TSHNL 01

Chapter 01 

Prolog

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The world was bathed in red.

Amid the blazing sanctum, with the sounds of screams, clashing weapons, and war cries ringing out from afar, I stood still, quietly waiting for her.

‘…It’s all over.’

The Crown Prince’s army wouldn’t last much longer.

My half-sister—now the Duke—Callista Luferen, fought with the fury of a storm ready to sweep the continent. Her victory was all but certain.

‘I should’ve just died back then instead of running away.’

Born the second daughter of House Luferen, I had spent my entire life under the looming shadow of my half-sister Callista, who constantly threatened my existence. Four years ago, I finally ran away.

When I met the Crown Prince, Clain Bayan, outside the gates, I thought I’d found salvation.

If only I’d known how cruel that war-obsessed man truly was.

Not content with the crown, he’d long coveted the Luferen Duchy. The moment he saw me, he pounced—declaring me his fiancée and using it as justification to wage war.

“The true heir of House Luferen is my betrothed! Callista Luferen must surrender her title and land to me!”

That was the Crown Prince’s delusional claim.

For the record, I never agreed to marry Clain with full knowledge of his intentions. I was foolish enough to believe that our marriage would bring harmony between House Luferen, the royal family, and myself.

When I learned the truth and tried to stop him, he locked me in a small room and threatened me with a sneer.

“Keep talking if you want to die. I don’t mind marrying a corpse.”

I tried to escape multiple times, but I failed every time.

The only time I was allowed outside was when he needed to parade me at the front of his marching army.

The empire crumbled under the war he started, but the Crown Prince didn’t care.

Worse, he seemed to revel in others’ pain, engaging in unnecessary torture with genuine glee.

The more I suffered at the sight, the more joy he seemed to take in it.

Once hailed as a hero for slaying a demon dragon in his youth to protect his brother, even earning the nickname “the Reincarnation of the Founding Emperor,” Clain had become a monster. Even his mother, the Empress, probably wouldn’t defend that title anymore.

Even if nothing remained but ashes, Clain would be satisfied so long as the empire was in his hands.

‘I never imagined I’d be wishing to see Callista.’

Compared to Clain, she would be a thousand times better as a ruler.

Callista cherished her subjects, led her subordinates with respect and strict discipline, and guided the duchy to prosperity with clear principles and effective governance.

Even amidst countless acts of carnage fighting the Crown Prince’s army, she must have grieved for the dying citizens of the empire.

Even while burning the capital with her own hands, I knew she left behind hope for those who would rise from the ashes.

Perhaps I was the only one she truly despised.

I was born as her rival and ultimately became the very justification for this war.

‘What an ironic end.’

Not long ago, Clain killed his own father and crowned himself Emperor. Now, with his death inevitable, the empire would fall into Callista’s hands.

What that crown meant to her, after losing countless allies, I couldn’t say.

‘But it’s for the best.’

If anyone could rebuild a burned empire, it was Callista.

Thud—!

“Argh!”

The soldier guarding my door finally collapsed. The door swung open.

I lifted my head and saw a face cold and beautiful like the ice of the northern seas, gazing down at me.

I swallowed hard and greeted her.

“It’s been a while, sister.”

“…Harper.”

“Congratulations. If you’re here, Clain must already be dead.”

Blood from the soldier she had just slain stained her moonlit silver hair.

That vivid red only made her appear more beautiful.

And below that shimmered the deep blue eyes I had spent my life avoiding—eyes like the ocean at night.

But today, I wasn’t afraid.

Because I was going to die anyway.

“Go on. Strike me down.”

As I stepped forward, unarmed, her eyes widened slightly.

In her hand was the letter I had secretly sent her—detailing Clain’s military strategy, troop numbers, and even secret escape routes.

“…Why did you help me?” she asked, her voice wavering.

Waves rippled faintly in her eyes.

I simply shrugged.

“It’s what I should have done from the start.”

I meant it. If only one of them could survive—Clain or Callista—I would choose her a hundred times over.

“Everything you said was right. I had nowhere to go after leaving House Luferen.”

Her grip on the sword trembled, or maybe I imagined it.

“…Harper.”

“If we cannot coexist, then dying by your hand is how it should end. So…”

I brought my neck to her blade, shimmering with a vivid blue aura.

“Kill me. You have to kill me for this war to truly end.”

The waves in her eyes surged violently.

She stood frozen, disbelief written across her face.

“Why are you…?”

“Does it matter why?”

I asked, letting sarcasm creep into my voice.

Callista, who had spent a lifetime grinding her teeth wishing she could kill me, was now hesitating?

She closed her eyes slowly, then opened them with a sharp gleam.

“…No.”

In a single moment, her wavering eyes turned cold and resolute—the eyes of the ruler I knew.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Her voice, sharp as a blade, rang through the room.

I closed my eyes, just like she had.

“Then—”

Before I could finish, the sound of steel slicing the air reached my ears.

That distinct sharp whistle—only Callista’s blade could make it.

Shhh—

A cold wind grazed my neck, and my consciousness was dragged into darkness.

Ah… yes.

This was what Callista’s mercy looked like.

As I drifted into oblivion, I managed a bitter smile.

Swift, clean, and merciful—so the victim would not suffer long, so they wouldn’t fear for too long.

That was her first and last act of kindness toward me.

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* * *

“…Milady.”

Ugh.

“Milady?”

Can’t they let a girl rest in peace?

“Milady.”

So noisy. Don’t they know the meaning of “eternal rest”?

“Milady! Lady Harper!”

“…Mmm?”

The shout in my ear startled me awake. A vaguely familiar face hovered into view.

“Good heavens, you’re finally awake! What could’ve tired you out so much that you slept this late?”

“Huh?”

I rubbed my eyes and slowly sat up.

The familiar face tilted her head, concerned.

“…Jenna?”

Wasn’t she the maid who got married and left the ducal house five years ago? Why was she at my bedside?

“Did you die too?”

I mumbled. She blinked, touched my forehead, and frowned.

“You don’t have a fever… What a strange thing to say.”

Even after rubbing my eyes, the sight was strange.

Her face looked much younger than I remembered.

But what was even stranger was—

“Wait…”

I finally caught sight of the mirror on the wall across the room.

“…What is this?”

The blonde girl reflected in the mirror was me—but smaller, rounder.

A chubby-cheeked, short-limbed child stared back.

“How old am I…?”

“You turned eight three days ago, milady.”

Jenna grinned and ruffled my hair.

My curls bounced wildly at her touch—still thick and healthy.

This was definitely me, before I met the Crown Prince. Before I truly understood what suffering was.

“Eight years old…”

I repeated the words.

As the meaning sank in, the room began to spin.

“Milady!”

I collapsed onto the bed with a thud, unable to deny it any longer.

Somehow, at the moment of death… I had returned to ten years ago.