YWTO 06

Chapter 6

‘You—go back.’

It happened as the Duke and Ayla were heading toward the keepsake room.
Rampos stepped in front of Yurein, blocking her path, and told her to return.

Yurein stared silently at him.
The glasses perched on his nose glinted coldly.

Rampos didn’t say another word, but his meaning was clear as day:
There’s no place for you here.
Someone like you has no right to enter the Duchess’s keepsake room.

Pure hostility dripped from him, heavy and unmistakable.

Watching him, Yurein curved her lips into a faint, mocking smile.
How ridiculous—that he, who hadn’t even realized the keepsakes had been tampered with, was acting so self-righteous.
But that wasn’t what she needed to care about right now.

As she watched the Duke and Ayla hurrying upstairs, Yurein turned her back and walked toward her room.
They weren’t important at the moment. She had something to do.

Seated in the sitting room, Yurein turned to the maid beside her and smiled gently.
“Rebecca.”
“Y-yes, my lady?” Rebecca hiccuped nervously as she spoke.

Yurein regarded her for a moment, then smiled kindly again.
“You should go back and rest, Rebecca. There’s no need for you to stay here.”
“But…”

Rebecca flinched and fidgeted with her fingers.
“It’s all right. You’ve been through a lot.”

At Yurein’s gentle tone, Rebecca’s eyes grew red.
“But my lady… you’re not all right.”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing new.”

Her calm voice only made Rebecca’s eyes water more.
After a moment’s hesitation, Rebecca bowed and quietly left the room.

Click.

Once the door closed, Yurein took a deep breath and stood up.
She’d gone to look for Rebecca and gotten caught up in all sorts of trouble, but this was the moment she had been waiting to prepare for.

‘Actually, this works out better.’
Everyone’s attention was fixed on the keepsake room. That made this the perfect opportunity.

Yurein organized her thoughts carefully.
She had a rough idea of what she needed to do next.

‘Time to move quickly.’

She began walking with purpose. There wasn’t much time.

Clack.

When Yurein entered her dressing room, her eyes widened.
“Huh?”

The entire room shimmered with a silver glow of magic.
She stared, stunned. The light was radiant and beautiful—yet fragile, as if it might vanish at any moment.

Her gaze followed the flow of the magic. It was seeping out of a jewelry drawer.

Slide.

When she opened it, only a few accessories lay inside—quite a sparse collection for a duke’s daughter, or any noble lady for that matter.
That was all she owned.

Yurein reached in and pulled out a small box hidden deep within the drawer.
The silver light was leaking from that box.
She ran her fingers over its velvet surface.

‘This was left by your mother.’

She remembered.
It had been around the time she was old enough to understand her place in this household.
One day, the Duke handed her this box, saying it was her mother’s keepsake.

‘If she’d known she would die because of you, she never would’ve left you something like this.’

The hope fluttering in her chest—thinking it might be a gift—vanished instantly at his cold murmur.
She looked up at him.
It wasn’t a gift. It was merely an obligation—something he was returning on his late wife’s behalf.
His face had been so cold that she understood it all without needing further explanation.

Maybe that was the moment she first closed her heart to him.

Ayla’s wardrobe was always filled with new jewelry, but Yurein never received any.
She only wore simple pieces when she absolutely had to attend events as the Duke’s eldest daughter.

And yet, she’d never really envied Ayla for that.
Back then, she’d only worried that the newly adopted girl might feel lonely in this unfamiliar household.
She thought it was her duty—as the Duke’s biological daughter—to help Ayla adjust.

The only thing she had envied, just a little, was…
the warmth in the Duke’s and Rampos’s eyes when they gave Ayla a gift.
The tender letters Rampos sent her from time to time.

Those small things sometimes made Yurein’s chest ache with longing.
But that was all in the past.

‘Not anymore.’

Her eyes narrowed.
Once, perhaps, she’d felt that way—but those emotions had long rusted away.

Yurein opened the box that had brought those memories flooding back.
Inside were two thin bracelets.

“These are…”

She held them up for a closer look.
They were a matching pair—one adorned with fresh green peridot, the other with blue sapphire that once shone brilliantly.

Once—because the sapphire was now shattered, its brilliance gone, dulled to a cloudy gray.

It was the same bracelet she had worn at her sister’s engagement banquet—right before her own death.

Yurein turned to the other bracelet: a simple platinum band engraved with the Tarbargen family crest.
From the peridot at its center, magic pulsed faintly outward.
It was her mother, Duchess Rosalyn Tarbargen’s, magic.

‘…Mother’s power was activated.’

The reason the sapphire bracelet shattered became clear.
When certain conditions were met, her mother’s esper ability had awakened within it.
Her mother’s power—was time.

Yurein closed her eyes tightly.
Sometimes, a powerful esper’s energy remained within an object, allowing it to function as a conduit even after their death.
Once the right conditions were fulfilled, the magic would reawaken.

Clutching the bracelet, Yurein gritted her teeth.
Now she was sure—she had returned to the past.
This bracelet was undeniable proof of her death and rebirth.

She reached out and grasped the peridot bracelet.
Instantly, a jolt ran through her—her mother’s magic flowed into her fingertips.

‘This is strange…’

She blinked in confusion.
It was odd for magic to flow into her so naturally.
Even guides couldn’t absorb every esper’s energy; that kind of connection only came after deep mutual resonance over time.

Then suddenly—

The peridot at the center glowed.
The silver magic filling the room surged into Yurein’s body.

“Ugh…!”

A shiver ran through her.
Her whole body tingled; her senses slowly came alive.
As if entranced, she lifted her hand and focused her magic there.

A low hum filled the room.
Her power gathered at her fingertips—much more naturally than it had when she’d first awakened.

Yurein stared at her hand in awe.
Her mother’s magic blended seamlessly with her own, as if they had always been one.

‘Wait… this feeling…’

She furrowed her brows, recalling her past life.
Rarely, but sometimes, espers would infuse gemstones with their power to protect a precious guide—granting them temporary use of their abilities.

‘So that’s why.’

Her mother hadn’t left her a mere keepsake.
The bracelet was a conduit—a legacy that allowed Yurein to use her mother’s power in times of crisis.

The magic swirled warmly within her, enveloping her like an embrace.
The tenderness it carried made her face twist in anguish.
If she didn’t, she feared the sorrow would spill over.

Before her return, Yurein had lived believing she was a sinner—the cause of her mother’s death.
Everyone had said so.

That a brilliant esper duchess had died giving birth to a powerless child.

Everywhere she went, people compared her to the late Rosalyn Tarbargen.
The child who devoured her own mother.

It was only natural, then, that her family despised her, and the servants looked down on her.
She came to believe her very existence was a sin.
That even in death, her mother must hate her.

But in this moment—