How she lived, what Byron was up to, and who, and what they had to do to catch him.
If she were to tell all these stories, she wouldn't have enough time even if she stayed up all night.
'I think there was a secret passage somewhere around here.'
Aila had never really used it, so she never went in, but she had found the entrance to the secret passage when she first entered this room in her previous life.
She had kept it in mind in the hopes that it would help Byron's scheme.
It was not of much use on the day she returned to the past, however, as Byron had confidently entered through the main gate disguised as a porter.
‘This statue... I think it would have been okay to twist it like this.’
Aila twisted the hand of the angel statue adorning the wall. Then, the wall itself spun around, revealing a door leading into a passageway.
‘...I wish it were connected to the room where my mother and father are.’
She entered the passageway, carrying a small candlestick from the table.
As she turned the handle inside the passage, the space where the door had been was soon transformed back into a plain wall decoration.
As Aila walked through the maze-like passageways, relying on a small candle, she began to fear that she might get lost and end up wandering around here for the rest of her life.
But she tried to erase that thought and, relying on her memory and instincts, walked in the direction of the Duke and Duchess's room.
How long did it take to walk like that?
She was startled when she saw the mirror hanging in the hallway. Why on earth would there be a mirror in a place like this?
But upon closer inspection, she saw that it was not a mirror, but a portrait.
She had no idea who or how she had painted her like this, but the moment she saw the chair in front of the portrait, her eyes grew hot.
The thought that one of her parents, or maybe both of them, might be sitting in this chair looking at their daughter's portrait brought tears to her eyes.
And somehow, she felt like she had come to the right destination.
Aila was so sure that this must be her parents' bedroom.
As Aila moved to find the handle that would open the wall, a voice came from within the alcove.
Because of the thick walls, she couldn't hear much, but it seemed like her parents were talking about something.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in advance, Ophelia. I made my own decisions.”
"No. I was already considering hiring more maids, as I felt bad leaving Laura alone to look after Aila. Baron Herzig and his family are renowned for their kindness."
At first glance, it seemed like they were talking about bringing Lisa as a maid.
Now that her parents' story seemed to be over, Aila placed her hand on the doorknob to open the door.
That was when.
“You saw it too, didn’t you? It was Aila’s hand.”
Ophelia's voice sounded angry.
'My hand?'
Aila panicked and quickly lowered her hand, which had been gripping the handle. She couldn't figure out what on earth was in her hand that had her mother so angry.
"...Are you talking about calluses? Yes, I was also surprised when I saw them in Herzig's territory. They looked like the hands of a knight trained for a long time."
“What on earth did he make that little child do...!”
Ophelia burst into tears, saying it was heartbreaking to see the young child's hands covered in calluses and old scars, which should have been soft and tender for a long time.
Aila looked at her hand with an embarrassed expression.
It was definitely rough, unlike the noble lady's hands.
Who knew that hand would break her parents' hearts?
Now that she thinks about it, she remembers that in her past life, when he first held her hand, Roderick stared at it silently for a long time.
Maybe it was something she couldn't know anymore.
It occurred to her that Roderick in her previous life might have recognized Aila as a trained assassin.
She made excuses, saying that it was the calluses she had gotten from growing up as a commoner and helping out in the fields, but could her father, who was skilled in swordsmanship, really not have known about her lies?
Even though he knew she was lying, he accepted it without saying anything because she was his own daughter.
Because she was his daughter. He must have believed that his daughter would never harm him.
When Aila thought about her past self who had betrayed that trust, her heart felt like it was being torn to pieces.
No, now wasn't the time to repent for the mistakes of her past life. It was time to join forces with her parents and condemn those who had shaped her life this way.
It wasn't too late to atone for the foolish things she had done, even after she had killed Byron.
Aila grabbed the handle and turned it forcefully.
Where the wall had been, it had become a passageway, making a creaking sound just like it had in her room.
“...Aila?”
“How did you get through that passage...?”
Even though there was no time to tell them about the secret passage, the couple were startled by their daughter's sudden appearance from the passage and looked at her.
"Shhh."
Aila put her index finger to her lips. If someone outside discovered she was secretly there, and if that person was Byron's spy... everything would be ruined.
“Someone might be eavesdropping.”
“Yeah... I thought you might be tired, so I planned to talk about it tomorrow, but I didn’t know you’d be here. I would have called you when the time came.”
Ophelia looked at Aila's complexion with a worried expression.
“It’s okay, Mother. I’m in good shape.”
She was born strong and strong, and because she trained from a young age, she didn't feel tired easily.
Having traveled around the country with Byron, she had developed a distaste for long carriage rides.
“Come here and sit down.”
Roderick pointed to a long armchair in the room.
Aila awkwardly stepped into the couple's bedroom, feeling like she was being treated with excessive hospitality for a daughter who had suddenly barged in without an invitation, and through a secret passage.
The bedroom smelled like her parents' scent. Of course, Ophelia's sweet floral scent was mixed with Roderick's, like the wintry scent of trees.
She took a deep breath and took in the scent of her parents, something she hadn't noticed before.
"His Highness the Crown Prince relayed the general story. Like, what purpose did Byron have for you? And... I also know that you learned swordsmanship from Cloud Air."
As she took a deep breath and struggled to open her mouth, Roderick spoke first.
“...Yes, Father.”
Aila opened her mouth, her hair tangled in her hands, with an anxious expression.
It was quite painful to confess the years she had grown up believing Byron was her father.
“I... believed he was my biological father, and lived solely to avenge him. But... it turned out I wasn’t his biological daughter.”
She tried to tell her parents in a calm voice, not wanting to worry them, but strangely, tears fell as if her tear ducts were broken.
“...When did you find out about that fact?”
Ophelia asked, wiping her daughter's tears with her sleeve.
Her teeth chattered as she thought of the betrayal her young daughter must have felt when she realized she had been deceived her entire life.
“A year and... a little more.”
Although she was a little worried that her mother's sleeve might get dirty, Aila obediently accepted her touch.
It was her first time being treated like a child, so she felt a little awkward, but somehow, it was a hand that made her feel safe.
She was only twelve. A shocking secret, too much for a child to bear, at only twelve. Ophelia suppressed her rising anger and exchanged glances with her husband.
Roderick had an icy expression on his face, but behind his calm eyes, a terrifying anger burned.
“Can I ask how you knew?”
At her father's question, Aila hiccuped without realizing it.
She figured it was a question she'd hear someday. And someday, she was ready to confess everything she's been through.
But that wasn't the case now. Not yet... because she wasn't mentally ready.
At least she couldn't say anything until Byron, the mastermind behind all this, was held accountable.
“...Is it embarrassing to say?”
As she closed her mouth with a confused expression, Ophelia asked in a worried voice.
Aila nodded slowly.
If she were a skilled liar, she could have come up with a reasonable excuse her parents would accept—say, that she had overheard Cloud and Byron's conversation.
But she didn't want to do that.
It was impossible to lie to her parents.
“Someday... I’ll definitely tell you.”
Then her parents would have forgiven me without hesitation.
Just like in her past life.
She could still vividly recall her father's face, looking at her with warm eyes even as he died in his daughter's hands, as if it were yesterday.
“Yes, talk to me whenever you’re ready.”
“Just wait without rushing me.”
Her mother hugged Aila, and her father gently stroked her back. Those were warm, comforting words.
If she were to tell all these stories, she wouldn't have enough time even if she stayed up all night.
'I think there was a secret passage somewhere around here.'
Aila had never really used it, so she never went in, but she had found the entrance to the secret passage when she first entered this room in her previous life.
She had kept it in mind in the hopes that it would help Byron's scheme.
It was not of much use on the day she returned to the past, however, as Byron had confidently entered through the main gate disguised as a porter.
‘This statue... I think it would have been okay to twist it like this.’
Aila twisted the hand of the angel statue adorning the wall. Then, the wall itself spun around, revealing a door leading into a passageway.
‘...I wish it were connected to the room where my mother and father are.’
She entered the passageway, carrying a small candlestick from the table.
As she turned the handle inside the passage, the space where the door had been was soon transformed back into a plain wall decoration.
As Aila walked through the maze-like passageways, relying on a small candle, she began to fear that she might get lost and end up wandering around here for the rest of her life.
But she tried to erase that thought and, relying on her memory and instincts, walked in the direction of the Duke and Duchess's room.
How long did it take to walk like that?
She was startled when she saw the mirror hanging in the hallway. Why on earth would there be a mirror in a place like this?
But upon closer inspection, she saw that it was not a mirror, but a portrait.
She had no idea who or how she had painted her like this, but the moment she saw the chair in front of the portrait, her eyes grew hot.
The thought that one of her parents, or maybe both of them, might be sitting in this chair looking at their daughter's portrait brought tears to her eyes.
And somehow, she felt like she had come to the right destination.
Aila was so sure that this must be her parents' bedroom.
As Aila moved to find the handle that would open the wall, a voice came from within the alcove.
Because of the thick walls, she couldn't hear much, but it seemed like her parents were talking about something.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in advance, Ophelia. I made my own decisions.”
"No. I was already considering hiring more maids, as I felt bad leaving Laura alone to look after Aila. Baron Herzig and his family are renowned for their kindness."
At first glance, it seemed like they were talking about bringing Lisa as a maid.
Now that her parents' story seemed to be over, Aila placed her hand on the doorknob to open the door.
That was when.
“You saw it too, didn’t you? It was Aila’s hand.”
Ophelia's voice sounded angry.
'My hand?'
Aila panicked and quickly lowered her hand, which had been gripping the handle. She couldn't figure out what on earth was in her hand that had her mother so angry.
"...Are you talking about calluses? Yes, I was also surprised when I saw them in Herzig's territory. They looked like the hands of a knight trained for a long time."
“What on earth did he make that little child do...!”
Ophelia burst into tears, saying it was heartbreaking to see the young child's hands covered in calluses and old scars, which should have been soft and tender for a long time.
Aila looked at her hand with an embarrassed expression.
It was definitely rough, unlike the noble lady's hands.
Who knew that hand would break her parents' hearts?
Now that she thinks about it, she remembers that in her past life, when he first held her hand, Roderick stared at it silently for a long time.
Maybe it was something she couldn't know anymore.
It occurred to her that Roderick in her previous life might have recognized Aila as a trained assassin.
She made excuses, saying that it was the calluses she had gotten from growing up as a commoner and helping out in the fields, but could her father, who was skilled in swordsmanship, really not have known about her lies?
Even though he knew she was lying, he accepted it without saying anything because she was his own daughter.
Because she was his daughter. He must have believed that his daughter would never harm him.
When Aila thought about her past self who had betrayed that trust, her heart felt like it was being torn to pieces.
No, now wasn't the time to repent for the mistakes of her past life. It was time to join forces with her parents and condemn those who had shaped her life this way.
It wasn't too late to atone for the foolish things she had done, even after she had killed Byron.
Aila grabbed the handle and turned it forcefully.
Where the wall had been, it had become a passageway, making a creaking sound just like it had in her room.
“...Aila?”
“How did you get through that passage...?”
Even though there was no time to tell them about the secret passage, the couple were startled by their daughter's sudden appearance from the passage and looked at her.
"Shhh."
Aila put her index finger to her lips. If someone outside discovered she was secretly there, and if that person was Byron's spy... everything would be ruined.
“Someone might be eavesdropping.”
“Yeah... I thought you might be tired, so I planned to talk about it tomorrow, but I didn’t know you’d be here. I would have called you when the time came.”
Ophelia looked at Aila's complexion with a worried expression.
“It’s okay, Mother. I’m in good shape.”
She was born strong and strong, and because she trained from a young age, she didn't feel tired easily.
Having traveled around the country with Byron, she had developed a distaste for long carriage rides.
“Come here and sit down.”
Roderick pointed to a long armchair in the room.
Aila awkwardly stepped into the couple's bedroom, feeling like she was being treated with excessive hospitality for a daughter who had suddenly barged in without an invitation, and through a secret passage.
The bedroom smelled like her parents' scent. Of course, Ophelia's sweet floral scent was mixed with Roderick's, like the wintry scent of trees.
She took a deep breath and took in the scent of her parents, something she hadn't noticed before.
"His Highness the Crown Prince relayed the general story. Like, what purpose did Byron have for you? And... I also know that you learned swordsmanship from Cloud Air."
As she took a deep breath and struggled to open her mouth, Roderick spoke first.
“...Yes, Father.”
Aila opened her mouth, her hair tangled in her hands, with an anxious expression.
It was quite painful to confess the years she had grown up believing Byron was her father.
“I... believed he was my biological father, and lived solely to avenge him. But... it turned out I wasn’t his biological daughter.”
She tried to tell her parents in a calm voice, not wanting to worry them, but strangely, tears fell as if her tear ducts were broken.
“...When did you find out about that fact?”
Ophelia asked, wiping her daughter's tears with her sleeve.
Her teeth chattered as she thought of the betrayal her young daughter must have felt when she realized she had been deceived her entire life.
“A year and... a little more.”
Although she was a little worried that her mother's sleeve might get dirty, Aila obediently accepted her touch.
It was her first time being treated like a child, so she felt a little awkward, but somehow, it was a hand that made her feel safe.
She was only twelve. A shocking secret, too much for a child to bear, at only twelve. Ophelia suppressed her rising anger and exchanged glances with her husband.
Roderick had an icy expression on his face, but behind his calm eyes, a terrifying anger burned.
“Can I ask how you knew?”
At her father's question, Aila hiccuped without realizing it.
She figured it was a question she'd hear someday. And someday, she was ready to confess everything she's been through.
But that wasn't the case now. Not yet... because she wasn't mentally ready.
At least she couldn't say anything until Byron, the mastermind behind all this, was held accountable.
“...Is it embarrassing to say?”
As she closed her mouth with a confused expression, Ophelia asked in a worried voice.
Aila nodded slowly.
If she were a skilled liar, she could have come up with a reasonable excuse her parents would accept—say, that she had overheard Cloud and Byron's conversation.
But she didn't want to do that.
It was impossible to lie to her parents.
“Someday... I’ll definitely tell you.”
And she will seek forgiveness. For the act of committing patricide, no matter how much she was deceived by Byron.
Just like in her past life.
She could still vividly recall her father's face, looking at her with warm eyes even as he died in his daughter's hands, as if it were yesterday.
“Yes, talk to me whenever you’re ready.”
“Just wait without rushing me.”
Her mother hugged Aila, and her father gently stroked her back. Those were warm, comforting words.
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