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Chapter 8
There wasn’t any useful information to be found.
“All I’m learning is how awful I used to be. Ugh. Seriously… my past self was trash.”
It would’ve been better if I didn’t remember anything. But no—every single mistake I made was carved into my memory like it had been etched onto my bones.
I sighed, hugging my lion plushie tightly, and slowly stepped out of my room.
“Excuse me.”
“Y-Yes, young lady!”
The maid standing guard at my door looked startled when she saw me. I’d gone in tidy and calm, but came out with messy hair and a restless look, so she was probably nervous—wondering if I was about to throw another fit.
“Where are the boys who came earlier?”
“Oh, the little guests who arrived with the marquis? They’ve already taken their baths and are resting in the room at the far end of the hall.”
“Really? Did anything happen after they went in? Did they do anything bad or violent?”
The maid scratched her head and shook it.
“I-I don’t really know, young lady…”
I asked around a few more people, but everyone said the same thing. Nothing had happened. Apparently, the twins refused to let anyone come near them and just stayed holed up in the corner of their room.
‘You’d better stay away from them, young lady.’
‘They’re not people you need to concern yourself with.’
Completely useless advice.
So, ignoring everyone’s protests, I quietly made my way down the hall to the very last room.
When I peeked my head through the half-open door, the room was lit by so many candles that it actually felt warm inside.
The air was filled with the smell of burning wax and candle smoke. The twins were huddled together in the corner, staring at me like startled kittens.
It looked like they were scared of the dark, clinging to the candlelight for comfort. The flickering flames made the room feel strangely eerie—like some kind of ritual.
I stepped in confidently, trying to keep my voice as calm and emotionless as possible.
“Hey, boys. Did you eat yet?”
My foot bumped into a tray of food left on the floor near the door.
Aside from the bed and a sofa, the room was practically empty—as if someone had removed anything that could be dangerous.
Why go that far?
Even the food had been placed directly on the floor. At a marquis’s house, eating off the ground would’ve earned you an hour-long scolding from the nanny.
“Guess you didn’t eat.”
The food was untouched, still perfectly arranged. But since the bread and soup were still warm, it hadn’t been there long.
I quietly studied the twins.
They’d been locked up for over ten years. They hated the dark—and feared people. Especially adults.
But now that I was seeing them again, I realized they weren’t exactly scared of me.
They just didn’t like me. They were wary of me—different from how they reacted to adults.
I sat down cross-legged in front of the food.
“You know, the cook here is really good. This bread—Grandmother herself admits it’s the best, all crispy outside and soft inside. You’re hungry, right? You’ll regret it if you don’t eat while it’s warm.”
Then I tore the bread apart with my hands.
The maid who had followed me halfway into the room gasped.
“Y-Young lady, please! Allow me to handle that. You shouldn’t touch their food with your hands—”
“I have hands and feet, don’t I? I can do it myself. And all of you—out. I’m going to play with my brothers! They’re scared of you, that’s why they won’t come near me!”
I made sure to raise my voice a little more than usual.
The maids, who had been about to step in, froze at my tone, then quietly backed out of the room.
“O-Of course, young lady. Please call us if you need anything.”
Yeah, right. They didn’t actually care about me. They were just afraid of getting blamed if I got hurt.
Just like the nanny—pretending to care, all fake smiles.
I glared at the door where they’d left, then turned my attention back to the bread.
“This bread was baked fresh today. If you dip it in honey, it’s really good, you know?”
And with that, I started my little “performance.”
If I looked like I was enjoying the food, they’d get curious and start wanting some too.
Even though I’d just eaten a full meal and pudding with Dad, I stuffed a big bite into my mouth.
The things I do for strategy.
Luckily, the older twin—the one with slightly darker hair—was watching me closely. He flinched a little, almost like he was impressed.
When I’d kicked the maids out earlier, their guard had already dropped a bit.
They were probably thinking something like:
“Wow, she chased the adults away so easily!”
“She’s amazing!”
Compared to when I’d first entered, their tension had eased noticeably.
I took advantage of the moment and tore off another big piece of bread, dipping it in honey and then into the soup.
“Mmm, so good.”
That did it. The twins crept closer, step by step.
Then, as if unable to resist any longer, they stared hungrily at the bread in my hand.
Still—they didn’t reach for the one I was eating. Instead, their eyes darted to the untouched pieces beside me, like they were suspicious.
Just how terrible had their lives been that they’d learned to fear food more than hunger?
And me… how could I have hated kids like this so much before?
I sighed softly and started tearing up all the remaining bread into smaller pieces, pretending to nibble on each one.
Only then did the twins relax completely. Slowly, carefully, they began eating—first the bread, then the soup.
“Eat slowly, boys. There’s juice too, if you want some. Should I bring you milk? It’s really good.”
I stood up to call for the maids, but before I could, one of the twins grabbed my sleeve—the older one, judging by his height and slightly darker hair.
“What is it? You don’t like it?”
He didn’t answer at first, just held onto me silently.
“Hmm?”
“You too…”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Were you… kidnapped too? Are you trapped here like us?”
It was the first time I’d ever heard their voices properly. In my previous life, they’d always looked at me like cornered animals—hissing, glaring, growling.
Even so, he spoke clearly now, his tone steady. It surprised me.
“Uh… what?”
Before I could recover, the younger twin—his cheeks puffed full of bread—mumbled,
“Brother, don’t talk to her. She might be bad too.”
“I’m not bad. Would a bad person bring you food like this?”
“Don’t trust her.”
He pulled his brother closer protectively.
In the past, I would’ve snapped at them for that—for daring to “reject” me. But now… seeing them like this, I could tell it was pure instinct. They were like animals, just doing what they needed to survive.
The older one hesitated for a moment, then followed his brother’s lead and backed away from me.
That was fine. I wasn’t expecting instant trust. Just being here, sitting in their space, was already a huge step forward.
In my first life, this would’ve been impossible.
I sat quietly and watched them eat.
They reminded me of wolves—untamed and wild, like the ones I’d seen in documentaries in my previous life.
But… no. They weren’t wolves.
They were more like stray dogs caught in the rain—small, trembling, and pitiful.
They didn’t even seem to know how to use utensils. The forks and spoons lay untouched beside the plates as they scooped food into their mouths with their hands. Crumbs and soup splattered everywhere, dirtying the floor in seconds.
Poor things.
There’s a saying that “environment makes the person.”
And it fit these twins perfectly.
The “evil twins” from the story… maybe they weren’t born villains at all. Maybe they were shaped by all this—the neglect, the fear, the abuse.
No one’s born bad. People become that way because of how they’re raised.
These two were born noble—the sons of a powerful duke—but grew up starved, beaten, and abandoned.
They’d been separated from their parents, kidnapped, and left to survive on their own.
Thinking about that made my chest ache.
