Chapter 1
Life Is Unpredictable, and Thus, Living Is…
“…This sucks.”
Sitting alone on the sofa, mulling over the memories of my past life, that was all I could say.
Losing my mother alone was already hard enough, but on top of that, the memories of my previous life that surfaced the moment she died weren’t exactly pleasant. Honestly, I hadn’t been feeling very good these past few days.
I wiggled my feet, which didn’t even touch the floor. Reliving misfortunate memories wasn’t exactly enjoyable, but it couldn’t be helped. There wasn’t much helpful information in my memories as Ahsha, so I had to recall the past to find anything useful.
‘So…’
Before I was born as Ahsha, the only daughter of the proud Grand Duke Rosalind, my name was Beatrice Ricard.
Even then, in terms of bloodline, I wasn’t of significantly lower status than now.
The Ricard dukes were indisputably one of the empire’s most prestigious noble families. From the first duke onward, they had been founding nobles who built the empire alongside the first emperor. Even other dukes bowed before the Ricards—such was their authority.
Beatrice Ricard—myself in my previous life—was the precious, beloved daughter of the duke of the time. I was a late‑born, significantly younger than my only older brother.
Naturally, I should have received all the affection and attention, but reality had other plans.
‘I wasn’t a mage.’
In the empire, a mage was practically another name for nobility. Even commoners who awakened as mages automatically gained the title of knight.
Only mages could purify the mysterious erosion that devoured the land and defeat monsters that appeared in desolate magic zones. In an empire where protecting one’s homeland from such threats was an everyday battle, mages were invaluable—priceless resources.
‘Noble title, cheap. Please don’t leave, mage, stay here. That’s basically it.’
Not far off, my previous-life mother—the Duchess of Ricard—had originally been a commoner. Yet she mastered extraordinary magic and rose to become part of the empire’s most prestigious noble family.
In a country where a commoner could rise to high nobility just by being an exceptional mage, there I was: born a noble, but powerless in magic.
“That Ricard girl still hasn’t awakened her magic?”
“Not at all. Rumor has it she can’t even sense mana.”
“Good heavens! The Ricards are blessed with extraordinary bloodlines. How is that possible?”
“It’s like breeding a stallion and it gives birth to a pig. Half the blood is… lowborn, I guess there’s nothing to be done.”
“If I had a child like that, I’d rather die together with them.”
“Agreed. I don’t know how anyone could hold their head up.”
In a world where magic was called a blessing, my nickname was “the cursed princess.”
Most children awakened to magic before the age of six, sometimes as early as three or four. In the empire, this was described as, “Magic came at midnight and left a gift.”
Though the age varied slightly, no one passed ten without awakening.
By the time I was seven, people had begun to whisper their doubts and concerns about me.
“Has the Ricard girl shown any sign yet?”
“Strange. She was excellent at the mana test at birth, wasn’t she?”
“Not just good—the best. The device even broke during the measurement. So His Majesty had high hopes…”
“She’s only seven. Let’s wait a bit longer. Good news may still come.”
Only magic could effectively strike the erosion monsters. Without it, the world could not survive a single day.
The empire’s first emperor had also been a mage during a prosperous golden age, protecting the land from massive erosion and monster invasions. The empire itself was founded after those mages and nobles safeguarded humanity.
All mages born until now were descendants of the first emperor and founding nobles. In other words, anyone who could not use magic had essentially lost the right to be called a descendant of the emperor and founding nobles.
So every night, I prayed.
“When will magic come to me?”
There was no answer. Year after year passed, and I turned eight.
Desperation grew with every passing day. I knelt every night, repenting for mistakes I didn’t even know I had, begging for just a fragment of magic—even the tiniest scrap.
But I was the girl who never received the gift of magic.
On the most miserable tenth birthday in the world, I cried so much I felt like my eyes might melt away. Afraid of being scolded, I hid and wept alone.
‘I wish… I hadn’t been able to see it.’
Or hear, or speak. I could have limped or not walked at all—it would have been better than being utterly powerless in magic.
For a while after, I still dreamed of a miracle, hoping magic would come. But nothing ever happened. My father finally gave up on me publicly.
“Expecting more from you is pointless. Spending money on useless attempts ends here.”
“Father…!”
I threw myself to the ground, clinging to his legs, begging him not to leave.
“Please, Father, I beg you.”
“Let go.”
“I won’t disappoint you anymore—ugh!”
He jerked his leg away, and I went sprawling, landing in a pitiful heap.
From that day on, people began to ignore me as if they had permission.
“Excuse me, princess, could you step aside? I wouldn’t want your curse to reduce my mana.”
“The duke himself couldn’t do anything, right? Even if she didn’t resemble him, how could anyone deny the bloodline…”
Indeed. I had my family’s dark blue hair and blue eyes. Outwardly, I looked perfectly normal—a noble daughter of the Ricards.
Had it not been for my appearance, I might have been cast out of the family and led another life. But fate left me no alternative.
I could not give up.
At that time, I would try anything that was rumored to help awaken magic.
Of course, my options were limited. My father, having given up on me, cut off all support for my magical awakening.
“Did you know, princess?”
Even knowing it was probably just malicious gossip from another girl my age, I still listened.
“They say if you drink dew under the new moon, it helps strengthen your magic. Maybe if you collect a hundred bottles, you might finally be able to use magic.”
I couldn’t let go of even that straw.
