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Chapter 3
Ayla drew in a long, steadying breath and let it out slowly.
Today was the day she would meet Sada and Luca.
On the surface, it was nothing more than one of their regular visits. Yet to Ayla, it was the beginning of a new day, a new era.
“Alright.”
She smiled in satisfaction at the reflection in her mirror.
With Madam Poppy directing the maids, the old clothes of Paracel stored in the attic had been altered to fit Ayla’s form. They were simple garments, in subdued shades of navy and brown.
It might spark rumors about the eccentricities of the Solalun family’s third child—but what of it? She hadn’t even entered society yet.
Besides, do people even know I exist?
The three other Solalun siblings were already well-known.
In truth, the Solalun family itself was famous.
Their lineage stretched back to the days of the Holy Spirit Empire, a thousand years past. That empire had once unified the entire continent, a feat even the current Robati Empire had never achieved. Its brilliance in culture, art, and architecture still lingered in the minds of scholars as a lost ideal.
And the last direct descendants of that ancient imperial bloodline were none other than the Solaluns.
For a thousand years, they had proudly borne that legacy, never relinquishing the governorship granted to them in that age. They were a family both nobles and commoners recognized by name, steeped in dignity and history.
But now, on top of their noble birth, the Solalun siblings carried a touch of notoriety as well.
Helen, the eldest, was unmatched—beautiful, intelligent, capable of debating academy professors without faltering.
Paracel, the second, excelled at both studies and riding, never relinquishing first place.
Even little Leo was famous, largely thanks to Lady Rose’s tireless boasting of his charm.
And then—
“What? There’s another sibling? Not just three, but four? Who?”
That who was Ayla.
Perhaps this new appearance would brand her as merely the eccentric third daughter. Then, at least, the world would finally whisper of four Solalun siblings, not three. That was all.
But what mattered today was something else entirely.
How could she become true friends with Luca and Sada?
After much deliberation, Ayla devised her strategy:
“I am a new person now. I will show them a completely different side of me.”
Until now, she had been nothing but a daydreaming young lady. From today onward, she would be as bold and spirited as a boy. If that transformation was striking enough, surely they would believe her.
Turning from the mirror, Ayla bowed lightly to Madam Poppy.
“Thank you, Madam Poppy.”
“It’s nothing, my lady.”
The older woman stroked her cheek affectionately. Ayla had spent more time with her than with her own mother, after all.
With a bright smile, Ayla descended the stairs with firm steps. She had been told the boys were already waiting in the parlor.
First impressions—or rather, first impressions after her change—were crucial. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest.
This time… this time I won’t let them die.
Forcing a radiant smile, Ayla entered the parlor.
“Hello, it’s been a while.”
Luca, holding a bouquet, and Sada, clutching a gift box, both froze with their mouths agape.
They had come bearing gifts, believing Ayla had been bedridden for a week. Instead, they were confronted by this utterly unexpected figure.
Ayla, who had always appeared in lavish gowns layered so thickly they looked heavy, with long hair adorned in extravagant ornaments, now stood before them in plain, boyish attire.
Sada, recalling the giant ribbons she used to balance atop her head, thought wryly: How could she bear the weight of those things?
Now he could only mutter inwardly: What on earth is she planning this time?
Still, he extended his gift.
“I heard you were unwell for quite some time. I hope this will please you.”
Startled, Luca quickly followed, offering his bouquet.
“I also brought flowers. Though… in the presence of Lady Ayla, even flowers would bow their heads….”
Years of training allowed him to deliver the polished line with ease.
Ayla’s face flamed scarlet as she awkwardly accepted the bouquet.
It had been so long since she’d seen them both—tears threatened to spill. Forcing them back, she lifted her chin.
“Thank you. But from now on, you needn’t bring gifts.”
She set the bouquet aside and looked between them, her voice trembling.
“Let’s go outside first.”
Without waiting, she hurried out. Luca and Sada exchanged a glance before following.
She didn’t even look at the gifts…
Annoyance prickled at Sada, but he held it down. Best not to provoke the temper of a Solalun daughter. Who knew what she might do next?
For Ayla, the silence was torture. Her heart thudded, her stomach churned with nerves. She wanted to speak, but feared bursting into tears the moment she tried.
Finally, twisting her hands until she could bear it no longer, she spun around.
“Um, so… you’re surprised, right?”
She offered a sheepish smile, brushing a hand down her plain clothes.
Sada grinned.
“You look wonderful, Lady Ayla. Even dressed so simply, your beauty cannot be hidden.”
Her cheeks burned hotter still. Flustered, she waved her hands.
“You don’t have to say things like that anymore. And no more honorifics either. Just call me Ayla.”
“…Truly? You’re sure?”
The one who asked was Luca, third son of the famed Duke Ioran. His silver hair and golden eyes gleamed as he spoke in his usual gentle manner.
The Ioran line was legendary for their swordsmanship. Luca’s grandfather was a Sword Saint, his father a ducal general.
And Luca himself… one day, he too would be known for the blade.
Except—Ayla remembered bitterly—he had fallen prey to the crown princess’s schemes, sent to guard the northern wall, where he died.
Ugh, the northern wall… what awful memories.
She had even chased him there, in an off-shoulder gown no less, simply because she had imagined—
The snowy wall as backdrop, my delicate self shivering in a gown, Luca’s cloak wrapped around me, his eyes burning with passion…
The thought made her cringe. She banished the memory and answered firmly.
“Yes. Please, call me that.”
Then she turned to Sada.
“You too, Sada.”
He studied her with unreadable eyes. With his shock of curly red hair and moss-green eyes that looked nearly black in shadow, he was far harder to read than Luca.
Sada Ult belonged to a newly risen noble family. His father, once a maritime magnate, had been granted a countship by the emperor. Beyond that, Ayla realized, she knew very little about either boy’s background.
Why would she? For three years, she’d been too consumed with her own fantasies.
But Sada too, in that other life, had fallen into the crown princess’s net—sent to the desert front, never to return.
No matter what, I have to keep these two fish out of her net this time.
The princess’s mysterious charm had lured countless men into her orbit, pawns she used at her leisure.
Whatever the demons plot within the palace, I won’t let them have Luca and Sada.
At last, Sada smiled faintly.
“Alright. I’ll do as you say, Ayla.”
That look made her shrink back.
He doesn’t believe me at all. Not after three years of ‘I’m Aylaaa~’ in my baby voice.
If she wanted to shatter that image in one blow, she would need more than just a change of clothes.
“Clothes alone won’t be enough.”
