YWPWYLFDM 12

Chapter 12

Ophelia had always been healthy. Despite her delicate outward appearance, she had never once fallen ill, always brimming with vitality and radiating a bright smile.

The last time Byron had seen her like that with his own eyes was more than ten years ago. Yet, even after all that time, he had kept track of her circumstances.

But something like this had never happened before.

“When? Just when did she collapse?”

“Judging from the date written in the letter, it must have been about ten days ago.”

Byron had strictly ordered his men to report immediately if anything happened to Ophelia. But even if the report was sent swiftly, it would still take time before it reached Byron’s hands.

It was because he was constantly wandering, fleeing across this vast continent.

The only reason he had been able to receive news of Ophelia within ten days was thanks to a special messenger bird. A magical carrier pigeon, trained to follow a trace imbued with mana, capable of delivering letters anywhere.

Without it, Byron would only have learned of her condition much, much later.

Byron shot up from his seat. All he wanted was to rush to the capital, Venator, immediately. He didn’t care that he was a wanted man, nor that he was wearing nothing but a single robe.

None of that mattered.

He felt as if he would go mad if he didn’t see Ophelia with his own eyes right away.

But his longing for the woman he loved lasted only a brief moment. A more primal emotion held him back—

Fear.

“……”

Byron looked down at the place where his right hand should have been, his expression frozen in terror. Even now, he sometimes woke from sleep with phantom pain from a hand that no longer existed.

This was a world where healing magic could mend nearly any wound, but there was no way to restore a cleanly severed hand.

He hated admitting it. Hated acknowledging that he feared the man who had taken everything from him—Roderick.

His beloved. His honor. Everything that should rightfully have been his.

But fear lingered. It was instinct.

A prey animal standing before a predator had no choice but to feel fear.

And Cloud understood his lord’s terror. Of course, he would never voice such disloyal thoughts aloud and worsen Byron’s already foul mood.

In the entire Pelles Empire, no one could surpass Roderick Weissenhafen with a sword. His body was beyond human limits, his swordsmanship a gift from the gods themselves.

As their family’s sworn enemy, Cloud wanted to deny it—but Roderick’s sword was flawless. Perfect.

And to think he even has Ophelia Heiling by his side. The gods really are unfair.

Cloud clicked his tongue inwardly. Facing such a man as their enemy made even his own resolve seem reckless.

But he had no choice. His older brother had sacrificed his life trying to protect their lord. And for the sake of his widowed sister-in-law and young niece, Cloud had to see it through. He had no complaints about that.

While Cloud was lost in thought, Byron sank back onto the bed. Burying his face in his one remaining hand, he let out a deep sigh, looking utterly wretched.

“I’ll report to you the moment we receive any further news, my lord.”

“…Fine. Leave me now. I want to be alone.”

“Yes, my lord.”

When Byron was in such a foul mood, it was always best to leave him alone. Staying near him risked being struck by whatever object he might hurl in anger.

I’d better warn the others to be careful as well.

Cloud sighed as he left Byron’s chamber. He planned to tell his sister-in-law and his niece, Laura, first.

Even though Laura rarely came near Byron, Cloud still worried. Ayla, always craving her father’s affection, might foolishly hang around him and end up hurt.

…No wonder my sister-in-law worries so much.

Cloud let out a bitter laugh at himself.

In the end, Ayla was just a disposable piece to be used and thrown away. Once Roderick was assassinated, she too would be killed, no longer of use.

And yet, he couldn’t help but feel for her.

Shaking his head, Cloud forced away the guilt pricking at his heart.

“Ah.”

Changing out of her sweat-soaked training clothes, Ayla flinched when her index finger brushed against the fabric, a small sound escaping her lips. It was the wound she had gotten last night, scraped against the stone wall while trying to open the secret passage.

It wasn’t serious—just a little skin scraped off—but each time it rubbed against something, it stung.

“What’s this? When did you hurt yourself, young lady?”

“…Just a scratch, nothing more.”

It was normal to pick up little injuries while training.

Now, she was skilled enough with both sword and bow that she no longer got new wounds often, but in her previous life, around this same age, her hands had been covered with cuts. A scratch like this was nothing.

Laura seemed to think the same and didn’t question it further. There was something else on her mind anyway.

“This should help. You can treat small wounds like this yourself now, right?”

Laura set down a basket of salves and bandages with a curt tone.

It was always like this. Even if Ayla had been seriously injured, no one would have worried about her health—aside from Cloud, who occasionally showed a trace of sympathy.

As Ayla stared at the basket of medicine tossed to her so coldly, Laura spoke again.

“By the way, you’ll be dining alone today.”

“Alone? Why?”

Ayla blinked in confusion.

Sometimes she ate dinner without Byron, but she almost always shared a late breakfast with him. It was rare for him to skip it.

“I don’t know. Apparently, the master is in a foul mood and wants to be alone. Are you sure you didn’t do something wrong, young lady?”

Laura crossed her arms and gave her a sharp look. Of course, she knew Ayla hadn’t done anything while locked in the attic all night—but she said it just to needle her.

And needle it did. Ayla’s heart plummeted.

Could it be… did he discover I’ve been sneaking into his room?

That would be no small mistake. Not only had she slipped out through the secret passage, she had also infiltrated Byron’s chamber while he slept and tried to dig into his secrets.

Thanks to the cryptic coded letters, she hadn’t uncovered much—but if she were caught, she couldn’t even imagine the consequences.

“Well then, rest. I’ll bring your meal here once it’s ready.”

Laura smirked as she left, clearly amused by Ayla’s pale, anxious face.

Once the attic door shut, Ayla was left to her spiraling thoughts.

No. It can’t be that. If he had caught me sneaking into his room, it wouldn’t have ended so lightly. The whole place would be in chaos.

Then what was it? Why had Byron suddenly fallen into such a foul mood?

To find the cause, she had to think carefully.

The first question: was this something that originally happened in her past life? Or was it an unexpected change brought about by her actions since coming back?

Think carefully, Ayla Weissenhafen.

She urged herself to recall.

That name—Ayla Weissenhafen—had been unfamiliar to her until recently, yet now it rolled off her tongue as naturally as if it had always been hers.

After sifting through her memories for a while, she reached a conclusion: This didn’t happen before.

She wasn’t entirely certain, but back when she had lived in this attic, her days had been filled with small joys—beautiful scenery, rare special lessons. Those times had been precious to her.

If she had been forced to eat alone instead of sharing meals with her beloved father, she would have remembered it clearly.

Then what caused it?

Ayla smeared ointment thickly over her finger wound, wincing at the sting. But the sharper pain came from not knowing what had triggered this sudden shift.

Once she finished bandaging her hand, she carefully reviewed the day.

It had begun no differently than usual. She had risen at dawn and gone for a run outside the ruins.

Wait—that’s right. This morning, Cloud…

As she tried to spot the oddity, a peculiar scene from earlier resurfaced in her mind.

A strange bird, unlike any she usually saw, had flown in. Cloud had caught it.

She had only glimpsed it from a distance, but soon after, Cloud’s face had turned pale, and he had rushed back inside the building.

Could Byron’s foul mood be related to that bird?

If that bird had carried a letter with bad news, and Byron had heard it from Cloud before shutting himself away in his room—

…Then, there’s only one thing I must do tonight.

She had to find out what message that strange bird had brought.