03 – The Rewound Villainess Reflects
I remained seated on my bed, lost in thought.
To begin with, the reason I had wanted to become the Crown Prince’s consort was simple.
Even without magic, I wanted to prove that I was a proper noble lady.
I wanted to silence those who mocked me—decisively, beyond any argument.
At the very top of all nobility stands the king.
And if I were to become the wife of the Crown Prince, the man destined to become that king, then everyone would have no choice but to kneel before me—no matter how much they looked down on me.
For someone like me, who possessed no magic, there was no other way to prove my worth.
And yet, in the end, that wish—to become the Crown Prince’s consort—never came true.
I could never prove my worth.
Because I had none to begin with.
My first life existed only to make me realize that.
Then what is this second life?
Why has this impossible rewind been granted to me?
Is it so that I can succeed this time in becoming the Crown Prince’s consort?
To completely deceive the Crown Prince, eliminate the other candidates, and ensure that I alone am chosen?
How ridiculous.
I already experienced in my first life how that would end—in failure, with nothing to show for it.
In the end, someone without magic like me can never become anything.
And the more I try to become something, the more harm I bring.
That is the fate of someone born with nothing.
But if that’s the case… then why was my life rewound?
If I truly have nothing, then I should have simply died as I did in my first life.
What is this second life that should not exist?
What am I meant to do with it?
As my thoughts spiraled this far, my head began to feel as though it were boiling over.
At that moment, there was another knock at the door.
I thought Noa had come to check on me again—but before I could respond, the door opened, and I realized I was wrong.
No servant would enter without waiting for my reply.
Only someone of higher standing in this house would do that.
And the only person above me…
“Father.”
Standing beyond the open door was a man in his early thirties.
He wore a perfectly fitted suit, yet his expression was somehow clouded.
Seeing him like this… he looks young.
Of course—this is ten years in the past.
The father I saw in my previous life, the day before my execution, had looked far older than this.
Not just ten years—twenty, even thirty years older.
That wasn’t simply age.
It must have been the weight of exhaustion—of mind and body.
…And then I gave a bitter smile.
Of course.
The cause of his suffering… was me.
Noticing my smile, Father frowned in displeasure.
“Elto.”
He called my name.
“Elto” was a shortened form of my full name—Eltriede Eldenvalk. It was only natural for family to use such a nickname.
“I heard you were unwell, yet you seem perfectly fine. Sitting there absentmindedly, not even lying down—and even smiling, of all things.”
There was a sharp edge in his voice.
That was only natural.
It was obvious that Father found me burdensome.
His life as a duke, which should have been smooth and prosperous, had been thrown into disarray because I was born.
“How long do you intend to remain in your nightclothes? Breakfast is ready. If you’re not sick, then hurry, eat, and prepare yourself. Your magic instructor will be arriving soon.”
Ah, that’s right.
At this age—around ten—I was still studying magic with a private tutor at the estate.
Back then, unable to accept reality, I believed that if I tried hard enough—even to the point of coughing up blood—I would eventually be able to use magic.
That was why I had been assigned the finest magic tutor in the country.
In those days, I trained every single day without fail. Even if I caught a cold or ran a fever, I never once took a break.
And the conclusion I reached after all that effort was simple:
There is such a thing as pointless effort.
“What is it? Not going to say anything? Then shall I cancel today’s lesson? Perhaps it would be better to abolish it altogether.”
As I said nothing, Father continued speaking unilaterally.
He must have struggled greatly because of me.
The Duke of Eldenvalk—one of the most powerful noble houses in the country, with a long history and countless great mages in its lineage.
And yet, from such a house, I was born without a single trace of magic.
That was nothing but disgrace.
Because of me, our family was shunned by other nobles.
Every time we appeared in public, we became the subject of ridicule.
It wasn’t just me—I had inflicted that humiliation upon my entire family.
In my previous life, the day before my execution, Father came to see me through the bars of my cell one last time.
He looked far older than he does now, utterly worn down.
And he said quietly:
—“I raised you wrong.”
At the time, I was deeply hurt.
In the end, even he had never acknowledged me.
But now, having returned to the age of ten, I can reflect on those words differently.
It was I who had caused my parents suffering.
If someone like me—such a failure—had never been born, both Father and Mother could have lived peaceful lives.
By now, their relationship must already be cold.
Because I was born without magic, Mother had been suspected of infidelity.
And yet, for the sake of appearances, they could not divorce, and so they remained a couple in name only.
In my previous life, I believed that if I rose to become the Crown Prince’s consort, I could become a daughter my parents could be proud of.
But that, too, only brought them more suffering.
As I recalled the pained expression I saw through the iron bars that night, Father continued speaking in front of me.
“What is it? Why won’t you answer? …Are you truly unwell? Then perhaps we should cancel your magic lessons after all—!”
“Yes, I think we should stop them.”
“—What?”
Caught off guard by my sudden reply, Father fell silent.
“Not just for today. From tomorrow onward as well, there’s no need for the magic tutor to come anymore… I’ve already understood well enough that I have no magic.”
“W-What has gotten into you all of a sudden?”
My change in attitude must have shocked him—his voice wavered.
“Are you truly giving up on magic? You were so determined, saying you would master it no matter what.”
Of course he would say that.
If his daughter could use magic, that would solve everything.
But I cannot meet that expectation.
I learned that in my previous life.
“Some things simply cannot be done, no matter how hard one tries… I’ve come to realize that, albeit belatedly.”
“I… see…”
Still unable to fully process the situation, Father faltered.
But as a duke, he quickly regained his composure.
“…Very well. It is your decision, so I will respect it. I will inform the tutor myself.”
Somewhere in his heart, he must feel relieved.
After all, no matter how much I trained, someone without magic could never use it.
To avoid further disgrace, he must have wished for me not to make a spectacle of myself.
“However, Eltriede—you were born into the Duke of Eldenvalk’s house. You understand the duties of a noble. In this country, those who cannot use magic are not recognized as nobles.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“You, for some reason, were born into this house without magic. And now that you are abandoning all efforts to acquire it, you must decide how you will live accordingly.”
I know.
In truth, if someone like me—without magic—were born into a noble house, it wouldn’t be strange if they were disposed of as soon as it was discovered.
Even so, I should be grateful that I was raised as a daughter until now, despite being resented.
No… not just until now.
For the next ten years—until the day I committed my mistakes and paid for them with my life—my parents never stopped being my parents.
It was I who caused them suffering.
Because I refused to give up.
“A daughter who cannot use magic has no right to be a noble. I understand that well. I will leave this house at once.”
“What!?”
Father froze mid-sentence.
“What are you saying!? Why would it come to that!? It’s true that other nobles will not acknowledge someone without magic—but that’s precisely why—!”
“I have no right to remain in this house. No… in the House of Eldenvalk itself. The fact that I was allowed to stay this long was strange to begin with.”
“That’s not—! No, what will you do after leaving!? The world is not so kind that a child like you can survive alone!”
“I will enter a monastery.”
Among the monasteries where followers of the gods gather, there are some that take in and isolate problematic nobles.
I am still, technically, of noble birth.
And my inability to use magic is a significant problem.
If I make the proper arrangements, there should be a place willing to accept me.
Foolish as I was, I only realized this after I died once.
What I should have done was not force the world to acknowledge me as a noble by any means necessary.
It was to leave a world that would never accept me—
as soon as possible.
