was changing in their relationship.
And, when she arrived in front of Byron, she was able to hear the good news she had been waiting for.
“Come closer, my daughter.”
As she knelt before him at Byron's beckoning gesture, he stroked her hair and opened his mouth.
“Did I ever tell you why this father wanders around like a sinner?”
At that question, Aila had to search her memory for a moment.
Byron's story has been told countless times. It's the story of a long-time friend, or rather, a traitor, who usurped his position and gave it to someone else, framing him for a crime he didn't commit and making him a criminal.
Although the story was a distorted version that was very different from the truth.
“You didn’t say exactly, but you said that there was a traitor... someone who had to take revenge.”
"Yes, that's right. My daughter, I think it's time. It's time for you to avenge your father."
At Byron's words, Aila tried to suppress the joy that was welling up in her chest and asked.
“What should I do, Father?”
“...He has a lost daughter. I think you should disguise yourself as that daughter and enter his house. And... Condemn that man on behalf of his father.”
At las...!
How long had she waited for these words? Ever since she returned to her twelve-year-old body, she had endured countless disgusting moments, waiting for this moment.
In her previous life, she was only sixteen when he was finally sent to the Duke's household. Now, she was not even fourteen. She would soon turn fourteen in the fall, but that was still a full two years shorter.
And that's because it hasn't even been a year since she returned to the past.
"Yes, Father. If you wish, I will do so right now."
Her voice was filled with a joy that could not be hidden, no matter how hard she tried.
But Byron didn't seem to find it strange. He seemed to interpret her joy as a chance to win the approval of her father, who loved her so much.
"Yeah, that's a good position. But not right now. I have some preparations to make."
And he started explaining the things he 'needed to prepare'.
The nanny who took Aila Hailing Weishaffen away, the justification that had eluded her for so long, was finally revealed. This was the work of creating that justification.
‘...It’s the same as my last life.’
Byron's 'Life of Aila Weishaffen' was no different from her past life.
That meant that the note she had received from Winfred would soon be put to use.
To save those who were a great comfort to her.
"So, starting tomorrow, you can stay there. You should remember what life is like there. That way, you won't be suspected."
“Yes, Father.”
Now that she felt like she'd heard everything, Aila slowly prepared to get up. She wanted to escape Byron's clutches as quickly as possible.
But Byron didn't seem to have any intention of letting her go yet.
“Oh, and by the way, there’s something I need you to do before you kill your father’s enemy.”
“What is that, Father?”
What should I do first? She tried to figure out what it was, but nothing came to mind, so Aila waited for Byron's answer.
“...There will be a newborn baby in that house. First, kill that one. He’s so weak he can’t even control his own body. It’ll be as easy as breathing for you.”
And in response to the reply, Aila forgot to control her expression for a moment and looked at Byron.
Are you serious?
What did a newborn baby do that you want to kill him when he's only a few months old?
And that too, with none other than her own hands.
She had only heard the story of her birth from Winfred, and she had never even met her younger brother in person. She had to kill him with her own hands.
She thought she had already seen the full extent of Byron's wickedness. She thought nothing could be more cruel or vicious. But...
Even evil gods tend to show at least a shred of mercy to the young and weak. Byron, it seemed, was the worst kind of human, lacking even the slightest ethical awareness.
“Why aren’t you answering, daughter?”
And he asked in a sharp voice whether he could tolerate even that moment of hesitation.
'The child is innocent.'
Aila barely managed to swallow the words that kept threatening to come out of her mouth.
Even if Roderick was the greatest villain in the world, as Byron claims, what sin did Noah commit that he deserved to die?
“...If Father wishes, I will follow.”
She had no choice but to say this in the end.
Even if it was just a thoughtless remark, and she had no intention of actually killing Noah, the mere fact of saying so made her feel miserable.
It's that eerie feeling of committing a terrible sin that a human being should never commit.
“Yes, that’s my daughter.”
Byron finally stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. The sticky texture felt unpleasant.
“Then let’s go back and rest. You’ll be busy starting tomorrow.”
“Yes, Father.”
It was liberation. Aila bit her lip hard to hide the trembling anger. She bit so hard it felt like a cold tingle.
Still, it was fortunate that she was able to come to her senses and answer, even if it was only belatedly. If she hadn't heard the news of Noah's birth from Winfred and only learned of his existence now, she's sure she would still be stunned.
“Cloud, you stay.”
Cloud tried to follow her out of the tent, but Byron stopped him.
Aila was so angry she felt like crying. She wishes she could just sit down and cry out loud.
But there were too many eyes watching her nearby. Capella, sharing the same tent, would surely find it strange if she spotted even a tear stain on her face.
Aila held back her tears until she lay down in her sleeping bag and tried to sleep.
How many emotions had she swallowed and suppressed over the past year? Patience wasn't that difficult for her.
No, actually, it was too hard. She wanted to cry alone, somewhere where there was no one, somewhere where she didn't have to worry about anyone.
Maybe she just wanted to cry in her mother's arms.
When she was very young, she must have buried her face in her mother's chest and burst into tears, but sadly, there was no such scene in her memory.
But still, Aila missed her embrace so much.
She prayed for time to pass quickly as she went to sleep. As each day passed, the time to return to her parents drew nearer, and she consoled herself with that.
Not only did Cloud save her from being caught eavesdropping on Byron's conversation, but he also revealed that he had suspected her for a long time but had kept quiet.
Since that day, Cloud had been acting as if nothing had happened between them, so even though she knew that vivid memory wasn't a dream, she sometimes wondered if it had been a dream.
The next day, Laura departed for the capital with a group of unknown Marchionesses, each to infiltrate the Duke's household.
And Aila and the rest were still sleeping rough. They seemed to be on a long journey towards some destination.
Her heart pounded as she recalled the moment when she was almost caught eavesdropping on someone who seemed to be the Marquis, but she still felt a pang of regret at not being able to find out his name.
Fortunately, Cloud called him 'Your Grace', so his identity was clearly known.
There weren't many Marquises in this Peles Empire, so if she returned to her parents and secretly inquired about them, she would be able to find out their names.
“Miss, the master is looking for you.”
Capella, who was attending to Aila in place of her daughter, who had left for the capital, called out to her quietly.
Just as she was about to get into her sleeping bag and go to sleep, Aila got up and stepped out of the tent. It was no small feat for Byron to be looking for her in the middle of the night.
When she came outside, Cloud was waiting for her, seemingly ready to take her to Byron's tent.
Aila followed him, glancing at his profile. His blunt face was still impenetrable, leaving her unable to discern his thoughts.
“...Do you know what’s going on?”
She asked in a quiet voice. She wasn't expecting a response. She was simply hoping to get a hint.
But unexpectedly, an answer came back from Cloud.
“It won’t be bad news for you, young lady.”
Even though the answer was enigmatic.
It couldn't be bad news. At this point, there could only be one piece of good news for her.
She means going back home.
A small hope arose in Aila's heart, but she tried to shake it off.
One of the reasons was that she didn't want to show Cloud that she was happy, but more importantly, she hoped that things wouldn't go as planned, and she wouldn't be disappointed.
The higher the expectations, the greater the disappointment.
“...I still don’t fully trust you.”
“Yes, Miss... I’m sorry.”
The conversation she had with Cloud while they were moving to Byron's tent told her that what happened that night was not a dream, but reality.
Although they hadn't openly discussed what had happened that night, it was the first time they had hinted, however vaguely, that something was changing in their relationship.
And, when she arrived in front of Byron, she was able to hear the good news she had been waiting for.
“Come closer, my daughter.”
As she knelt before him at Byron's beckoning gesture, he stroked her hair and opened his mouth.
“Did I ever tell you why this father wanders around like a sinner?”
At that question, Aila had to search her memory for a moment.
Byron's story has been told countless times. It's the story of a long-time friend, or rather, a traitor, who usurped his position and gave it to someone else, framing him for a crime he didn't commit and making him a criminal.
Although the story was a distorted version that was very different from the truth.
“You didn’t say exactly, but you said that there was a traitor... someone who had to take revenge.”
"Yes, that's right. My daughter, I think it's time. It's time for you to avenge your father."
At Byron's words, Aila tried to suppress the joy that was welling up in her chest and asked.
“What should I do, Father?”
“...He has a lost daughter. I think you should disguise yourself as that daughter and enter his house. And... Condemn that man on behalf of his father.”
At las...!
How long had she waited for these words? Ever since she returned to her twelve-year-old body, she had endured countless disgusting moments, waiting for this moment.
In her previous life, she was only sixteen when he was finally sent to the Duke's household. Now, she was not even fourteen. She would soon turn fourteen in the fall, but that was still a full two years shorter.
And that's because it hasn't even been a year since she returned to the past.
"Yes, Father. If you wish, I will do so right now."
Her voice was filled with a joy that could not be hidden, no matter how hard she tried.
But Byron didn't seem to find it strange. He seemed to interpret her joy as a chance to win the approval of her father, who loved her so much.
"Yeah, that's a good position. But not right now. I have some preparations to make."
And he started explaining the things he 'needed to prepare'.
The nanny who took Aila Hailing Weishaffen away, the justification that had eluded her for so long, was finally revealed. This was the work of creating that justification.
‘...It’s the same as my last life.’
Byron's 'Life of Aila Weishaffen' was no different from her past life.
That meant that the note she had received from Winfred would soon be put to use.
To save those who were a great comfort to her.
"So, starting tomorrow, you can stay there. You should remember what life is like there. That way, you won't be suspected."
“Yes, Father.”
Now that she felt like she'd heard everything, Aila slowly prepared to get up. She wanted to escape Byron's clutches as quickly as possible.
But Byron didn't seem to have any intention of letting her go yet.
“Oh, and by the way, there’s something I need you to do before you kill your father’s enemy.”
“What is that, Father?”
What should I do first? She tried to figure out what it was, but nothing came to mind, so Aila waited for Byron's answer.
“...There will be a newborn baby in that house. First, kill that one. He’s so weak he can’t even control his own body. It’ll be as easy as breathing for you.”
And in response to the reply, Aila forgot to control her expression for a moment and looked at Byron.
Are you serious?
What did a newborn baby do that you want to kill him when he's only a few months old?
And that too, with none other than her own hands.
She had only heard the story of her birth from Winfred, and she had never even met her younger brother in person. She had to kill him with her own hands.
She thought she had already seen the full extent of Byron's wickedness. She thought nothing could be more cruel or vicious. But...
Even evil gods tend to show at least a shred of mercy to the young and weak. Byron, it seemed, was the worst kind of human, lacking even the slightest ethical awareness.
“Why aren’t you answering, daughter?”
And he asked in a sharp voice whether he could tolerate even that moment of hesitation.
'The child is innocent.'
Aila barely managed to swallow the words that kept threatening to come out of her mouth.
Even if Roderick was the greatest villain in the world, as Byron claims, what sin did Noah commit that he deserved to die?
“...If Father wishes, I will follow.”
She had no choice but to say this in the end.
Even if it was just a thoughtless remark, and she had no intention of actually killing Noah, the mere fact of saying so made her feel miserable.
It's that eerie feeling of committing a terrible sin that a human being should never commit.
“Yes, that’s my daughter.”
Byron finally stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. The sticky texture felt unpleasant.
“Then let’s go back and rest. You’ll be busy starting tomorrow.”
“Yes, Father.”
It was liberation. Aila bit her lip hard to hide the trembling anger. She bit so hard it felt like a cold tingle.
Still, it was fortunate that she was able to come to her senses and answer, even if it was only belatedly. If she hadn't heard the news of Noah's birth from Winfred and only learned of his existence now, she's sure she would still be stunned.
“Cloud, you stay.”
Cloud tried to follow her out of the tent, but Byron stopped him.
Aila was so angry she felt like crying. She wishes she could just sit down and cry out loud.
But there were too many eyes watching her nearby. Capella, sharing the same tent, would surely find it strange if she spotted even a tear stain on her face.
Aila held back her tears until she lay down in her sleeping bag and tried to sleep.
How many emotions had she swallowed and suppressed over the past year? Patience wasn't that difficult for her.
No, actually, it was too hard. She wanted to cry alone, somewhere where there was no one, somewhere where she didn't have to worry about anyone.
Maybe she just wanted to cry in her mother's arms.
When she was very young, she must have buried her face in her mother's chest and burst into tears, but sadly, there was no such scene in her memory.
But still, Aila missed her embrace so much.
She prayed for time to pass quickly as she went to sleep. As each day passed, the time to return to her parents drew nearer, and she consoled herself with that.
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