Chapter 2: I Possessed the Villain’s Daughter
No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t find an answer. I had breezed through the novel without much thought, so there was no way I’d remember all the intricate details.
My heart felt heavy.
If only I knew more about the future. All I could do was helplessly tug at the blanket.
“Everyone, I’m tired, so please leave the room.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Once the maids had all filed out, I was left alone in the spacious room. The silence in the vast room, as large as a sports field, was deafening.
I climbed down from the bed.
Approaching the vanity decorated with gold and jewels, I looked into the mirror. Staring back at me was “Lyla.” Her bright green eyes sparkled with life, like a forest in spring, and her silvery hair was smooth as strands of silk. But there was a problem.
“…I’m so fat?”
Though her features were well-defined even under the chubby cheeks, she’d clearly be far prettier if she lost some weight. Perhaps she had been overly pampered by her family. Unlike her tall and slim relatives, Lyla was short and plump.
I tugged at my cheeks, pinched them, and puffed them up. The soft skin clung to my fingers like sticky rice cakes.
Even though it was my body, it felt strangely unfamiliar—like I was touching someone else. Humans are adaptable, sure, but could I really get used to this body? I let out a sigh.
No, first things first—I just need to try and adapt.
One step at a time. Eventually, things would start to make sense. I stared long and hard at the reflection in the mirror, then crawled back under the covers.
The moon visible outside the window shone brightly.
At least the moon in this world looked the same as the one in Korea—that gave me a small sense of relief. As I closed my eyes, the accumulated fatigue quickly pulled me into sleep.
“How is Lyla’s condition?”
The 8th head of the esteemed House of Rosahil. The famed Minister of Education. The Cold-Blooded Duke. A contractor of spirits.
If there were ever someone beloved by the gods, it would be him.
The wealth, power, and talent he was born with—he held it all in his hands. This nation’s greatest noble, Esat Rosahil, coldly questioned the physician before him.
The physician bowed his head deeply in the duke’s office. Though he was a seasoned doctor who had seen much in life, Esat’s sheer presence was overwhelming. The physician recalled the scene from just a while ago.
Lyla Rosahil. A beautiful girl with silver hair and green eyes. Still small and chubby due to her youth, but without a doubt, she would become as breathtaking as the former duchess when she matured and lost the baby fat.
Whenever the cold-blooded duke looked at his daughter, he transformed into a completely different person.
The frigid gaze, so devoid of love for the world, would soften with warmth and tenderness—as if gazing at the most lovable thing in the world, or cradling a delicate baby bird.
Lyla herself seemed to take the duke’s attitude as natural, but the physician had been on the verge of fainting from shock the first time he witnessed it.
There wasn’t a single person in this country who hadn’t heard of the infamous Cold-Blooded Duke. Known for his arrogance and lack of empathy, he was called a misanthrope. As the head of the family, he was almost flawless in his duties, but showed zero mercy toward incompetence regardless of status. Though some had murmured that he was kind to his family, no one had imagined he’d dote on his youngest daughter to this extent.
The physician opened his reluctant lips and replied carefully.
“My lady needs complete rest. Please restrict her outdoor activities as much as possible and administer supplements to restore her weakened body. Also, be cautious that she doesn’t experience any stress.”
“And aside from that?”
“To help recover her memory, have her continue doing her usual activities. Take it slow, but remain consistent.”
“I see…”
Esat brushed back his watery silver hair. His looks were so youthful that it was hard to believe he was in his forties. It was no wonder that women in high society fought over him whenever he appeared at gatherings.
He fell deep in thought.
His daughter Lyla had always been quiet and composed since she was little. She loved books and preferred staying indoors to going outside. She had barely made her debut in society because of that. Perhaps due to her lack of emotional expression, many believed she had inherited his cold and distant nature. But Esat thought differently.
She’s Erbella’s daughter.
His late wife, who was lively and kind-hearted—Lyla was her spitting image. How could someone like that be cold or unfeeling? She had merely become awkward at expressing emotions due to certain events. She wore a hard exterior to hide her soft heart, but he knew better than anyone how gentle and warm she truly was.
“Provide Lyla with the best medical care possible. No matter the cost.”
“Yes, understood.”
With a wave of his hand, Esat dismissed the physician.
The news that his precious, delicate daughter had suddenly collapsed had hit him like the sky falling. From birth, she had always been fragile, so he had protected her with great care, worried she might break or disappear.
Though the physician had reassured him that it wasn’t serious, the child had woken up with a diagnosis of amnesia. How startled he had been!
Even now, his heart ached remembering her unfamiliar green eyes staring at him with confusion.
What troubled him most was the last thing Lyla had said before collapsing:
“I’m sorry.”
What had she meant by that?
Still puzzled, Esat left his study and began walking slowly. Night had already fallen, but he wanted to see Lyla. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without checking on her with his own eyes.
As he arrived at her room, a maid passing by looked at him in surprise. He motioned for her to keep quiet, then slowly opened the door.
Inside the dark room, Lyla was sleeping soundly on the large bed.
Only then did Esat feel a slight sense of relief. A calm peace spread through his heart.
He gazed at her for a long time. He didn’t dare go closer for fear of waking her.
Tomorrow, as the physician advised, he would take her around the house. Maybe that would help spark her memories.
But what if she never regained them?
Even if that’s the case…
Esat felt it wouldn’t be so bad. He knew Lyla’s childhood hadn’t been entirely happy. Maybe forgetting those painful memories was a blessing in disguise.
No matter what shape her mind took, whether she remembered or not—even if she looked at him like a stranger—it didn’t matter.
Because she was his beloved daughter.
That fact would never change.
With a bittersweet smile, Esat quietly closed the door.
The next morning.
Though it was still early, the duke personally came to take me out for a walk in the garden. The morning dew still clung to the rose garden. I recalled the physician’s words about avoiding outings, but I guessed a short stroll was fine. The duke walked slowly to match my pace and tried to show me as much as he could.
I acted indifferent, but inside, I couldn’t stop admiring everything.
The lush, endless gardens were filled with beautiful white marble statues and priceless works of art. Every tree branch was neatly trimmed. The roses carried a soft, pleasant fragrance, and the marble fountain sparkled in the sunlight as water trickled down.
That wasn’t all. The mansion itself was so grand I couldn’t even see the roof without tilting my head all the way back. Even the stables, meant only for horses, were elegant, housing dozens of well-fed, glossy-coated horses.
It was impressive from the outside, but the inside was even more luxurious.
Every time we turned a corner, maids and attendants with white headpieces and aprons bowed with perfect posture. I didn’t know how to react, but the duke took it in stride. Whenever he explained something to me, he did so kindly and with full attention.
However, as we turned the next corner, even the mighty duke couldn’t hide the slight stiffening of his expression.
A man wearing glasses approached and bowed abruptly.
“Yuren.”
“Your Grace!”
He spoke with the urgency of a historical drama minister pleading for justice.
“Please forgive the intrusion, but the paperwork from two days ago has piled up!”
The duke gave him a look that said, “This mutt’s barking again.” But the man—Yuren—stood firm. He called over a passing attendant, who dared not lift his head.
“Bring the second young master. I heard he’s taking the day off.”
“Yes, sir.”
The attendant rushed off and soon returned, practically flying back with the second son. Though he tried to keep a calm face, he was clearly out of breath. Beside him stood the second young master, eyes sparkling as he looked at me and the duke.
His expression was unmistakable.
Like a golden retriever waiting for praise.
“Your Grace! Please sign the documents!”
The duke sighed briefly and whispered to the second son.
“…Take care of it.”
“Yes! Leave it to me!”
I tilted my head watching the two of them whisper. What were they talking about in such secrecy? Before I could figure it out, the second son turned to me.
Right—his name was Light.
He grinned brightly, like the sun itself. With his blond hair and green eyes, he looked every bit the cheerful prince.
As I stared up at him, he smiled and said:
“Today, you’re hanging out with your big brother!”
“…With you?”
“Eeeek!”
Apparently, he still hadn’t built up immunity to the sweetness of the word “oppa.” I gave him a lukewarm look. Was that word really that precious?
Still, he grabbed my hand and led me away at a quick pace.
The first place he showed me was—
(To be continued…)
