Chapter 2
I was alive.
I had spent hours perched on a chair, my little legs too short to touch the floor, swinging aimlessly as I tried to wrap my head around the absurdity of it all.
I had spent my whole life struggling to survive, only to be granted a second chance the moment I gave up.
“So now what? Am I supposed to die all over again?”
No, thank you. Just because I’d accepted death once didn’t mean I was eager to repeat the experience.
Still, if I had truly returned to the past, one fact remained unchanged—Callista would still be out to kill me. How many assassination attempts would I have to endure again?
Even worse, I’d have to face Clain again. And it wasn’t like Father ever protected me…
I glanced out the window. A sweeping view of the Luferen estate’s opulent gardens stretched out endlessly. Golden statues, jewel-encrusted fountains, and swarms of busy servants came and went.
Maybe it was because I hadn’t seen it in so long, but the sheer scale and wealth of House Luferen hit me like a wall.
“No.”
I shook my head sharply.
I don’t want to die this time. In my previous life, I never even got to enjoy a place this beautiful.
“Ah—milady?”
While I was lost in thought, Jenna spoke with concern.
“Milady, it’s almost mealtime. You should try to eat…”
I nodded, and Jenna gestured outside. Soon, a tray was brought in and placed before me. I sat at the table, still lost in thought.
Maybe it was the fatigue, or maybe the regression had dulled my senses, but my brain wasn’t moving as quickly as I wanted.
“I think I spent my eighth birthday alone.”
Around this time, Callista wouldn’t have been here. She would be away at the Imperial Academy, finishing her final term. Father, as usual, had left for some distant duchy.
Not that he ever showed me much affection, even when he was around.
“This family is so damn broken.”
House Luferen, the most powerful family in the empire—one even the Emperor couldn’t touch—had two daughters.
One was Callista, born from a political marriage to Lucille Rittra. She was a prodigy in everything: looks, swordsmanship, politics, economics, art, even magic. Any ordinary father would have proudly named her heir.
But not mine.
Albrine Luferen couldn’t stand her. Maybe it was because his divorce from Lucille soured his ties with the Rittra family, or maybe he’d never liked Lucille to begin with, and thus hated the daughter who resembled her.
And so, I was born—the daughter of a drunk duke and a maid he slept with once.
“A bastard from a maid can’t be a proper lady—”
“Well, we could always marry her off later?”
Some retainers had objected at the time, but Father—already irked by Callista’s rising talents—was happy to marry my mother. She was pregnant with me, after all.
So I became his legitimate child.
The cold-hearted Duke of the East who married a lowly maid just to claim a daughter as his own.
Sounds romantic, right? Like he was a warm-hearted man who loved his daughter and her mother.
He wasn’t.
He was just trying to suppress Callista and keep the Rittra family in check.
“Tch. Even this one looks just like her mother. A low-born woman…”
All I inherited from him were the Luferen family’s signature blue eyes. I didn’t look like him at all, and he quickly lost interest.
After marrying his third wife, he couldn’t even remember my mother’s name—the woman who died giving birth to me. So much for true love.
The real problem was that even after losing interest in me, he never explicitly removed me from the line of succession.
He wanted to use me as leverage against Callista, while secretly hoping to produce another heir in the meantime.
No wonder Callista saw me as a threat. It was entirely predictable.
Even after Father fell from grace in my previous life, some of the elders who refused to acknowledge Callista still insisted I was the true heir. They tried to push her out in favor of me.
That eventually led to Clain being brought in…
But that was still far off, at least for now.
So, how had I lived in House Luferen?
I rubbed my tiny forehead, trying to recall the past. Maybe it was a side effect of the regression, but my memories came back in pieces.
“Milady, the meal is ready. Will you be eating today, or—”
“Yeah, I’ll eat.”
My stomach had started to growl from all that thinking. Without hesitation, I picked up a piece of bread from the tray and bit into it.
“Ah—milady?”
“…Ugh!”
The moment I chewed, a rancid taste burst in my mouth, and I gagged. I spit out the bread and retched.
“Milady! Quickly, spit it out!”
“Gah—p-too!”
Jenna patted my back as I coughed and choked. When I looked down, I saw mold coating the bread. The soup reeked of rot.
“What were you thinking, just eating that?!”
Ah. Right.
As Jenna scolded me, memories of my childhood meals came flooding back. Rotting, disgusting food served every day.
With no maternal family and a neglectful father, I had become an easy target. Easy to use, easier to torment.
My belongings constantly went missing. The food brought to my room was rarely edible.
“If you were hungry, you should’ve told me. I could’ve brought you something better if you waited just a bit…”
Jenna poured me a cup of water and sighed.
She was the only one who looked after me, but she didn’t have the power to question what food was being sent. Afraid of upsetting the kitchen staff, she would quietly dispose of the meals and sneak in edible scraps later.
A few pieces of black bread stolen from the kitchen were all I got.
I had grown used to it in the past.
“God. What kind of life was that?”
To think I put up with this. Assassination attempts were one thing, but I couldn’t even eat properly?
Clink—
I set down my fork. Jenna’s eyes widened.
“Just wait a moment, milady. I think there’s still some black bread in the drawer—”
“I don’t want black bread.”
I cut her off with a shake of my head and rinsed my mouth with water to get rid of the foul taste.
This wasn’t the time to admire the view from the garden.
I’d forgotten, but House Luferen was a lion’s den for me.
I endured it all until I finally ran away at fourteen.
I wasn’t doing that again.
“…Bring me the chef.”
Jenna blinked rapidly at my firm tone.
“M-Milady… let it go, please.”
“Hm. I suppose he wouldn’t come just because you asked, would he?”
Instead of waiting for her reply, I grabbed the moldiest piece of bread and shoved a few more rotten muffins and cakes into my pockets.
“Then I’ll go myself.”
I hopped off the chair and marched out the door. Jenna called after me, but I didn’t look back.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
As I ran down the stairs, my mind raced.
“Now… who was it that kept tormenting me?”
In my last life, I never figured it out. I’d assumed Callista was behind it all.
But now I knew better.
Callista would cut a throat clean before ever stooping to something as petty as food tampering. And she wasn’t the only one in this mansion who wanted me gone.
I pictured the tangled web of power that ran through House Luferen.
Clack—
The kitchen door opened, and several eyes turned to me in surprise.
“Lady Harper?”
“I need to speak with Leroy.”
I tilted my head up and looked at them boldly, hugging the moldy bread to my chest.
Technically, the head chef of House Luferen held a prestigious position. It was a serious offense to barge in like this and call for him during work.
But I didn’t care. Kids get away with things sometimes.
“Please call Leroy.”
At my second request, a burly man with a thick mustache emerged from the back.
Leroy Brown. The head chef of House Luferen.
Also, the one who’d tampered with my food.
If memory served, this was around the time he began embezzling from the kitchen budget to pay off gambling debts.
He did it in various ways—falsifying purchase orders, stealing supplies, and yes, replacing my meals with spoiled leftovers.
That way, he could lower the official food budget and pocket the difference.
He didn’t fear being caught. He was a distant relative of Father’s third wife, Clarissa.
“What’s the matter?”
He didn’t even bother greeting me. Not surprising—most servants didn’t.
“This bread is spoiled.”
I held up the bread and stated it flatly.
“It was made by you, Leroy.”
I said his name clearly, and several assistants gasped. His mustache twitched.
“And who told you such nonsense?”
Predictably, he feigned ignorance with a sour expression.
In my past life, he got away with embezzling for years.
Eventually, when Clarissa and Callista clashed, he picked the wrong side and quietly “disappeared”—but that was years away.
“Jenna said the fuzzy stuff is mold. Please replace it with fresh bread.”
I rose on tiptoes to show him the bread up close.
A decent chef would have feigned a mistake and handed me a new piece.
Instead, Leroy laughed and took the bread.
“You know nothing, milady.”
He turned the bread over in his hands, smirking.
“This is a green-centered bread. It’s rare and expensive. You’d be called ignorant for not knowing that outside these walls.”
He pointed at the mold like it was a prized ingredient. The assistants glanced at me with pity, but none dared speak.
“…Ignorant?”
“Well, considering your mother’s bloodline, it’s understandable.”
The assistants gasped louder this time.
Even if I wasn’t respected, I was still a duke’s daughter, and my mother died a duchess.
For Leroy, a mere servant, to say “your mother” with such disdain—it was unforgivable.
“But—”
“No ‘but.’”
He cut me off with a smug look. Clearly enjoying the sight of someone of higher status squirming under him.
“You should be honored. His Majesty the Emperor would enjoy such bread. This is a Leroy masterpiece. Be grateful.”
He shoved the bread back into my hands with a grin. I took it silently.
“…Is that so? His Majesty would eat this?”
“Yes. And for the record, I’m a busy man. Don’t come back over something this petty.”
He dismissed me outright, then leaned in with a whisper only I could hear.
“So get used to it, milady. Today, tomorrow, forever—you’ll eat that bread.”
He grinned as he pushed me out of the kitchen and slammed the door shut behind me.
He didn’t see the small smile curling at my lips.
Perfect.
He’d said exactly what I wanted him to—in front of witnesses.
