Issol woke up with her face wet with tears. She took the shawl given to her by Fuer and wiped them away, but her eyes seemed to water even more. She sighed and wiped at them again.
It had been three days since she had lived instead of dying, and she had been waking up like this every day, either in tears or from nightmares of her past lives.
She sank immediately into depression, frustration weighing heavily on her as her brows knitted deeply, as though she were trying to solve a puzzle that had no answer. Even with a second chance at life, nothing had improved. She still had not met her family, though it was not as if she had any expectations of them.
But really?
Couldn't there be at least a little change, like a change of room at least, she mused.
Yet she still had no escape from this wretched chapter of her life.
Why she had been reborn into this body remained a mystery to her, just like the countless lives she had lived before. She wondered bitterly, smiling in self-deprecation, if this was meant to be her last chance at life.
Her supposed parents had always valued her male brothers more, according to what she had overheard during the maids' gossip. Everyone wondered why they now favored this daughter so much—the daughter who was cherished even by her brothers could only be her one and only twin, Issel.
Unfortunately, she was the other twin.
The one neglected, schemed against, starved by the maids, and accused of wanting to steal everything that belonged to her sister, including their parents' love. Something that should have belonged to her, too.
How ridiculous and illogical human hearts could be. They were capable of seeing the truth clearly and still turning it into a lie without even a prick of conscience.
With all the accusations piled upon her, her parents refused to allow her into their sight, claiming she was inconsiderate and incapable of accommodating her younger sister.
Not that they wanted to see her anyway. They seemed to find her appearance unsightly.
All of this only worsened her situation.
The only fortune she had gained from all her past suffering was Fuer. The maid who stayed with her, took care of her, and fed her.
She had even given her what she had lacked in her past lives.
Company while dying.
After pondering for a long time, Issol's stomach began to grumble. This was a child's body after all. How could she not be hungry?
She was extremely bony, her face sallow from malnutrition and lingering illness. Her gaze drifted involuntarily toward the door, expecting Fuer's presence and whatever food she might bring.
She sat up properly in anticipation and arranged herself as she waited.
Time passed.
When it was nearly noon, and Fuer still had not come, disappointment settled in her chest. Then worry followed quickly after. Fuer was not someone who would leave her hungry, not after fussing over her for the past three days.
Something was wrong.
Issol decided to look for her.
She was not a prisoner, after all. She could still move about.
She wandered unsteadily through the halls, searching for Fuer. This side of the house was unfamiliar to her. She had been moved here after being diagnosed as terminally ill, supposedly to recuperate.
She walked for so long that she eventually realized she was lost.
Then she heard it.
A pained moan echoed from the end of a narrow corridor to her right.
Issol froze.
The sound dragged up painful memories from her past lives, cold sweat breaking out across her skin. For a moment, she almost gave up on looking for Fuer and her hunger altogether.
At a loss, she looked down at her frail body and decided against intruding in other people's affairs.
What good could it bring her anyway?
Unfortunately, luck was not on her side.
The next sound was sharper, filled with pain, and unmistakably familiar.
It sounded like Fuer.
Issol looked toward the corridor in shock and began moving toward the sound unconsciously. She only realized what she was doing when she had gotten close enough. Quickly, she hid behind a pillar, her small shadow swallowed by it.
"Do you think you're a favored maid?" a shrill voice scolded. "Just because the First Young Master asked you to take care of that castaway burden, you think you're above us?"
A slap followed.
The person kneeling on the ground was Fuer.
"So you see yourself above us now?"
Another slap.
Issol's chest tightened.
And so the castaway was her.
Who else could it be?
What puzzled her most was why her eldest brother would care enough to ask someone to look after her.
Her thoughts were interrupted by another voice, sharp and familiar. She recognized it instantly.
Loün.
The maid she had hated for as long as she could remember.
"She wants to climb his bed," Loün sneered, "but doesn't even know her place."
The other maids laughed, but the sound was cut short when the first maid turned sharply towards Fuer again.
"What did you just say, bitch?"
Her hand lifted again.
Before it could land, Issol stepped forward.
She moved to stand in front of Fuer, her small body instinctively shielding her.
The maids screamed and scrambled backward, retreating into a corner.
All except Loün and the first maid.
Issol lifted her head to face them. Her gaze lingered briefly on the maid standing beside Loün. She did not look like a servant at all, but more like a pampered lady. Beautiful. Clearly favored.
Her brother's chosen companion maid it seems.
Loün's voice intruded again, dripping with mockery.
"What do we have here?" she said. "The abandoned dog coming to the rescue?"
She laughed harshly.
"Maybe they're both whores."
The maids laughed again, but the sound died abruptly.
Issol's face was completely expressionless.
Her mismatched eyes were cold—too cold for a child.
Though they bullied her and regarded her as a powerless, worthless miss, someone even lower than the lowest servant, they had always feared her eyes.
Not because she spoke.
Not because she threatened.
But because when she looked at someone, it felt as though she was seeing something far beyond the present—something they could not understand, and did not want turned on them for long.
The corridor fell silent.