Bad luck isn’t predetermined from the moment of birth.
It only happens that as we live and spend time together, our hearts grow apart.
There were times when my relationship with Yuria wasn’t so bad.
But that period was so short that I can barely remember it; it was far too long ago.
We were simply forgetting it.
Sometimes, the flutter of a butterfly’s wings can bring about a northern wind.
Could our relationship be viewed from that perspective too?
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that something so trivial could have started my reincarnation.
My head was throbbing.
Since meeting Arwen, my head was tightening as if it were about to shatter.
While desperately holding back the urge to gag, I tightly shut my eyes against my swirling vision.
I bit my lips to endure the pain, while on the other hand, recalling our earlier conversation.
I think this might be the first time I directly said something like that to Yuria.
Throughout my entire life, I never thought of voicing such hostility.
Maybe I should have just said it in the last round and died.
The expression Yuria just made… was quite amusing.
Why am I shaking? Because I don’t like it?
If that’s all it took, then I was rather disappointed.
If she’s the kind of woman to be discouraged over such a reason, why did she treat me that way?
I know she hasn’t harmed me in this life.
However, the fact that she has been doing the same since childhood hasn’t changed.
Part of the reason I ended up weak, cowardly, and living so disgracefully can safely be attributed to Yuria.
I didn’t want to blame someone else.
I didn’t want to turn my own curled-up body into someone else’s fault.
But isn’t it clear that the things I faced in the past have affected me?
The pain in my head persisted, but I looked vacantly into the air through my half-open eyes.
This room was chosen because I didn’t want to run into Yuria.
Being in a corner of the second floor meant I wouldn’t have to pass by her in the hallway.
I also avoided eating together.
I still had memories of being dragged by Yuria and beaten if I made a mistake while eating.
I had spent a considerable amount of time in the grasp of my sister, who was four years older than me.
After my mother passed away, it was possible for Yuria to take on the role of the lady of this house.
If I made a mistake, I would be scolded, beaten, thrown outside, and then confined again.
Although it happened under my father’s tacit approval, it was certainly filled with Yuria’s will.
Yet, the past was something I endured.
Instead, I blamed myself, constantly pondering why I was so foolish.
“…You stupid brat.”
In truth, I probably didn’t even need to feel that way.
I should have realized that it was strange to feel wronged by what was happening to me.
It was clear that I realized something was off a long time ago.
After dying a few times, I recognized that something in Yuria had twisted.
But even so, I didn’t give up hope.
Because there had been words I heard as a child that I wanted to cherish for a lifetime.
If I love, and if I don’t give up, everything will return to the way it was before.
Everything would return to normal, or so I once believed.
Now I know that it was wrong, but still…
Suddenly, a bitter smile escaped me as my gaze fell upon a framed picture.
The picture showed an eye obscured by half of a face.
I quietly gazed at a painting of a woman who was smiling at someone, a portrait created quite some time ago, and it reminded me of the past I had nearly forgotten.
The reason I had been so obsessed with relationships was due to one word I had held deep within my heart.
If I were to explain why I couldn’t give up on the Taylor family despite repeating my life a hundred times…
It was simply because I couldn’t forget the one word my mother left behind before she died.
#
Ilesia Taylor, the woman who was called the lady of the Duke Taylor’s household.
Yuria knew a lot about her.
Of course she did. How could she not know her mother who gave birth to her and raised her?
However, Yuria disliked Ilesia since childhood.
She only expressed her gratitude for being born out of courtesy and never liked that constantly cheerful smile.
The Taylors, being the sword of the Empire, had to be loyal to the Emperor and fight with all their might against enemies threatening the nation.
Thus, they had to always remain composed.
Yuria’s inability to smile was part of what she learned as a child.
Laughter was a sign of relaxation, and one must always stay tense and prepared for emergencies.
As a Taylor, who held the most prominent and glorious position in this Empire, she had to be a role model for all nobles.
“Yuria, did you bully Robert again?”
“I didn’t bully him. He dropped his fork during dinner, so I reprimanded him instead of the duke.”
She never liked seeing Robert rush over to their mother, crying after being punished.
Being only three years old, he might act that way, but Yuria thought such behavior was foolish.
She didn’t act like that at three years old.
When Robert was first born, he was quite adorable, but as he grew, he only resembled Ilesia more and more.
The children of the Taylor family must not be unruly.
One must always hide their tears, and even laughter must be concealed.
Remaining cold and composed while adapting flexibly to every situation is the essence of the Taylor spirit.
Yet, my younger sibling didn’t fit that ideology at all.
How much punishment should I give him?
At that time, Yuria found herself contemplating such thoughts while looking at Robert.
If he weren’t my sibling, I likely wouldn’t even bother with such worries.
I wouldn’t have cared if I lived however I wanted and messed things up.
Isn’t it a talent to draw such attention?
Ilesia was staring at me intently.
Was there concern in her eyes? It didn’t even seem funny.
Concern is for those who are lacking. I was not the subject of her worries.
It was more than enough to direct such feelings towards my foolish younger sibling.
Yuria turned her back without responding to that gaze.
And that was the last time she saw her mother in good health.
Perhaps I remember it as the sudden illness that struck her.
One day she suddenly fell ill and collapsed, not lasting a few days before losing her life.
It was an unexpected death for someone who had always been healthy.
It was a death that neither the doctor, the priest, nor even the young saint could heal.
It was a strange death, but later on, I learned that it was due to an illness for which no cure had been developed.
“Mom, Mom…!”
I saw my younger sibling crying over the already cold corpse.
What kind of answer did they expect from a lifeless body that could no longer speak?
Yuria couldn’t understand that scene.
She was aware that her mother had died, but she did not feel sad.
People dying is a perfectly natural occurrence; it was something that would eventually come, even if it was her mother.
It just happened a little earlier.
That thought hadn’t changed back then or at this moment.
Perhaps she had even hoped for it.
With her mother’s death, she wished for her weak and foolish younger sibling’s attitude to transform.
But it didn’t change. In fact, that behavior only intensified.
At that time, she had been appointed as the Lady of the House.
Ultimately, she had no choice but to make a decision.
Hoping her sibling would improve a little, she intended to reshape them into someone fitting for Taylor.
For a noble, manners were of utmost importance.
Thus, she strived to correct it, even if it meant using a whip.
As the years passed, that issue was beautifully corrected, and the next step was to mold them into someone suitable for Taylor.
Since her father had also never said anything against what she was doing, she had lived thinking all along that it was correct.
After all, it was how someone associated with Taylor should be.
“…Robert.”
She muttered as she looked at the empty corridor now devoid of anyone.
Yet, no answer came back. Hadn’t he already left?
There was no possibility of her younger sibling returning here to answer.
Though reason had made that judgment, Yuria was simply engulfed in confusion for the first time.
-I don’t dislike the Taylor family. It’s just…
Those were eyes she had never seen before.
Filled with hatred and contempt for someone, the emotions seemed ready to ignite and burn the surroundings.
Eyes she never imagined she would see on her once weak sibling.
What was surprising, however, was that those feelings were directed at her.
-I just dislike you.
It was the first time she felt such an emotion. Was this what they called confusion?
She was certain that the words had shaken her.
To dislike someone; that sentiment bore a meaning more profound than any other words.
She had known something had changed in the past few days.
They had once cowered at her gaze, but now they met her eyes squarely.
The title that had once been “sister” had shifted to “Lady of the House,” and when she got angry, the response was calm, rather than fearful.
She sensed something was off, but that was all.
She thought that the essence hadn’t changed, and that in due time, they would return to their original behavior.
That was what she believed.
But nothing had changed at all.
As time passed, her eyes gradually became colder and more indifferent.
Just recalling the eyes that showed no emotion made her vision feel strangely unstable.
In the dizzying blur, Yuria stumbled for a moment, leaning against the wall.
– You have no interest in me anyway, Lady of the House.
“…That’s wrong.”
It wasn’t like that.
If there hadn’t been any interest, there wouldn’t have been any attempt to make her fit in as a Taylor.
It wasn’t that. It wasn’t that—simply, she.
Suddenly realized that she was losing her breath.
She curled her body as the feeling of constriction tightened around her neck, letting out a breath while still leaning against the wall.
The memory of Ilesia’s dying eyes came to mind.
The eyes that had gazed at her held no other emotions.
Instead, they were eyes that only carried pity for her.
Why had those eyes looked at her that way?
She had no shame for what she had done until now.
It was because she followed the teachings she learned from her father.
Taylor was not wrong, and believing that everything would go well if she acted according to that conviction kept her going.
But why did Robert say he hated her?
If he meant to say that what she had done was wrong.
No, that couldn’t be it. Hadn’t she been taught otherwise since childhood?
She had lived up to the name of Taylor.
She didn’t smile, nor did she cry. She worked hard to conceal her emotions and always show a calm demeanor.
Even if it was family. To Yuria, her family was more important than anything.
There was a vow she made in her girlhood.
When she became the Lady of the House, she engraved upon her heart that she would not waver, no matter what happened.
She would become the sword of the Empire one day, and she declared that she would follow her convictions in any situation.
It was steadfast. It had not wavered.
Until now, she could swear it to the full moon above.
But if someone said that was wrong, wouldn’t that mean her entire life was meaningless?
That couldn’t be it. Yuria, having finally corrected her posture, stared at the empty hallway.
Her eyes still trembled, and her distorted expression remained.
If someone saw her, they would surely be quite shocked.
It must have been the first time the face of Yuria Taylor, a woman, was so utterly ruined.
“…I…”
She couldn’t finish her sentence and kept mumbling only those words.
No one would hear.
On the night the full moon bloomed, there was no one to hear the words echoing in this silence.
“I…”
With her voice gradually fading, Yuria pressed her lips together and closed her eyes.
She had confidence, but now she couldn’t bring herself to call it that.
Wasn’t it just nothing? Her younger sibling, whom she had never particularly liked, had simply said they disliked her.
But.
But why was she feeling this restless?
In the early hours of dawn, her heart was in turmoil, and Yuria stared blankly at the hallway where Robert had disappeared.
She did so, aimlessly, until dawn passed and morning arrived.
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