Chapter 9
I had a dream.
In the dream, I was forging a sword.
I had just begun the stage of shaping the heated steel.
I was working in front of the blazing furnace, and the flames, so hot they turned from red to white, scorched the left side of my face.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
With each strike of my hammer, the glowing steel shortened, lengthened, thickened, and stretched again and again.
“Don’t forget, Diana.”
My father’s voice rang in my ears.
Despite the loud clamor of forging all around, his voice cut through the noise and reached me clearly.
“You must be careful when dealing with fire and steel.”
Even so, I ignored my father’s words.
Mesmerized by the fact that I was creating my first real sword, I was completely absorbed in the glowing steel before me, like someone whose soul had left their body.
“Never forget that what you’re forging is a sharp sword. That sword is born to tear through human flesh.”
Yes. At the time, I had no idea what it truly meant for a sword to tear through human flesh.
I was simply amazed that this burning hot metal, hot enough to sear my flesh, was taking shape in my hands. And above all―
“You too, Leon.”
I wanted to beat the other apprentice, the boy working beside me under my father.
Boy? He was already nineteen at the time, so perhaps he wasn’t exactly a “boy.”
He wielded a hammer with arms twice the size of mine, and he shaped swords effortlessly with swift, precise blows.
I had lived with him since the time his build still seemed smaller than mine.
Leon Kowalski.
Even that name was given to him by my father.
Eventually, Leon Kowalski would vanish into ash along with the village that burned down.
But back in those days, when I had no idea what fate awaited us, I envied how quickly he could forge a sword.
My father was a master whose skill I could never hope to match, but Leon was someone who had learned the craft alongside me.
I was determined to surpass him and was often scolded by my father for that very reason.
A blacksmith, he said, should not forge with the intent to outdo someone.
Even so, that day, I still wanted to beat Leon.
But with my slower, weaker hammering, the metal cooled before I could shape it.
I had to reheat the steel in the furnace.
While my father was checking on another forge, Leon spoke up.
“You’re overheating it.”
“……”
I only glared at him.
Leon, who had grown at least a hand taller than me, sighed.
“Listen. If you heat it too much, the steel becomes brittle.”
“Mind your own business, idiot.”
I cursed at him and continued heating the steel longer than my father had instructed.
Leon forgot about forging his own sword and began watching mine intently. I pulled out the heated steel, placed it on the anvil, and started hammering.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
The steel screamed.
I gritted my teeth and struck it harder and harder.
My father had always said that brute force alone was meaningless in forging, but I didn’t care.
I just wanted to defeat Leon and earn my father’s approval.
And finally, when I struck hard at the end of the anvil—
The steel snapped.
A sharp piece flew toward me.
Someone grabbed me and rolled us to the side.
Metal dust settled all over our bodies.
Leon, who had shielded me, had a thin cut beneath his eye.
Then my father’s voice echoed in my ears.
“A sword forged in anger cannot surpass me.”
But when I listened again, it wasn’t my father’s voice.
It was Gram’s.
When I opened my eyes, there was an unfamiliar ceiling above me.
A clean, orderly room free of the metallic dust that usually left a tang in the mouth.
I realized I was in Wilhelm Castle.
That meant Armin Wilhelm had decided to save me.
“He must’ve sent someone to get the antidote.”
Agreeing to drink the poison alongside Armin had been a gamble.
Armin Wilhelm had built a resistance to many poisons since childhood. Even if he drank a whole glass of poisoned wine, he wouldn’t die.
Even after collapsing, he hadn’t taken an antidote.
But Diana Isla’s body—my current body—was different.
This body had no resistance to poison and couldn’t even lift a sword with both hands. It was as fragile as paper.
Just a small dose of Ophir poison could be fatal.
Only Armin Wilhelm knew this. So unless he decided to save me before succumbing to the poison himself, I would’ve died.
But he chose to save me.
The man who once vowed to die—the man who, in Diana Isla’s memories, stubbornly refused the antidote to the end—had brought one to me this time.
And here I was, breathing.
I had somewhat expected this.
No―to be honest, I was sure.
Because I had seen it.
In Diana Isla’s memories—the look in Armin Wilhelm’s eyes as he held my Gram.
That searing fire.
Once a fire like that ignites in someone’s heart, it’s not easily extinguished.
Just like me.
So when I told him I had the Marquis of Isla’s secrets, when I told him to use me, Armin must’ve felt the flames he thought were gone reigniting.
Proof of that? I’m alive.
The drunkard who claimed he wanted to die, in truth, wanted to live more than anyone.
I slowly sat up.
My body felt heavy, but not particularly painful.
“You’re awake.”
It was then that a low voice spoke.
As I stirred, I noticed a woman sitting against the wall on one side of the massive room.
She was positioned near the window, light behind her, casting her face in shadow.
In that shadow, her violet eyes glimmered.
Dark circles hung beneath them—she looked tired.
The woman approached.
“The physician said you should’ve awakened yesterday. We were worried since you remained unconscious.”
She pulled a cord by my bed.
A maid entered, and she instructed her to summon the physician.
Her movements were so smooth and precise that I couldn’t even interject.
“Are you alright?”
“……”
“Of course, you’re not. The physician will assess you. Your Highness.”
I didn’t answer.
But I already knew her name.
Still, she introduced herself flawlessly.
“My apologies. I should have introduced myself sooner. My name is Hannah Vlad, and I’ve been assigned as your personal maid. Before the doctor arrives, I have a few things to confirm. Will that be alright?”
Hannah Vlad.
How could I not know that name?
She was the woman Diana Isla hated most in this castle—second only to Armin.
So much so that just hearing her name made Diana tremble.
“That creepy stare. That expressionless face no matter what I say. That emotionless tone—I hate it all.”
“I will make note of it.”
Their interactions were always like that.
In her past life, Hannah Vlad had also been assigned as Diana Isla’s maid.
“So it’s the same in this life too.”
“Ask whatever you need.”
“You’re… not offended? That’s unexpected.”
Her expression barely changed, despite claiming surprise.
Very much the Hannah Vlad I knew.
“Someone poisoned the Grand Duke’s cup. I don’t have the luxury to be offended by trivial things right now.”
A subtle shift crossed Hannah’s face.
“You truly… knew the cup was poisoned? That… you…”
She trailed off in disbelief.
She must’ve heard that I knew the drink was poisoned.
And that source was likely—
“Armin Wilhelm, of course.”
“You mean… you knowingly drank it?”
“…Yes.”
But “drank” wasn’t quite right.
I hadn’t really drunk it. I had just licked the poison from his lips.
As I recalled it, my body instinctively tensed.
That deadly kiss.
So solemn, like a blade slicing flesh.
That was my first kiss.
“I knew.”
“Then… why didn’t you warn His Highness? You didn’t have to drink it…”
“He wouldn’t have believed me.”
I looked at Hannah with cold eyes.
She clearly didn’t know that Armin Wilhelm had also knowingly drank the poison.
His longing for death must be an old secret of his.
And I had decided to protect that secret.
Even if I told her, she wouldn’t believe it anyway.
“I’m the daughter of Marquis Isla, and Walter’s lover. Isn’t that right?”
“……”
At the mention of Walter, Hannah avoided my gaze.
She actually looked troubled—a rare sight.
She smoothed her dress, then raised her head again.
“Then you really obtained that information from Walter?”
“To be precise… I overheard it. I used to follow my father to the Imperial Palace. Back then―”
Even after Diana’s marriage to Armin was arranged, the Marquis of Isla often took her to the palace.
Part of it was a wicked plan to make her the emperor’s mistress. But it was also to use her as a shield while negotiating secret deals with the emperor.
The two men discussed dangerous matters with Diana in the adjacent room.
She would listen through the fireplace, or through the walls—through stones that carried their whispered voices.
She didn’t eavesdrop to use the secrets politically, but because she hoped to hear Walter say something romantic about her.
“I overheard Walter planted someone inside Wilhelm Castle. I also caught something about the Ophir poison.”
I didn’t say Walter “planted” a spy—rather, he had someone else plant one.
The reason was simple.
Walter hadn’t done it himself.
He’d used the Marquis of Rochen—a noble family familiar with the inner workings of Wilhelm Castle due to close ties, and who, being from a foreign land, would avoid suspicion.
But this fact would only come to light much later.
Currently, the Wilhelm family was on good terms with House Rochen.
No one would want to suspect them based solely on my word.
Which means—the truth about Rochen must be revealed alongside solid evidence.
