<CHAPTER 02>
Vivia had been nothing in this world.
At least, that was how she had always lived, believing it to be true.
Until Achero Rodrigo discovered her and brought her to Chedor.
The foster father who had worked her as a maid her entire life fled in the dead of night, leaving behind only a monstrous mountain of debt.
Just before she was to be sold off as a woman of the streets, Achero made her an offer.
The same name as the lost youngest child of the House of Rodrigo.
The same gender, the same hair color, the same eyes.
The only difference was status.
A miraculous coincidence.
Or a coincidence that felt like a miracle.
Vivia’s twisted childhood story was carefully embellished through a series of contracts.
She was, in truth, the lost youngest of the Rodrigo ducal house, who had suffered after losing her memories and had finally returned to her rightful place.
If that story had truly been real, it would have been the greatest blessing for Vivia.
But unfortunately, Vivia remembered the faces of the impoverished birth parents who had sold her.
Moreover, the slum neighbors knew every detail of her upbringing after her birth.
It could never become truth.
Lost in reminiscence, Vivia snapped back to the present.
The guest chamber the maid had informed her of was right before her.
The destination at the end of the corridor she had to reach.
There, a man stood.
A man with the same blue eyes as hers.
Her chest churned reflexively.
Her heart tightened as though blocked.
She halted for a moment, fighting the urge to turn and flee, and forced herself to continue walking.
“Vivia.”
The gentle, low voice pierced her ears.
And at last, Vivia’s composure crumbled.
On the northern terrace bathed quietly in moonlight, their gazes met—gazes that should never have crossed in this lifetime.
The shadows, aware of how ominous and cruel this meeting was, trembled in restless agitation.
Eyes the color of forget-me-nots curved softly as they looked at her.
The man approached Vivia with elegant steps that made almost no sound.
On the path leading to him, Vivia sank into and surfaced from thousands of thoughts.
Tim had whispered to her.
Never let him see your heart.
The stars had advised her.
You must never love this man.
The hole pierced through her heart by Achero was bottomless.
Pain that felt as though it would vanish only in death came without pause.
Vivia exhaled slowly.
Looking at Achero was always agony for her.
Because Achero had been the gentle sunlight that suddenly burst into her life.
One day he appeared and cast her into the performance of salvation.
Emotion surged through her body.
Vivia staggered and tilted sideways.
“Careful now. You’ll fall.”
Achero quickly—yet with flawless grace—caught her by the waist and supported her.
A tender smile hung upon his lips.
The faint scent of cool liquor drifted from him, seeping into her senses with a sweetness that made her squeeze her eyes shut before opening them again.
A winter day came to mind, and the pain grew sharper still.
“I can stand on my own.”
“I know. Don’t overdo it.”
Achero spoke with a smile in his voice and stroked her hair.
Vivia forced a faint smile and lightly brushed his hand away.
If only they truly were the sibling pair they appeared to be.
“Shall we go in?”
The faint trace of a smile vanished from Vivia’s face.
She nodded stiffly.
The moment the guest room door shut behind them—
Vivia was pulled into Achero’s arms.
Her golden hair scattered helplessly in the air.
Her blue eyes trembled.
“Oppa—”
She twisted slightly, trying to free herself.
But when Achero buried his face against her neck, strength drained from her body.
She could never win against him.
Even knowing this was wrong.
As though he had read her heart, Achero’s beautiful lips curved.
His hand tightened around her waist.
A faint laugh escaped between his parted lips.
His body was warm.
Even his breath carried warmth.
Then why did her own heart grow colder the warmer he was?
“You don’t need to worry. There are no devices installed tonight.”
Did you check?
“I did. Thoroughly enough that I don’t need to check again. You can rest easy.”
No danger of eavesdropping or spying.
Given Achero’s meticulous nature, she could trust that.
Especially in matters involving her.
He gazed at her with honeyed eyes and gently brushed a fallen strand of her hair behind her ear.
“And Vivia, Achero.”
“You should call me Achero.”
When they were alone, he had always insisted.
Call me by my name.
“My Vivia.”
His fingers traced lightly up the nape of her neck.
His touch was unmistakably seductive.
Their breaths were too close.
Vivia stared at her own reflection trapped within his blue eyes.
Then she closed her eyes instead, choosing to turn away from the reality that bound her.
Their lips met.
No matter how many times she experienced it, the sensation was overwhelming.
If this endless misuse was reality, she would wither and die before long.
It felt as though someone were gripping her heart, shaking it violently just before death.
Unable to breathe—
Unable to live—
Vivia pushed against Achero’s chest.
He smiled and stepped back obediently.
Her ragged breathing scattered in the air.
While she struggled to steady herself, Achero pressed a slow kiss to her lips once more, as if even those fleeting seconds were too precious to waste.
At last, his lips descended upon the back of her hand—
Exactly where the Crown Prince’s lips had touched at the ball.
In truth—
A hundred times, a thousand times, Vivia had wanted to take Achero’s hand.
To confess impulsively.
To tell him she loved him.
That she wished to abandon everything and leave with him forever.
But it was an impossible wish.
A dream that had to be killed.
“You once said you’ve never been to the sea, didn’t you?”
“Not even from afar.”
“The sea I visited this time was truly beautiful. Let’s go together next time.”
“I think it would be even more enjoyable with you, Vivia.”
He spoke to her so naturally.
As though nothing had happened.
As though there could be a next time.
Tears threatened to spill, and Vivia bit down on her lips.
She blinked rapidly to dispel the moisture gathering in her eyes.
You bastard.
He knew.
He knew exactly how she looked at him.
What she felt.
Next time?
When would that be?
Was there ever such a thing as “next” for them?
Whenever she tried to imagine herself standing by the sea with Achero, what surfaced instead was the image of herself alone, standing precariously at the edge of a cliff at the end of some life.
Vivia wished to die in the most painful way possible.
Leaving no trace of her existence behind.
Not even a fragment of a corpse.
This world was too cruel for Vivia to live in.
It demanded that a “fake” become real, while never allowing her to truly become it.
Achero stared into her eyes with brilliance like a midsummer sky.
His lips still smiled, but no warmth lingered at the corners of his eyes.
Silence fell.
Neither spoke.
Time alone flowed slowly.
Achero had always been like this.
If Vivia did not answer, he would wait indefinitely until she did.
It was a battle she could never win.
In the end, unable to leave her place forever, Vivia had no choice but to say it.
“All right.”
She forced her lips upward.
“When shall we go? With the wedding preparations, it’s difficult to make time. Oppa— no, Achero. Tell me your schedule first, and I’ll adjust mine.”
Thus, she too spoke of a promise with no future.
Only then did Achero’s eyes curve in satisfaction.
Ah.
Loving Achero within this contract had been Vivia’s greatest disaster.
How had it come to this?
Yes.
A life she had never been allowed to choose.
A pitiful fate she could never shape as she wished.
It had driven Vivia into a chasm like physiognomic doom.
It had begun merely half a year ago.
