I always thought that people only betray when they are desperate.
What a pity… the person who killed me smiled so calmly.
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I always thought I would die on the battlefield.
Not like this—
Not at a victory party, behind the lines, under the dim candlelight of a quiet inn.
My name is Mabel Phemlo, captain of the Royal Knights.
I once swore before the temple: "Live for the light, die for the kingdom."
But today, the light betrayed me.
"General Mabel, let's drink to victory."
The man smiled at me—a familiar face, a comrade who fought side by side for eight years.
Aston Raveil.
The man I once called a friend.
I raised my cup. It shimmered red, gleaming in the flickering flames.
The wine tasted acrid, a little bitter. But I drank it all down.
Five seconds later, my heart clenched.
Ten seconds later, my vision blurred.
Twenty seconds later, I saw his face curl into a smile.
"Sorry, Mabel. The royal family doesn't need a holy sword that's so hard to control."
I wanted to draw my sword.
My hands trembled.
The poison tore through my veins like a hot knife.
My breathing was ragged, and I leaned my hand on the table. The wine glass fell to the stone floor, shattering.
"Aston… You… poisoned me?"
He tilted his head.
"No. Just sending someone too loyal to me into a long sleep."
I fell.
Darkness surrounded me like a flood.
The last thing I heard was — not his voice, but a small, gentle voice from far away:
— Mabel… you haven't finished your mission yet…
Then everything went black.
I jumped up.
A sharp pain shot down my spine. I took a deep breath and realized… this wasn't an inn. Not a palace.
I was lying on… a bed?
An overly luxurious room, ivory-colored wooden walls, pale pink curtains hanging down like flower petals.
It took me a few seconds to realize I was breathing.
Alive.
I raised my hand to my chest. A healthy, youthful heartbeat—not my blood-soaked 26-year-old body.
When I looked in the mirror next to the bed, I froze.
A girl of about fourteen, long, pale pink hair as soft as morning clouds. Big, round, sparkling, but red, ruby eyes.
Not me.
"Who… is this?"
Memories rushed in, like water pouring over a dam:
Deuwyn Alyane Endias.
The youngest daughter of the third branch of the Endias family.
And… just killed.
I looked down at my small body. My chest still ached, as if an imaginary knife was stuck in it.
It turned out I wasn't the only one betrayed.
"I died… and was reborn as a girl who was also killed?"
The gods were really funny.
But just as my breathing steadied, the door to the room opened.
A light footstep.
A soft floral scent.
A cream-colored dress fluttering.
Then I saw her.
A woman of about thirty-five years old, her auburn hair loosely tied, her blue eyes as gentle as spring water. She ran over, almost forgetting her aristocratic manners.
"Deuwyn! You're awake! Oh my god… Thank goodness… oh my god, you're awake…"
She hugged me.
A tight hug.
Not like a hug of responsibility.
Nor like a hug to show off in front of others.
But… a hug as if she had lost me and now she had gotten me back.
I froze.
I – a knight accustomed to blood and steel – had never been hugged like that before.
"Do you… hurt anywhere?"
"Is there anything uncomfortable?"
"They said you fell down the stairs, but I know it wasn't… Deuwyn, do you remember who hurt you?"
Her voice was trembling.
I swallowed.
"…Who are you?"
The woman paused for a moment.
Then she let out a small laugh, placing her hand on my cheek.
"I am your aunt Lethia. The aunt of the most pitiful child in the Endias family."
Aunt…
Endias…
I searched Deuwyn's memories and found a faint image of this woman—
The one who was rarely allowed near the girl.
The only one who secretly put cakes in her window.
The only one who dared to oppose her being used as a sacrifice.
No one listened to her, but she still protected her in her own way.
Someone who… truly loved her.
I clutched the blanket tighter.
"Are you… the one who brought me here?"
"Yes. They wanted to hide you in the old room in the west, but I didn't believe them. I brought you back to my room to take care of you myself."
She touched my forehead again, trembling.
"You had a high fever for three days… I thought… I thought I had lost you…"
I felt a lump in my throat.
Mabel – I – had never belonged to anyone.
Knights only had responsibilities, no family.
And Deuwyn… had been treated like an object by the clan.
And yet this woman… cried for me.
I was about to say "I'm fine", but all that came out was:
"…Auntie. No one cares about you but you, right?"
Lethia shook her head immediately, as if afraid I would misunderstand.
"No. There are people who care about you… they just can't express it.
As for the rest of the clan… um… I apologize on their behalf."
I looked deeply into her eyes.
There were no lies.
No political calculations.
For the first time, I saw someone who did not deceive me.
She held my hand, her hand so warm that it startled me.
I looked up. She smiled sadly.
"Deuwyn… Do you know?"
"Since the day you were born, I thought: if your parents don't love you, then I will love them instead."
"I didn't give birth to you… but you are the child I want to protect the most."
I bit my lip.
Suddenly, my eyes were stinging.
I, who died because of betrayal, was being held in the arms of a stranger and saying these words.
No.
Not a stranger anymore.
"…Aunt Lethia."
"Yes?"
I placed my hand on hers.
"I won't let anyone make you cry again."
"I promise."
She smiled through her tears, pressing my forehead to her shoulder.
"You just need to live. That's enough."
No.
Enough for her, but not enough for me.
I will not die again.
And I will not let this woman lose the grandchild she loves the most.
When my aunt went out to call someone to bring porridge, I stood up and took a deep breath.
In Deuwyn's body, I felt something I never had in my old body—
A strange warmth running through my veins.
Not blood.
Not normal magic power.
But the Soul Seal.
White Blood Seal—the essence of the Endias race.
The thing that made them fear this girl enough to kill her.
I opened my hand.
A pinkish-white light flashed.
Different from the holy power I used as a knight.
Softer.
More alive.
And strong in a very… primitive way.
I smiled.
"It seems… she and I both have a reason to return."
The door to the room opened gently.
Aunt Lethia entered, carrying a pleasant herbal scent.
"Deuwyn, would you like to eat something? You're still very weak."
I looked at my aunt—the only person who didn't bring darkness to my memories.
I smiled, softly, but sincerely.
"Yes, aunt."
I had made up my mind.
If fate had brought me here,
then from today—
I would live.
Not like Mabel—the knight waiting to be commanded.
Not like Deuwyn.