“You shouldn’t have been born, Ariana. But since you were born, you should at least be useful. Isn’t that right?”
The 28th birthday that no one remembers. I, who was used by my family all my life, died miserably. But I was given another chance. Without understanding why, I am back at 16, and I make a firm decision. I will never love again, nor will I be loved. I won’t seek the recognition of those sitting in noble positions with their vulgar hearts. But then…
“I’ve heard you are as beautiful as a painting. I’ve heard you make a woman’s heart beat endlessly. And indeed, it’s true.”
You respond calmly to my indifferent words, “Really? It doesn’t seem like your heart is beating when you say that.”
“That can’t be. If my heart isn’t beating, I would be dead.”
You, who sit in a noble seat more than anyone else, so beautiful like the moonlight that dyes the deep night lake, why do you come so casually to me and say, “If you learn to control your smile freely, you might even possess the world.”
