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[Chapter 2]
‘Maybe I still have regrets about life, and that’s why I’m seeing memories flash before my eyes?’
But the rough texture of the bedsheet I felt at my fingertips was way too realistic to be just a memory.
‘Let me check.’
If this was an illusion, I only needed to wait it out.
But if I really had come back to life—if I had truly been given a second chance—
‘Letting it pass by would be stupid.’
I wasn’t going to die meaninglessly a second time.
Just in case, I grabbed a basket from the corner of the room. It was full of herbs I had gathered myself.
Though my uncle raised me to look like a noble lady, he forbade me from seeing doctors or getting medicine. He just hoped I’d grow weak and die off on my own.
But I managed to survive, and in doing so, I learned a lot about herbal medicine. For fever, injuries, colds—I had to make my own medicine for everything.
Ahfwyn was Charlotte’s fifth slave, and he experienced her “hobby” the moment he arrived at the mansion.
The slave before Ahfwyn had died too quickly, so Charlotte’s anger and frustration were at their peak.
So if my memory was correct, Ahfwyn’s condition would be terrible.
Because I took my time coming down, there was no one in the basement.
The servants must’ve cleaned up quickly while I delayed, because the place was neat.
In the center of it, Ahfwyn lay on the floor. He was covered in injuries—Charlotte had been especially cruel.
His neck and wrists were bruised from the chains. He must’ve tried to escape while still conscious.
But those chains couldn’t be broken by strength alone. They were magically reinforced. To unlock them, you needed a special key that matched the set.
‘But since I can’t get the key now, I’ll just leave the chains for now…’
I crouched in front of Ahfwyn and looked at his face.
‘This is real.’
Even in a moldy basement, his sharp and commanding aura hadn’t faded. In fact, it blended with the dark space and gave him an even more dangerous and intense feeling.
The musty smell of the unventilated basement, the cold dampness of the stone walls—all of it felt too real to be a dream.
There was no way a hallucination could recreate all this detail. So this had to be reality.
And once I realized it… a shiver crawled up my spine.
‘I really did die.’
A bitter laugh slipped out of me as resentment bubbled up.
‘I didn’t even die because of something I did… but because of a slave Charlotte bought? How does that make sense?’
“…”
Just then, Ahfwyn opened his eyes. I had expected it—he had just been pretending to sleep.
Seeing his gaze, trying to figure out who I was, made my heart clench. Maybe it was because his red eyes reminded me of the flames that swallowed me.
I didn’t blame him. Charlotte was the one who caused all this.
He had the strength to change his fate. I didn’t. That was the simple difference between living and dying.
So I spoke.
“I’m someone who came to save you.”
If there was a reason I had returned to the past, it had to be to avoid repeating the same mistakes.
“I don’t know when, but… I’ll free you.”
In this second life, I wouldn’t surrender to fate.
And freeing him would be my first goal.
Of course, I couldn’t do it now, so I held out what I brought. Ahfwyn’s eyes lingered on the basket.
“This herb has a pain-relieving effect. I’m sorry, but I can’t treat the visible wounds. It’d be too noticeable.”
But Ahfwyn didn’t take the basket.
“Why would I eat anything from you? You’re clearly that woman’s maid.”
“…?”
“Or are you seriously expecting me to believe that someone would free a master’s slave?”
Did I really look like a maid?
I paused for a moment to think about how I appeared.
Compared to Charlotte, who always wore luxurious clothes and flashy accessories, I did look plain.
‘Should I tell him who I really am?’
Should I start with my long, twisted relationship with Charlotte, then say I came back in time and now wanted to help him?
‘That would be insane.’
Even if he didn’t believe me, he’d definitely think I was crazy.
So I just smiled.
“If you don’t want to trust me, then don’t. Your feelings won’t change my actions either way.”
“…”
“But I’d like you to think about it. What else can you do right now, besides take my hand? You can’t even break the chain around your neck on your own. You can’t take a single step out of this basement, can you?”
Now his glare had a hint of hostility.
The pressure was so heavy my legs trembled, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe—but I held on. If I wanted to show him that escape was possible, I couldn’t appear weak.
“You said you didn’t want the herbs, so I’ll take them back. Just remember—this is my sincere kindness.”
“…”
“I’ll come again.”
Ahfwyn turned away like he didn’t want to hear another word, and I stood up, brushing off my skirt.
I had never expected to win him over in one visit.
Besides, I had four years. The same amount of time left before I died last time. So I was going to try my best.
I needed to prove I was different from Charlotte—so that even if the Count’s family was destroyed, I would be spared.
I was willing to do anything for that.
Ahfwyn couldn’t remember when he had become a slave.
Even the name “Ahfwyn” was one the slave trader gave him, saying it matched his good looks—like some kind of playboy.
So he didn’t really know anything.
And yet, he tried to escape.
—I need to get out of here.
The urge to escape was like an instinct. It clung to him like a natural part of his being.
Sometimes he tried to escape alone. Other times, he stirred up the other slaves to create distractions.
“You stubborn, cursed bastard.”
But every attempt failed.
It was because of the collar on his neck. While wearing it, his location could always be tracked.
“You must be dying to die, huh? Fine. If you want a grave so badly, I’ll find you one.”
The trader promised to sell him to the cruelest owner—and brought him to the Rohilton household.
There, he heard about Charlotte from the other slaves. They were terrified and said no one had ever returned alive from that place. The only thing to hope for there… was a quick death.
He had heard enough to be prepared for Charlotte.
But what he didn’t expect… was an unknown presence in that mansion.
“I’ll set you free.”
A woman who appeared out of nowhere, saying something that sounded like false hope—and then disappearing.
She came every night at the same time.
Saying she knew a “secret passage,” she appeared before him and said:
“Have you been okay?”
One day, she greeted him like it was normal.
“Your wounds look worse today…”
Another day, she examined him like she was worried.
“Ah, seriously… I told you not to provoke Charlotte.”
Another day, she sighed like someone truly concerned.
He didn’t like her.
He thought she was mocking his pitiful state.
He tried to ignore her. He figured she’d get bored and stop coming.
But at some point, he had to admit it—this woman had a strange pull.
While Charlotte was tall and had sharp eyes, this woman had a soft and delicate face.
Her whole body seemed faint—like she’d disappear the moment you looked away. Without realizing it, he started checking if she was still there and listening closely to her gentle voice.
At some point, he even noticed she wore the same clothes every time she came.
But the contents of the basket changed often. Most of the time, it was herbs for pain relief, but sometimes—like today—it had food.
Hard, dark barley bread. No one would mistake it for noble food.
“You haven’t eaten anything today, right? We had guests at the mansion. No one outside can know that the precious young lady has such a sick hobby. Still, it’s not that hard to bring you food. And the basement has soundproof magic, so nothing leaks out. They’re all just too cruel.”
She babbled on, explaining things he hadn’t even asked, while setting the basket down.
