Chapter 5
The ghost stared blankly at Franz with an expressionless face.
She didn’t just resemble Priscilla from recent years—but Priscilla from childhood. Unbelievably so.
Franz, who had covered his mouth, barely held back his sobs. With a trembling voice, he asked,
“Did you come to see me one last time?”
He hadn’t seen her for years before she died, so Priscilla must have carried regrets in her heart.
Especially since, even as his twin, she had always played the role of his protector. She must’ve found it harder to leave behind her unreliable younger brother.
Eventually, Franz began to cry, tears falling freely as he reached toward his sister’s spirit.
“I’m sorry, Priscilla. I really am. I should have visited you more before you left…”
“What nonsense are you talking about, Franz?”
Priscilla’s ghost approached and flicked him on the forehead.
Thwack!
The sting was so real that Franz sat there dumbfounded, rubbing his now-reddened forehead.
Wait—can a ghost really make contact like that? Her touch had been far too warm…
“Like someone alive.”
Franz hurriedly turned on all the lights in the house. Under the brighter light, young Priscilla’s face became much clearer.
He grabbed her face without thinking, and the soft warmth of her skin made him jump back in shock.
“Y-you’re alive?!”
“Then do I look dead to you?”
“But, Priscilla… how… how is this possible…?”
Franz’s hand hovered in the air, unsure what to do.
“You’re wondering why I look so young?”
Franz nodded.
Priscilla looked far too youthful to be described as simply “baby-faced.” Even the short hair she had always kept during her marriage had become long and silky again.
“I don’t know either. That’s why I came to you. Is it possible for someone to come back to life… looking younger?”
“No, I’ve never heard of that. Not even a great mage could do that. Not even my master.”
At those words, Priscilla grew serious and fell deep into thought.
“If it’s not magic, then what is it? Could there really be mystical power in that ravine water…?”
As she pondered, Franz circled back to the most pressing point.
“Wait, what do you mean you ‘came back to life’?”
“Exactly what I said. I was almost murdered by Brian Mutant.”
“…What?!”
As her shocked younger brother sat down, Priscilla began to tell him everything that had happened.
“What kind of horrible bastard is he?!”
Upon hearing the truth, Franz was understandably outraged. His slender hand clenched into a fist and slammed the table.
“Let’s report him right now! We’ll prove you’re alive and file a complaint with the authorities against Brian Mutant!”
“Looking like this?”
Priscilla calmly asked her agitated brother.
Franz faltered. His sister no longer looked like the noblewoman in her mid-thirties—but rather, like a fresh-faced girl in her late teens.
“Who would believe a lady, supposedly dead from a scandalous affair, has come back to life looking younger?”
“….”
“They’d be more likely to assume something shady.”
Franz had no argument. Even seeing it with his own eyes, it was hard to believe.
As her brother stood lost in confusion, Priscilla reached out her hand and, with a firm and sincere voice, said,
“Franz, I want revenge. Not just against the Mutant dukedom—but the Ravello marquisate too.”
It wasn’t just the Mutant family that had destroyed her life. Her own family, the Ravellos, shared the blame.
If they hadn’t forced her into marriage, none of this would’ve happened.
“Can you help me?”
She gripped her brother’s hand tightly.
Aside from Franz, there wasn’t a single soul in the world who would be on her side.
That’s why she was asking him like this, even though part of her felt guilty about dragging her brother into this mess.
Franz, hearing the faint tremor in her voice, smiled gently.
“Of course I’ll help. You always said we were one, ever since we were kids.”
“Franz…”
“Your revenge is my revenge too. I want to see those two families punished.”
If it weren’t for that miracle, Priscilla would have died an unjust death.
“What should I do? Where do we start?”
Moved by her brother’s sincerity, Priscilla hugged him tightly.
Franz embraced his young-looking sister and gently patted her back.
“Thank you, really.”
“No need. Just tell me whatever you need.”
“Really?”
Franz smiled and nodded.
He owed his sister a great deal, and he would do anything to repay that debt.
Anything at all—
“Then, be my dad.”
“…Huh? Did I mishear you?”
Franz blinked as he let go of her from his embrace.
Her face—identical to his, save for gender—spoke clearly.
“Franz, you become my dad.”
“…Are you insane, sis?”
“No, I’m completely serious.”
Priscilla had spent all this time thinking—thinking of nothing but what she had to do.
How could she get the perfect revenge?
After much deliberation, she had come to a critical realization.
“There’s no way I can get revenge as Priscilla Mutant.”
It was practically impossible to punish the Duke of Mutant, her husband, or the Ravello marquisate as Priscilla Mutant.
She belonged to her husband and her father.
So the first thing she had to do… was discard Priscilla Mutant and become someone new.
“And the best way to do that is to become your hidden daughter.”
There’d be no need to fabricate a complicated origin. She’d simply be registered as Franz’s daughter at the registry office.
After hearing her full explanation, Franz asked with a pained voice,
“…Sis, how old are you now?”
“Eighteen.”
“I’m thirty-four. So for me to have an eighteen-year-old daughter… when would I have had to screw up?!”
Priscilla, already doing the math in her head, awkwardly rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Very, very early?”
Franz’s cabin deep in the mountains was simple but cozy. Tall pine trees surrounded it, and a clear stream flowed nearby.
The cool breeze and sun filtering through the leaves made it feel endlessly peaceful.
‘Remote, but the air is nice.’
Priscilla squatted by the stream, dipping her hands into the water, splashing around.
In truth, Franz living alone in this forest was only partly by choice.
Mages often had reclusive tendencies—locking themselves away to conduct research or invent new spells.
Franz had also disappeared for long periods from a young age to experiment with magic.
But that wasn’t the only reason he became independent.
After Priscilla got married, subtle pressure mounted for Franz to leave as well. In the end, he was half-forced to leave the family.
It was a move orchestrated by their stepmother, who feared Franz might interfere with her own son Alex inheriting the title.
The Marquis of Ravello gave not a single coin to his eldest son. Franz had saved up on his own to build this house.
‘If only Mother had lived… things might’ve been different.’
Priscilla gazed up at the clear sky, reflecting on her past life.
In the Trissen Empire, one could not legally work until they turned eighteen.
There were exceptions if a parent allowed it from age twelve, but the Marquis and Marchioness had refused.
So Priscilla had waited eagerly for her eighteenth birthday.
But in the spring of her eighteenth year…
Her useless father—plagued by failed business ventures and gambling addiction—suddenly arranged her marriage with the Duke of Mutant.
Priscilla had fiercely resisted at first.
She tried to earn money to run away with Franz, but the Ravello family blocked every attempt. They threatened and manipulated her at every turn.
“If you won’t marry, I’ll have no choice but to marry off Franz. Let’s see… the youngest princess of the northern kingdom of Morada is looking for a husband…”
“Are you kidding? Franz can’t stand the cold! And Morada bans all magic!”
“Exactly. So just marry the Duke of Mutant. That way, not only Franz but our whole family will be at peace!”
So she married—and look where that got her.
The unfairness of it all slowly chipped away at Priscilla’s once lively and bold nature.
Until just before her husband’s affair surfaced, she had chosen to avoid conflict and seek peace instead of fighting for what she deserved.
She had learned that resignation was far easier.
‘It’s fine. If I don’t get hurt, no one can hurt me.’
She had truly believed that. It was the only way to survive.
‘But now things are different. If someone tries to hurt me again, I won’t just sit there. That’s why I need a new identity and a new life.’
Clenching her fists, Priscilla recalled her conversation with Franz from the night before.
“I think the name Claire would suit you. What do you think?”
Franz, who had said he’d think about her proposal, suddenly brought it up at the dinner table.
Caught off guard, Priscilla looked at him in confusion.
He smiled and added softly,
“If I ever had a daughter, I’d want to name her that.”
Just as she had lived her life for Franz, he had always quietly followed her. Whatever she said, he obeyed.
Even this ridiculous request to become her father.
She was grateful—but also sorry, for placing such a burden on him.
Which was why she had to succeed in her revenge—no matter what.
Dusting the hem of her dress, Priscilla stood up.
She looked at a bird perched on the roof, singing calmly in the morning light.
‘This is such a Franz-like house.’
Despite being praised for his magical talent, he hadn’t gone to the Mage Tower. Instead, he chose a peaceful life in the forest.
Then, something caught her eye—a small garden in front of the cabin wall.
‘Did Franz plant that?’
Sadly, everything in the flowerbed was wilted and dead.
Priscilla gently stroked the leaves of one of the plants. It reminded her of herself—how she once used to be.
‘It would’ve been nice if you could’ve grown strong and healthy…’
And then—
A soft white light began to glow from her fingertips, enveloping the entire garden.
Soon, the drooping, lifeless plants began to spring back to life one by one—so fast they spread and climbed across the outer walls of the house.
