🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 7 ….
I was left speechless, unable to take my eyes off the family photograph.
The picture was as clear as if it had been kept in a darkroom—so sharp it could have been taken just moments ago.
And yet, everything in the image felt unfamiliar.
The Duchess, beaming brightly, the Duke beside her with a gentle smile as he looked at her…
And Ariel, Jeremiah, and Davina, all laughing with carefree delight.
The main building in the background looked warm and splendid, so unlike its current desolate state.
In the photograph, they looked… happy—absurdly, unbelievably happy.
That there had been a moment when they had all smiled together—if I hadn’t seen it for myself, I would never have believed it. From what I knew of the original story, such a scene was impossible to imagine.
Unfortunately, Ariel had no memories of a happy childhood. Her memories were fragmented, broken apart by the many times she had hovered between life and death.
“Phew…”
From the moment I saw the picture, an inexplicable tightness filled my chest. My insides burned and ached as if I had terrible indigestion.
Why was I feeling like this? My stomach hurt so much.
I forced a faint smile, pretending to be fine. But the corners of my mouth, pulled up, felt stiff.
“Do you like it?”
Mikhail’s low voice tickled my ear.
His features were as rigid as always, but a warm light shimmered in his crimson eyes. For someone supposedly without emotions—like an AI—it seemed far too much.
“…Yeah. I like it.”
“Would you like to turn it over?”
With slightly trembling fingers, I flipped the photo. On the back, a familiar sentence was written.
‘May Ariel regain her health.’
The handwriting was elegant and flowing, like a blooming rose. It was clearly different from the Duke’s handwriting, which was stiff and authoritative.
“Did Mother write this?”
“Yes, it’s Madam’s handwriting.”
“…I thought so.”
Same words, different handwriting. I recalled both the Duke’s and Duchess’s notes. The love of parents wishing for their eldest daughter’s health was palpable.
A heavy lump of emotion sat in the pit of my stomach.
My heart was pounding strangely. It didn’t feel like my own.
“…Suddenly, I’m tired. Would you give me some space?”
“Yes, Young Lady. If you need anything, call for me anytime.”
“Alright.”
Once Mikhail left, I collapsed onto the sofa.
I pressed my left hand hard against my chest, clenching my teeth. The pain in my stomach was sharp now.
It felt as though I had truly become Ariel, sharing her pain.
Moist laughter—bitter and damp—spilled out. A mockery of a twisted fate.
I couldn’t help but understand Ariel’s pain. Our lives had too many similarities.
Siblings in desperate need of reform.
A father indifferent to household matters.
And a mother who had passed away too soon.
“…Haah. I miss Mom.”
I thought of my own mother. Ariel’s mother and my mother from my previous life overlapped in my mind. Both had loved their daughters dearly, and both had left their young daughters behind to face a harsh world.
‘My beautiful eldest daughter, you must be healthy and happy.’
The last words my mother spoke before passing away echoed in my ears.
A lukewarm tear dampened my eyes. A long, helpless sigh escaped me.
“Don’t cry. This isn’t some melodrama.”
I gave my own cheek a light pat with a lifeless hand. Tears had never been my strength; they never solved anything.
I looked again at Ariel’s family photo. A moment when everyone had been happy. Such days had existed for me too, in my past life.
When my mother had been alive, our family was ordinary—picture-perfect in its simplicity.
We would fight over silly things and then make up as if nothing had happened. We laughed together over the smallest matters.
Back then, I had hated my mother’s nagging.
Especially when she put extra responsibility on me simply for being the eldest daughter. My resentment peaked at those moments.
I was still a child myself, and I hated that I couldn’t act spoiled.
‘As the eldest, you must set a good example for your siblings.’
‘When I’m not here, you’re the mother. Take care of your siblings.’
But just before she closed her eyes for the last time, my mother didn’t place any responsibility on me.
She didn’t even ask me to look after my younger siblings. She only wished for my health and happiness.
It was entirely my own choice to take on the responsibility of raising my siblings.
“…Sorry for being such a foolish daughter.”
A tear rolled down my cheek and fell onto my foot. I wiped it away as if nothing had happened.
Through the blurred vision, I saw the Duchess’s radiant smile.
She must have wished, more than anyone, for Ariel to be healthy and happy.
But now that I was Ariel, her happiness was in my hands.
I unfolded the family photo again. Everyone looked peaceful and happy.
The thought that their smiles might vanish forever made my chest ache. Could Ariel—and I—truly be happy while turning my back on them?
A long sigh slipped out.
Ugh, I really am fated to live like this.
They say some people twist their own fate—well, that’s me in a nutshell.
It couldn’t be helped. I could only live as I was made.
A self-deprecating laugh escaped me. And yet, my heart felt lighter, my resolve firm.
I would walk the path of the eldest daughter once more.
“Mother, I’m sorry. Mom, I’m sorry again.”
I’ll put my happiness on hold a little longer.
If Ariel’s family was about to walk straight into misery, I couldn’t just stand by.
No, I wouldn’t.
I wanted everyone to smile together again. I’d step in and make it happen.
I’d rehabilitate this family, just like I had before. And then, as soon as I could, I’d leave to find my own happiness.
Don’t worry too much. They say the first time is the hardest, but the second time isn’t so bad.
I wiped a drop of water from the sofa with my thumb and blew my nose into a napkin.
After crying, I felt hungry. To recharge, I shoved the remaining cake into my mouth.
“…What should I start with?”
The to-do list loomed before my eyes, towering like a mountain. The Ballienor Family Rehabilitation Project wasn’t going to be easy.
I thought back to the K-Family Rehabilitation Project.
After Father entered the psychiatric hospital, he returned to normal. My siblings regained their senses after being confined to their rooms.
Everyone began to change once their environment changed.
It was faster to lock someone in a place where alcohol didn’t exist than to try to stop them from drinking.
It was faster to place them somewhere they couldn’t commit wrongdoing than to keep telling them not to.
Environment makes the person.
For a quick rehabilitation, the gloomy main house would have to go.
Just thinking about that unnaturally dark mansion sent a shiver down my spine. It was the perfect breeding ground for depression, even for perfectly normal people. The Duke clearly had no idea about the mental benefits of sunlight.
Humans without sunlight become depressed, irritable, and dark-minded. It was an ideal setup for producing villains and schemers.
I had no idea what the Duke was thinking, letting the place fall into such a state.
If he treasured the family enough to keep that photo, he couldn’t be as indifferent as he seemed.
First, I’d call him in for a talk. If talking didn’t work… I’d just have to resort to threats.
“Is someone outside?”
“Yes, Young Lady.”
“Call the Duke here. Right now.”
“…Pardon? The Duke?”
The maid’s eyes trembled violently.
She was clearly thinking: You want me to order the Duke around? Do you have multiple lives or something?
Poor thing—she didn’t know the Duke wasn’t the type she thought he was.
Metterio was… well, the romance-novel version of Kim Cheom-ji—a twisted tsundere.
He cherished his children in a way that could be downright creepy.
And I knew his secret.
Metterio was in a position where I had dirt on him—double dirt, in fact. If I told him to jump, he had to ask how high.
“If he doesn’t come willingly, tell him Ariel wants to take a picture.”
“…A picture?”
“Oh, and tell him she’ll even leave a note.”
“…Understood. I’ll tell him exactly that.”
“And tell him to come as quickly as possible.”
The maid, pale-faced, dashed out of the room.
I ordered brunch for the Duke and me.
Stress made me crave something spicy, but this was a typical romance-fantasy world—there was no red pepper powder, no gochujang, not even dried chili peppers to be found.
“…I want tteokbokki.”
Instead, an omelette that looked bland at first glance was set on the table.
I smothered it with something resembling ketchup and planned my strategy.
Not that I needed much of a plan—getting the answer I wanted from Metterio was easier than eating an omelette.
Soon, heavy footsteps approached, and the door burst open.
“The Duke is here?”
I greeted him with a bright smile, shameless for someone who had just coerced him into coming.
The Duke sat across from me, his face shadowed with unease. Anyone caught with embarrassing history tended to shrink back.
“What is it you want?”
“Have you had breakfast?”
“…No.”
“Then would you like to eat first?”
“…Alright.”
“Do you like omelettes?”
The Duke accepted the omelette I offered. When he cut into it, cheese and diced ham spilled out.
I took a large, showy bite. The warm, fluffy egg melted in my mouth.
“Mmm, so good.”
The Duke kept glancing at me as I happily devoured my omelette, until—clang—he dropped his fork.
Yellow egg smeared the milky-white marble floor.
I felt his gaze, heavy with embarrassment. I clenched my teeth to stop myself from laughing.
Casually handing him a new fork, I changed the subject.
“You said I could enter the main house?”
“Yes.”
“I will—on one condition: you meet my demands.”
