Chapter 03
“Truth is, someone’s already offered to take this girl in. Promised a heap of money, too. But if you’re willing to pay more, well… we might be able to talk—”
“You—are you her foster father or just a merchant looking to trade?”
“N-no, that’s not what I meant…”
“Silence. I’ve no wish to hear another filthy word from that mouth.”
The man’s cold, razor-edged voice cut the foster father off. Then he turned back to the girl.
“You haven’t answered me yet. Are you Danae?”
His tone was a world apart from the way he’d just barked at the foster father—polite and formal, every word laced with respect.
Under the unexpected courtesy of a nobleman, Danae’s already-tense shoulders hunched even more.
“Yes, I’m Danae.”
“Your father’s name is Linte, and your mother’s name is Kali, correct?”
Danae’s eyes went wide at the sound of her parents’ names on this stranger’s lips.
“How do you know that?”
“Of course I know. I’ve searched long and hard for you.”
“For me? Why?”
“Well…”
A faint smile softened the man’s icy features, and Danae found her own mouth falling open in surprise.
“Violet eyes.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s not a color just anyone can have.”
Danae knew her eye color was unusual. No one in this village—or among the travelers who passed through the inn—had eyes like hers. Only her late father had shared the same shade.
“But I was born this way.”
“Exactly. Because you are the granddaughter of Grand Duke Ashinoff.”
“The Grand Duke Ashinoff’s granddaughter?”
Even a girl tucked away in a rural corner had heard that name. She’d caught it from mercenaries passing through the empire. They called the Ashinoffs “monsters.” Even those rough warriors who bragged about their own strength would shrink when speaking the name, shoulders drawn tight.
She remembered the fear in their eyes.
Mercenaries—so fierce and terrifying in her own—were afraid of someone even greater?
“You must be mistaken. I’m just Danae. My parents were perfectly ordinary. There’s nothing great or special about me.”
“It’s only natural you’d believe that, raised in a place like this.”
The man clicked his tongue, displeased as he glanced around the shabby inn. Each time his gaze left her, his eyes turned cold again.
“But you’ll soon learn just how extraordinary you are. Please, allow me to escort you to the Ashinoff estate. This place is no home for you.”
“Who… who says you can just take Danae away!”
Robin, who had been listening in, dragged Danae toward him despite trembling.
“Danae is my daughter! You can’t take her without my consent!”
“You are not her father, merchant. Take your filthy hands off her.”
“Sh-she’s not going anywhere with you! Not without my permission! Right, Danae?”
He leaned close and hissed in her ear, “If you don’t answer properly, you’ll get the stick again. Got it?”
Danae’s brow creased at the threat. Her foster father often beat her—for not listening, for being lazy, for sneaking food—always with some excuse, always with a club as thick as her arm.
Again.
The knight’s expression grew even frostier as he read the resignation on her face.
“A stick? Don’t tell me you’ve struck the young lady.”
“Eek!”
Robin’s whispered threat hadn’t escaped the knight’s sharp hearing. At that fierce glare, Robin flinched and let go of Danae’s clothes.
“N-no, I—”
“Lies.”
Before Robin could finish, the man clicked his tongue and kicked him. A light kick was enough to send Robin sprawling across the floor.
The knight stared at the groaning man and asked Danae gently, “Where did he hit you?”
“W-what?”
“Where on your body did he beat you?”
“My… my legs, my back, and… and my head…”
Still dazed, she answered his question. Without a word, the man hefted a large water jug and slammed it down on the very spots she’d named—right onto Robin.
“Argh! Stop! Aaagh!”
Dull thuds and Robin’s screams echoed through the room.
Wow…
So this is what people mean by “beat him like a dog.”
When the knight was done turning Robin into a crumpled heap, he turned back to Danae with a gentle smile, hand outstretched.
“Shall we go, my lady?”
But on the carriage ride to the Ashinoff estate, we were attacked by raiders.
In the chaos, the carriage plunged into a lake. She thrashed desperately, but not knowing how to swim, she only sank deeper.
At that brink of life and death, a flood of memories awoke—as if it were all a lie until now.
Memories of a previous life.
Of an ordinary citizen wrongfully killed as a supposed Demon King.
Past-life memories intertwined with those of her current life.
How curious. My name was Danae then, and it’s Danae now.
Indeed—she had been “Danae” in both her past and present lives.
The dual memories tangled, leaving her mind in a haze.
“Uhh…”
A faint groan escaped her lips, startling the men nearby.
“Danae, does your head hurt?”
“What’s wrong? Pain? I knew that quack was useless! Said she was fine—what if she croaks before the old man even arrives?”
“Seriously. Shouldn’t we at least call that quack back? She’s pale as a sheet.”
Their noisy fussing only made her already-spinning head throb harder.
“Excuse me!”
At her sharp cry, the men fell silent.
“By the way… who exactly are you?”
Who are these people making such a fuss?
The three men exchanged looks. Then the dark-haired one smiled.
“Mm. We’re your brothers, Danae.”
Brothers?
“I’m Lucas. Those two are Baratheon and Sishé.”
The golden-haired twins pouted at Lucas’s introduction.
“Why do you get to introduce us?”
The larger, rougher-voiced twin stepped forward first.
“Hey, kid. I’m Baratheon. That’s Sishé. We’re twins, but we’re easy to tell apart. I’m the strong one, he’s the weakling.”
“Who’s a weakling, you idiot?”
Sishé ground his teeth and kicked at Baratheon’s shin, but Baratheon just snorted and dodged.
“See? You are—ouch!”
Sishé smacked the back of Baratheon’s head, triumphant, then turned to Danae.
“See that? He’s a dummy. You can just ignore him.”
Danae stared at the noisy trio in confusion. Her parents had never once mentioned any other siblings.
Perhaps sensing her doubt, the calmest of the three, Lucas, added, “We’re not blood brothers. We were all adopted.”
“Adopted?”
“Yeah. The Grand Duke took us in after seeing our talents.”
“Oh.”
Lucas’s words brought up the name she’d been wondering about.
“About the Grand Duke… the knight who brought me said I’m his granddaughter…”
“The old man will explain that himself,” Lucas said.
“Old man?”
“Grand Duke Ashinoff. Your grandfather,” Baratheon clarified with a shrug.
“He’s in the capital right now, but he’ll be back soon. We sent word we’d found you.”
“But I might not be his granddaughter at all.”
