YWPWYLFDM 33

Chapter 33

Time passed quickly.

After a brief stay in the city, life returned to wandering through forests and mountains, far from any human habitation.

Ayla, born in autumn, had already passed her birthday. No one had celebrated it for her.

Of course, if one counted the age from her previous life, her mental age would have been older, but physically, she was now thirteen.

“…Well done.”

Ayla stared intently at Cloud, who was praising her. His face was still something she couldn’t get used to. Especially the long scar running down the right side of his face.

It was strange because it hadn’t existed in his previous life. Among the changes made by her reversing time, it was the most visually noticeable one.

It was proof that time had truly been turned back, that something significant was changing.

“Miss?”

Ayla, lost in thought, only stared at him without responding. Cloud asked with a hint of curiosity.

“…Oh? Thank you for the praise.”

Only then did Ayla snap out of her reverie, blush slightly, and smile shyly. Recently, her growth had been extraordinary, so praise had become a common occurrence.

How foolish they both were—Cloud and Byron.

She had already reached the peak of skill they desired, yet she concealed it, making it seem as though her abilities were gradually improving. They were utterly unaware, celebrating every minor step as if it were significant.

Though she replied curtly, “Well done,” she knew exactly how surprised Cloud was by the speed of her progress. She had overheard several of his conversations with Byron.

“He truly is a genius,” he would say. Or, “a skill bestowed by heaven,” he would praise behind her back, yet pretended ignorance in her presence.

“Then, let’s call it a day for today, Miss.”

“…Already?”

Despite still having a good amount of training time left, Ayla blinked in surprise.

“Yes. The remaining time… is free time. You have the lord’s permission, so feel free to relax.”

Free time. Even with Byron’s approval, her mouth fell open in astonishment.

It was the first time in her life she had been granted such liberty, yet she had no idea what to do with it.

She knew someone would likely be watching, so she could never be truly free, but having time to herself was entirely unfamiliar.

‘What should I do?’

She thought carefully. If it were something she truly wanted, she might sneak into Byron’s room to eavesdrop on his conversations or gather information—but she couldn’t do that in broad daylight.

When she had access to the duke’s estate in her past life, she sometimes spent free moments reading books, yet here there were no books suitable for a child’s interest, except for grim texts on assassination.

“A walk… is that allowed?”

“As long as you don’t wander too far, yes.”

Cloud nodded at her question. The idea of moving freely around the fortress felt almost unreal.

Of course, she was not alone. Cloud assigned one of his subordinates to accompany her—whether for protection or surveillance, she wasn’t sure.

A sturdy knight followed quietly from a distance, yet strolling freely around the fortress felt strange.

It was a freedom she had never known in her past life.

Was it her skill that earned it? Had she been able to learn everything so swiftly in her previous life, would she have been granted free time then too?

‘…What’s the point of thinking about that now?’

Trying to push the intrusive thoughts aside, Ayla turned to the scenery. Autumn had fully set in, and it was beautiful.

The forest, full of deciduous trees, was painted yellow and red. Fields were dotted with unknown autumn flowers.

‘It’s beautiful, but…’

As autumn deepened, so did Ayla’s worries.

Winter was approaching.

‘When winter comes… what will I do?’

For several nights, she roamed freely, gathering information.

Her ability to hide while moving about was thanks to the lush leaves on the trees. Dark clothing helped her remain unseen at night.

But winter would change everything.

Leaves would fall, leaving bare trees that offered no cover.

Snow would make her dark clothing stand out. Outdoor gear in bright colors did not exist, and wearing only thin white pajamas in the harsh Pelles Empire winter would be unbearable.

Footprints were also a concern. No matter how silently she walked, snow would leave marks. If the snow covered them, she would still leave traces from moving through it.

‘…I can’t stop winter from coming.’

Even though she had returned to the past, she could not halt the passage of time.

She sighed, watching a red dragonfly flitting among pink cosmos flowers.

When Ayla returned to the fortress after her walk, something crashed in front of her. A silver goblet had fallen. Startled, she looked around and saw a broken window on the second floor.

‘That’s… Byron’s room?’

The noise did not stop. The sound of breaking and clattering continued.

What could be happening? Byron was known to act recklessly when angry, yet such outbursts were rare. Lately, however, they seemed more frequent.

Ayla moved away from the window, determined to find out why Byron was so furious tonight.

‘…How do I even deliver this news?’

Shortly after Ayla left for her walk, Cloud discovered an urgent letter. Reading it, he froze, troubled by the contents.

The message was difficult to deliver to Byron, now the crown prince.

Byron’s nephew, Winfred, had attempted to kill him and failed. Returning a few days later, Byron was expected to scold him harshly. Yet, he had been unusually kind to Cloud since then, never throwing objects or showing anger.

Moreover, Byron had been extremely pleased with Ayla’s recent achievements, seeming in better spirits than ever.

But delivering this news…

Cloud worried that Byron’s recent facial wound might reopen. The news was certain to provoke him.

‘But I can’t not tell him.’

It was a dilemma. If only someone else had received this message…

But only Cloud or Capella could handle such information.

‘Better me than my sister-in-law.’

With that resolve, Cloud reluctantly went to find Byron.

As he expected…

“…What did you say?”

Byron was furious.

“Lady Ayla… is… pregnant.”

Cloud shut his eyes tightly, bracing for the goblet Byron held to be hurled at him.

But instead of hitting him, it smashed the window outside.

Byron’s anger only escalated, sweeping items off the desk with his arm.

After venting his rage, he approached Cloud silently. When he extended his hand, Cloud understood he wanted the letter and placed it in his palm.

Byron read it, crumpled it, and threw it into the corner. Then, he motioned Cloud to leave.

Outside, Cloud exhaled in relief, realizing he had been holding his breath in tension.

‘…I’ll have to deliver this to others as well.’

Byron picked up a bottle of alcohol from his desk. His goblet had long since flown out the window, so he drank straight from the bottle.

But no amount of alcohol could extinguish the fire in his chest.

He had believed Ayla would be the first and last child; now, another child was on the way, and his anger was uncontrollable.

Unable to believe it, he reread the letter from the corner. Seeing nothing had changed, he tore it up and burned it in fury.

His mind knew the facts—Rodrick and Ophelia were officially married, and they had Ayla as a daughter—but his heart could not accept it.

Ophelia in another man’s arms… Rodrick, the betrayer… holding her… the child…

He could not accept it.

Byron threw the empty bottle against the stone wall, shattering it—the image reflecting his wounded heart.

“Ophelia… oh, my Ophelia… why… why!!!”

He collapsed onto the bed, screaming her name, though it could not reach her far away in Venator.

After writhing in torment, he sighed.

“And yet… I still love you, Ophelia.”

He confessed his unwavering love, even as she bore another man’s child.

The new child could die—it did not matter. He would make Ayla’s hand strike down Rodrick, even his own brother if necessary.

Then, he would have Ophelia all to himself.

Thinking of the beautiful Ophelia who would one day wear the empress’s crown, Byron finally sought sleep.