Chapter 11
Bang! Crackle!
The Duke of Dain tore through the barrier in an instant and rushed toward the door.
When he struck it the first time, only one thought filled his mind:
“If I hurry, I can still save her.”
But even after the second, third strike, the tightly shut door refused to yield, and despair set in.
Then, a flood of thoughts came crashing in all at once.
“I asked her. She knew the ring was missing.”
Then why?
Why would she lie—and walk into that place on her own?
As he retraced the child’s shameless actions in his mind, the Duke suddenly recalled his own childhood.
When he was the same age—five—he had accidentally discovered that his parents were impostors.
But unlike that deceitful child’s con-artist parents, his fake parents had always been gentle and devoted.
They were kidnappers, yes, but after years of raising the boy, they had grown to love him.
So he could never return to his real family.
To sever the bond of parent and child they’d formed was impossible—and the penalty for kidnapping a duke’s heir was execution.
So he forgot about his secret birth and, upon reaching adulthood, left to live freely as a mercenary.
He wandered across the continent and eventually met a woman he loved, with whom he married and lived an ordinary life.
But perhaps confessing that truth to her had been the beginning of the end.
His wife, driven by a fierce sense of justice, urged him to return and protect his biological mother after the former duke’s death.
Since the moment he fell in love with her, his sense of right and wrong had always followed hers—so he obeyed without a thought.
He had no will of his own.
And that… was why it happened.
It was the first time he ever used someone.
And that someone was a five-year-old child.
He knew that his righteous brother-in-law—his wife’s younger brother—could never stand to stay if that innocent child was made to do something unworthy.
It was his way of setting the man free—to make him leave this mansion and live his own life—since his own irresponsibility had already cost him his wife and child.
But that wish had spiraled into a storm he could never have imagined.
That ridiculous “contract” about turning the child into a wicked lady had led to her death.
He shut his eyes tight.
“The punishment was meant for me.”
He loathed himself.
He could still see her waving goodbye, that lonely little smile—and it was enough to drive him mad.
Bang! Crack!
With a final, desperate blow, a crack finally split across the door.
The knights guarding their ancestors’ legacy rushed in to stop him.
“Your Grace! If you continue, the door will shatter! It’ll open soon anyway—please stop…!”
“Anyone who stands in my way will die.”
For the first time, the dullness in his eyes flashed with a deadly light.
Whoooosh!
The moment the door shut, I puffed up my cheeks like a frog, holding my breath as best I could.
I had abandoned the entire ritual of laying flowers on the five tombs.
“Forget the ceremony! It only lasts three minutes anyway! I’ll do it later—later!”
I prayed for the door to open soon, struggling to steady my nerves.
“I can do this. I can do this…”
But of course, when desperation peaks, disaster always follows.
Holding my breath had pressed on my stomach—and the rose-flavored macaron I’d had as my “last supper” threatened to come back up as a burp.
“Wait, no! My cheeks are already full—there’s no room!”
“Mmph! Mmmph… Ugh! Guhhhh… Pffft! Phaaah!”
Phaaah!
Haaah! Haaah… Haaa…
The sound echoed emptily through the tall stone ceiling of the tomb.
“…”
Damn it!
All that precious breath—gone in one shot! Right after I came in!
I’d come here armed with the spirit of noble self-sacrifice—only for this!
I collapsed to the ground, tears of pure frustration welling up.
“Ugh, hic! My last breath… wasted on a stupid macaron burp…! How could this happen—wait, huh?”
The sweet rose scent faded from my nose, and then—suddenly—I realized something.
Hoo, haa… hoo, haa…
“What the? I—I can breathe?”
No matter how much I flared my nostrils or filled my lungs, all I drew in was fresh air.
Relief washed over me—quickly followed by suspicion.
Looking around, I saw a great stone coffin engraved with a silver lion totem, surrounded by five white gravestones, each bearing a name.
The chrysanthemums I’d placed there a year ago were withered to dust—proof that this was indeed the resting place of Eberhardt’s five most distinguished ancestors.
But something was wrong.
For everything to be this clear, my lantern should have been far brighter.
Yet the lantern’s light was pointless now—because the domed tomb was already flooded with a cold, blue glow.
“…Blue light? Maybe it’s a spell that activates when someone enters? No… then why give me a lantern?”
The blue flames on the wall-torches gave off no warmth—only a chill, like ghostly lights guiding the dead to the afterlife.
“…Not fire, then. Magic, maybe? Whatever—it doesn’t matter. The real question is, why can I breathe in here at all?”
This tomb was supposed to kill anyone who wasn’t of Eberhardt blood.
Which meant Pascal, the chair of the council, must have sent me and the Duke here to die.
If so, there could be only one explanation left.
My birth.
Back then, learning my parents were impostors had been such a shock that I’d never once thought about who I really was.
But now—I couldn’t avoid it.
The Duke’s silver hair, the Duchess’s golden eyes—just like mine.
Granted, my eyes had changed after I turned back time… but what if that change was a sign? A divine hint of who I truly was?
An outrageous, forbidden thought began hammering in my chest.
Thump, thump, thump.
“…Could it be… I’m really the Duke’s daughter?”
That was when it happened.
Bang!
Before I could finish the thought, the ground began to shake, and cracks split across the ceiling.
Bang! Bang!
The noise came from the entrance—someone was forcing the door open.
Amid the deafening blows, I thought I heard a voice echo faintly in my head:
[Who… who dares…!]
I nearly answered—but then the door burst open, and I was struck speechless.
“Haa… haa…”
It was the Duke of Dain.
From beneath his feet, a single warm beam of light stretched toward me.
He was drenched in sweat, and I could already guess what had happened.
“He must’ve noticed the missing ring.”
He’d come to save me—again.
He staggered closer and dropped to one knee before me.
The man standing before me was not the composed figure I’d always known.
His usually expressionless face was contorted; his long silver hair hung in disarray.
Without even catching his breath, he spoke.
“…How—haa—how are you still breathing?”
“…”
Tears welled up.
Even he, the rightful heir of Eberhardt, was struggling to breathe—proof that the air here was truly thin.
Which meant there was only one reason I was fine.
My real family.
My father.
“Hhic… D-Dad. It’s me. I’m your daughter…!”
“Impossible.”
Eh?
The denial was so flat, so absolute, that my tears vanished instantly.
His eyes trembled with a mix of emotions—but the firmness of his answer meant there was a reason.
An awful, awkward silence followed.
Don’t tell me…
He glanced toward the entrance, aware of the knights and attendants standing there, and muttered quietly:
“My child… is a son.”
“!”
I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.
All I could do was wipe my tears—and pretend the motion was just to dry off sweat.
It’s really hot in here, okay? Really hot.
For real? 😲