Episode 5
Rumors about the Grand Ducal House of Calix were truly astounding.
Some even said the price of their power was a pact with demons—that their pitch-black hair and eyes darker than blood were the mark of souls sold to the devil.
Perhaps that was because, beyond their distinctive, almost uncanny looks passed down through the Calix line, their excellence in martial skill and intellect was extraordinary.
Even I, who had only ever heard of them by rumor, felt a strange sense of wonder now that I stood face-to-face with them.
Before my regression, even the Grand Duke of Calix himself was rarely seen well enough for people to recognize his face.
While he accumulated countless achievements, he would don a specter’s mask and cut down his enemies.
Naturally, thanks to the mask, with its demonic horns and terrifying visage, his enemies learned to fear him.
And now—me, the granddaughter of the Grand Duke of Calix?
One would hardly guess any connection to the Calix family from my appearance alone.
So it was only natural that it felt unbelievable that I was a descendant of this house.
At least, until I saw the man before me—the one who was said to be my father.
“Rob, come here. I want to hold you.”
His thin arms opened toward me with effort, reaching out, but he looked terribly fragile.
His black hair was dry and lifeless, his cheeks sunken with exhaustion, and there was no color to be found in his face.
Unlike the Grand Duke of Calix’s confident and striking features, this man’s countenance was exceedingly gentle.
Propped half-upright against the bed, his body looked like that of a living corpse, drained of strength.
Our eyes met—his and mine.
Eyes the same pink as mine.
Why did he have the same eye color as I did? What did that mean?
Even without anyone explaining it, the heavy air pressing down on us made everything clear.
He was the one who, before my regression, had already died—Raymon, heir of the Grand Ducal House of Calix.
Even as his trembling arm still reached out to me and I found myself unable to take a single step forward, a gentle pat on my shoulder told me to be at ease.
That gave me courage; without realizing it, I took one step, then another.
Before I knew it, his slender arms wrapped around me, warmth enclosing me.
As that unfamiliar warmth filled my whole body, the realization engraved itself in my mind—this was my father.
“When you were just born, I held you once. I never imagined I would get to hold you again like this. You won’t recognize me, but I am your father.”
“…….”
Even though I said nothing, he continued speaking.
“I’ve heard what happened. If only I had woken earlier… I’m sorry.”
I lifted my head and looked at his face. He looked at me with a sorrowful smile.
Cough, cough.
Suddenly, a harsh cough tore through him; his breathing turned labored and he pressed a handkerchief to his mouth.
A metallic tang wafted from the cloth. The Grand Duke of Calix promptly swept me into his arms. He seemed familiar with scenes like this; he didn’t even look flustered.
“I’ll take you to your room.”
As he carried me out, I saw someone who looked to be the personal physician hurrying toward the man called my father.
“Do not worry. Now, things will surely be all right. You have come to us. Parents draw courage when they look upon their child.”
To me, that sounded like nonsense.
Aside from my maternal grandfather, “family” had meant nothing but enemies.
Holding me, the Grand Duke walked down a long corridor and stopped at a door. A servant with bowed head opened it.
“This will be your room from now on.”
It was far grander than the room I’d had in the baron’s household.
The chamber alone felt as large as several rooms put together.
Above the fireplace was carved a great golden lion emblem, and all around stood elegant, antique furnishings that exuded dignity. The well-appointed room felt warm and cozy.
“This used to be my wife’s room. Which would make her your grandmother.”
There was a faint loneliness in his voice. The hush was broken by a neat, composed voice.
“Honored young lady. Please call me Basha.”
Basha looked to be in her thirties. With a kind expression and neatly coiled brown hair, she carried herself with quiet poise.
At last, the Grand Duke set me down. Behind Basha, the maids lined up and greeted me one by one.
Even though my replies were curt and bare, they answered with gentle smiles.
The Grand Duke addressed Basha.
“Attend to Loblien with utmost care. Do not neglect her in the slightest.”
She answered with a resolute expression.
“I will serve her to the best of my ability.”
The Grand Duke looked at me and smiled. This time, it was my turn to offer a proper bow.
“Thank you, Grandfather.”
My greeting delighted him greatly. For some reason, a prick of conscience tugged at me.
I had, after all, made a point of pleasing him.
Basha approached and asked politely:
“Would you like your meal first, or would you prefer to bathe?”
“May I eat in my room?”
Basha glanced back and signaled with her eyes to a freckled maid. The maid stepped out. Basha came closer, bent her knees, and brought her eyes level with mine.
“My lady, please speak comfortably.”
I met her gaze. Then, perhaps deliberately, Basha lowered her head just a little. I took her hand and said:
“I’ll be in your care.”
Basha smiled warmly and answered:
“Yes, my lady. And I will be in yours.”
Thus began my first day in the Grand Ducal House of Calix.
It was a time before dawn, when all were asleep. As I had done in my life as the relic’s guardian before my regression, I rose from bed.
I opened the window, gazed once at the gentle moonlight, then knelt on the cold floor and folded my hands together.
“Loblien, guardian of the sacred relic, offers a prayer of thanks to God. Today as well, without a shadow of doubt, I will walk the path You show. As You have granted me the chance for vengeance, I will not hesitate but advance.”
My body was still that of a child, untrained; my legs went numb and I shivered with cold.
“Allowing me to meet my father is also Your grace; I will follow Your will.”
When the prayer ended and my body swayed with weakness, old memories surfaced.
Life as the designated successor had not been easy. My grandfather wanted me to become a perfect guardian of the relic.
I had thought that only natural.
If my body trembled during prayer like now, the whip would fall.
I had to endure the pain of my back splitting open under lash after lash.
When I lay collapsed, swallowing my groans despite the immense pain, my grandfather would look down at me and say, in a detached voice:
“This is not pain. It is merely the process of becoming a guardian. Only if you endure it well will you truly become the guardian of the sacred relic.”
Through daily training like that, pain eventually stopped feeling like pain.
Just as Grandfather said, I believed that was the very path to becoming a true guardian.
When that training was over, the priest in residence at the White Ducal House would heal me.
Those were days of pain and endurance repeated every day.
Only after years had passed did my grandfather finally acknowledge me as the true guardian of the relic.
And only after that recognition was I first allowed to step into the place where the relic rested.
On the day I first prayed before the relic, God answered my call.
I pushed the memory from my mind and rubbed my numb legs.
When, after some time, my legs would move again, I stood—
to close the window I’d left open.
I walked toward the window, quieting my steps—and saw a shadow.
“Wh-who’s there?”
I hurried to shut the window when a hand suddenly thrust in and covered my mouth before I could scream.
Mmph!
“Shh. Don’t be afraid.”
He entered the room with his hand still over my mouth.
I struggled to cry out anyway, but he pressed me down by force. He must have been holding back; it didn’t hurt.
“Don’t. I don’t want to hurt you. I was only on my way to Johann’s room. I’m sorry—I must have frightened you.”
The grip on my wrist slowly loosened. With the hand he’d freed, I snatched at the black cloth covering the intruder’s face. I saw his face—and for a moment, lost the power of speech.
No way…
“Shh! Sorry. I suppose the mask made it worse. If you don’t scream, I’ll let go. It’ll be trouble if Johann wakes.”
I blinked. He removed the hand covering my mouth.
“I’m sorry. Johann is a friend of mine. I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re the sister he’s so proud of, right?”
If the man speaking was the Crown Prince, then the “Johann” he mentioned had to be the young lord of the House of Calix. He and I shared a father but had different mothers.
The ill-fated Grand Duchess who died bearing Johann Calix.
Was it from that time…?
That rumor began to spread: “Any who become entangled with the House of Calix meet death.”
Johann was away on duty as an imperial knight, so I had not yet met him. I nodded to the intruder for now.
He brushed back his fallen golden hair. His bright golden eyes searched my complexion.
“You look really startled. I suppose you would be.”
“I-I’m all right.”
The Crown Prince scratched his head, fumbling for an excuse.
“My plan was to sneak in after Johann fell asleep and take back something that was stolen. Then I heard your prayer and, before I knew it… Anyway, I’m sorry to have frightened you.”
He truly seemed at a loss, as if he honestly felt sorry.
But the reason for my shock was something else entirely.
Because the man before me was the Crown Prince I had killed before my regression.
