The Decarde Empire, blessed by spirits, has two main bloodlines.
One is the royal family, the Decarde family. The other is my family, the Diolos Duke family.
Spiritmages are only born from these two families, and the proof of this is the golden eyes.
Naturally, both the royal family and the Diolos family members are born with golden eyes. When these golden-eyed individuals turn 15, they can make a contract with a spirit. It’s a rite of passage for everyone born into these bloodlines.
“Quite the immense power, right? A symbol of absolute power.”
Spiritmages wield all sorts of incredible powers, or what people often mistake as ‘superpowers,’ and have ruled as powerful figures throughout history.
For this reason, the royal family of the Decarde Empire has always valued producing as many spiritmages as possible. It’s essential for strengthening their hold on power.
In other words,
“Have as many children as you can!”
This essentially means that the Decarde Empire is an extremely messy family.
Emperor Decarde XI has seven wives, but here’s the shocking part: Compared to past emperors, he’s considered modest.
“Decarde V had thirty-two wives, after all…”
Quite incredible, right?
The problem, however, is that there is only one throne, but dozens of children eligible to sit on it.
There have always been people in the royal family who would kill their own siblings to claim the throne, and right now, Prince Nathan von Rashmach Decarde, the second prince, is one of those individuals.
“Let’s see, the crown prince died around the time of Rubet’s sixteenth birthday…”
Less than a year left.
“Time’s running out.”
I looked at Wishit’s handsome face, unsure whether I should get involved in the crown prince’s fate.
It was hard to ignore such a good-looking face…
“Miss, the tailor has arrived.”
“Oh, come in.”
Just then, Rebecca’s voice came, and I eagerly stood up.
When the door opened, a slightly awkward-looking girl entered.
Her name was Becky.
“You’re here?”
“Yes, Miss. How have you been?”
She wore thick glasses and old clothes, and she was the tailor who had made dresses for Rubet during her growing years, back when her body was changing fast. She was a humble, loyal seamstress. Her design sense was a bit lacking, but her sewing skills were incredible.
“So, why did you call me today? You’ve made me a new dress not too long ago…”
“Oh, it’s not for a new dress today. Sit down here.”
I motioned for her to sit and as we faced each other, Becky seemed puzzled by my unexpected summons.
“I have a lot to talk about today.”
I smiled at the tailor, who would soon gain fame for being lucky enough to ride the wave of success.
Days passed, quickly, and I adapted to Rubet’s life.
Honestly, there wasn’t much adaptation needed. Since I had absorbed all of Rubet’s 45 years of memories and feelings, it felt like I had become Rubet herself.
But there was something different about me compared to the old Rubet.
“Good work today, Miss. The morning air was nice, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, Rebecca. It made me want to run.”
I had been keeping up with an exercise routine for four days straight, something the old Rubet couldn’t even do for one day.
“Wait, you’ve been exercising every day? What’s going on?”
“You didn’t hear? She almost drowned in the pond four days ago and since then, she’s changed. I heard she even slapped Lord Ricky.”
I was no longer the person who shut herself in her room and ate junk food all day. I was a completely different person now.
“And what’s with your close relationship with the Duke? I heard you were behind the dismissal of the housekeeper…?”
“Shh, don’t talk about it. Let’s stay quiet.”
I had even been eating with my father, something I had never done before.
“…”
I looked up and saw my father staring at me from across the room.
“What’s up?”
I asked as I was sketching a dress and eating oatmeal at the same time.
“What’s that you’re drawing?”
“I’m drawing a picture.”
“What kind of picture?”
“Why do you care? You don’t need to pay attention to me.”
“…”
When I snapped back at him, my father closed his mouth, clearly unhappy.
Two meals a day—breakfast and lunch—had been spent with him for four days now. This was my emergency plan to get him back on track and make sure he wasn’t indulging in alcohol or cigarettes.
He sighed and asked with a grumpy face.
“So, you’re saying that you won’t pay attention to me, but you keep coming to eat with me?”
“Hmm, it’s not that I don’t need your attention. I just don’t need your concern. Just finish your meal.”
I quickly answered and returned to sketching.
My father, still watching me, sighed and continued eating with a sour expression.
“…?”
Just then, I noticed something strange. My father’s hand was moving toward the wine glass filled with white wine.
“Tsk!”
“…”
I jerked my head up in alarm, and my father froze.
I knocked on the table, and a maid quickly rushed over.
“Yes, Miss?”
“What’s this? I told you no alcohol yesterday, didn’t I?”
“Oh, it was a mistake from the kitchen. I’ll take it away right away.”
The maid, now fully aware of the rules, immediately took the wine glass away without even waiting for my father’s permission.
It seemed like she had learned the hard way that when it came to meals, what I said went.
After the maid left with the glass, my father frowned.
“How long do I have to stop drinking? It’s not even strong liquor, just a glass of wine. Can’t I have one?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always suspected something wasn’t right, but I’m still a little puzzled.”
We had consulted a doctor about his condition, worried that he might have been influenced by Mogla. We even brought in another physician, and they confirmed he was in excellent health.
‘He’s been drinking and smoking for over ten years and was supposed to be dead in three years. If he’s truly healthy now, something’s off…’
When I thought about it, I started to feel uneasy. Could it be that alcohol and cigarettes weren’t the problem?
Just as I was lost in thought, my father flicked his finger to snap me out of it.
“Just one glass…”
“No. You can’t. I’m watching you.”
“…”
He looked at me with frustration but gave up and went back to his meal.
I finished my oatmeal and started reading the magazine I had brought along while I waited for him to finish.
“…Are you sure that’s all you’re eating?”
My father spoke up after seeing me finish my meal.
He slid a plate with juicy, seasoned meat toward me.
“Eat more. Even a mouse would eat more than this.”
“I’m full. Why are you suddenly so concerned? You know I only eat oatmeal in the morning.”
“How are you going to survive eating like that?”
Just then, the maid knocked on the door.
“Miss, Lady Mogla has just returned.”
…!
Mogla Diolos had returned. The return of the devil.
I had already run simulations in my head about how to handle meeting her, and while I wasn’t afraid of her, I wasn’t sure how I would fare.
“Ugh.”
I was startled by the unexpected situation.
The trauma engraved in this body wasn’t easy to shake off.
My heart started pounding uncontrollably.
“She’s back.”
“Why are you so vulgar and cheap?”
“You’re not fit for Diolos.”
“Your father and brothers are all ashamed of you.”
“Don’t you know? Everyone hates you.”
The memories of Mogla’s verbal abuse and mistreatment flooded back, and my body reacted before my mind could.
“Ugh, oh no…”
My hands began to tremble uncontrollably as the trauma overwhelmed me.
‘Damn. Was it really this bad?’
The suffocating feeling.
I struggled to breathe when suddenly a large shadow loomed over me.
‘…Dad?’
I didn’t have the strength to look up, but it didn’t matter. My father bent down to meet my eye level, his hand resting on my shoulder.
“Why are you like this?”
