It’s far easier to find stories of hostile siblings than loving ones throughout history.
Fights over the throne among royal brothers were common enough not to warrant surprise.
Such was the case with Quillian and Theodore, and the same applied to Theodore’s sons—they had no reason to like the princess.
Even aside from the prophecy, Princess Seraphina was a political obstacle.
“Well, what do we have here? Running into the princess in a place like this.”
One of the twins sauntered up with a sneer. Seraphina looked up at Morgan, who towered over her.
Morgan and Philip flanked the princess, smirking.
Seraphina had been tormented by them long before Queen Lucia’s death.
Back then, she’d been so desperate to be loved that she endured every bit of bullying in silence.
‘Even after Mother passed away and my attitude changed… the twins stayed the same.’
As Seraphina spiraled into her so-called delinquency, the twins continued their harassment—steadily, and persistently.
It began with hiding her belongings and escalated in severity.
And they never forgot to warn her to stay quiet.
[If you tell the grown-ups, we’ll punish you worse.]
She may have been a troublemaker, but Seraphina was still just a ten-year-old girl.
At that age, cousins her own age were far more terrifying than elderly court officials or her indulgent father.
The idea of telling her father never even crossed her mind.
What if, by some chance, it made the bullying even worse?
It might seem like a foolish choice, but for a child, it was rational.
Once the twins realized Seraphina wouldn’t resist, their torment only grew more cunning and vicious.
While others feared the “Prophesied Princess” and the “Demon Princess,” the twins saw her as nothing more than a convenient toy.
And since everyone already thought the princess was wicked, framing her was easy.
“Looking for a book or something?”
Morgan crossed his arms and spoke mockingly. Despite his tone, Seraphina replied plainly.
“Yeah. I want to read.”
“You’re not planning to rip the books apart again?”
Seraphina merely blinked. Today, she didn’t seem frightened for once, but the twins didn’t think much of it.
“I won’t tear them. I’m going to read.”
“Really?”
Philip shrugged, then pulled a book from the shelf. With a loud rip, the pages tore.
The book was ruthlessly shredded in his hands.
When hundreds of pages lay scattered on the floor, Philip tossed the spine like a carcass onto the ground and said,
“Oh dear, Princess! So you lied again about studying!”
Instead of physically harming her, the twins delighted in these indirect torments.
They’d sneak into rooms filled with relics and shatter everything, then blame it on the princess.
Seraphina, back then, would cry out in frustration:
[No! It wasn’t me! I didn’t do it!]
But no one believed her. After all, she’d caused plenty of chaos already.
Even if no one said it aloud, their eyes said everything:
[Lying again? Honestly, Princess…]
[Just as the prophecy foretold—turning into a villainess, into the Demon King…]
Seeing those eyes filled Seraphina with fury, and she would retaliate—smashing relics herself or kicking servants in the shin.
And so, her reputation grew worse—exactly as the twins had intended.
“Princess? Say something, won’t you?”
As she remained silent, one of the twins gave her shoulder a shove—mocking and provoking.
Seraphina glanced down at the scattered pages, then looked up at them.
Philip’s brow furrowed at the look in her eyes.
‘What’s with that face? She’s… calm?’
Normally she’d be trembling in fear, but today… she was strangely composed.
Seraphina looked directly at Philip and spoke, her tone calm and deliberate.
“I didn’t tear that book. You did.”
“…Why are you acting like this today?”
Philip was taken aback by her unexpected composure but didn’t back down. He growled under his breath.
“Does it matter who tore it? People will still think it was you.”
“That book.”
She pointed to where Philip had taken the book from. The twins looked confused.
“That spot is out of my reach. And there’s no ladder nearby. Don’t you think it’s odd to claim I pulled it down and tore it?”
The boys, both around fifteen and tall, were at least two heads taller than Seraphina. The book they’d grabbed was naturally beyond her reach.
Philip’s face flushed red, then quickly paled. In a panic, he pulled a book from the lower shelf and shoved it into the empty spot.
“There! Problem solved!”
“The librarians keep a record of all book placements. Moving it won’t change a thing.”
“…!”
His face drained of color. Rage flitted across his features as he grabbed Seraphina’s arm and yanked her forward.
“Why you little…! It doesn’t matter what you say—no one believes you anyway!”
They both clung tightly to her arm, voices rising in anger.
They’d framed her dozens of times before, never once getting caught.
And their father stood behind them, too. This time was no different—they’d come after being told to go “play” with the princess.
‘Damn it. Why is she so calm today?’
Normally, she’d be crying or running away. But today, she was eerily still.
It might’ve looked like Seraphina was cornered—but the real danger lay with the twins.
She simply blinked her large eyes at them, silent.
Once, this threat would’ve shaken young Seraphina to the core.
But now? It was no more than a childish prank.
It wasn’t even enough to make her angry—it wasn’t much different from what she’d done to others.
Still, she couldn’t just let it slide. So what should she do?
The ideal would be to teach the children what they did wrong and help them change.
But Seraphina didn’t know how to do that.
She knew only one way to stop troublemakers.
Kill them.
Teaching was tiresome and slow. Violence was swift and simple.
With her magic, it would be over in the blink of an eye.
Their grip, their annoying voices—they’d vanish instantly.
But she didn’t want to do that. Killing them would draw suspicion, yes—but more importantly…
‘I don’t want to hurt people just because I feel like it anymore.’
In her past life, she always chose the easiest way.
Anyone who dared rebuke her—killed. Anyone who annoyed her—killed. Killed. Killed…
She didn’t want to live like that again. Even if it took time, she wanted to walk the right path.
“Hey! What, cat got your tongue?”
Pain flared on her scalp.
Morgan had yanked her hair roughly.
The searing pain twisted her expression. The twins laughed.
“Whoa, look at that face! Are you mad now?”
“Careful! You might make the Demon Princess angry—”
Suddenly, the twins felt it. A strange sensation.
A chill climbed their throats. Their tongues felt numb.
Seraphina felt it too—her magic was stirring inside her.
The seed of the Demon King.
[Did you hurt Sera?]
The seed perceived the physical assault as a threat.
It surged with killing intent.
Seraphina panicked.
‘That wasn’t an attack! Calm down! I can’t kill someone over this…!’
She had to stop it.
As she struggled to suppress the rising force, one thought bloomed in the darkness:
…Still, a little payback wouldn’t hurt, right?
Not killing—just threatening. Maybe break the wrist gripping her hair.
No, too loud. Then what? Make them mute? No, too suspicious.
What if I collapse the shelf? They’ll break an arm or a leg. But would that even stop them?
Ugh. Maybe I should just crush them—
“What… what is this…?”
Philip flinched and let go, stepping back.
He didn’t know why—his body just reacted.
Seraphina stood completely still. But in her red eyes swirled something dark and unknowable.
A pressure that defied reason. A murderous aura.
Even the twins recoiled unconsciously.
‘Am I… scared?’
He had to admit it. He was afraid.
She hadn’t moved or spoken—but the pressure she radiated was overwhelming.
While Seraphina froze, fighting the urge to lash out, Philip stepped back instinctively—then, angered by his fear, lunged again.
“Y-You insolent little—!”
Terrified, his hand flew up on its own.
They had avoided direct violence until now to leave no evidence—but his fear had overridden his judgment.
As his hand flew toward Seraphina’s cheek—
“Argh…!”
Philip cried out in pain.
A sharp agony shot through his shoulder.
It wasn’t Seraphina.
Someone was standing behind him.
Black hair identical to Quillian’s. Golden eyes gleaming from beneath a short, precise cut.
A boy around the same age as the twins gripped Philip’s arm and twisted it back.
He spoke in a cold voice.
“What are you doing to the princess?”
Seraphina’s one and only brother—
Johann del Rhod Asteria had appeared behind them.
