Hehehe, Ria is My Daughter!

"At least, I hadn't planned on killing you today."

He looked down at me sprawled on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the floor.

"You're quick on the uptake."

The corner of his mouth twitched up ever so slightly.

"My mistake."

I couldn't muster any strength in my fingers pressing against the floor. I tried to force myself up, but my gut, where he'd kicked me, throbbed like it was ripping apart inside.

"You... weren't going to kill me...?"

The words I barely squeezed out came out in a ragged rasp.

Barden didn't answer. Instead, he slowly rolled the crystal orb in his hand.

"You'd be far more useful alive."

"..."

"Seridia treasures you so dearly, after all."

My fingers stiffened at those words.

"It would have been perfect if you'd lived to tell the tale. That I'd helped the family head to the end, and gotten you to safety."

A metallic tang of blood coated the back of my throat. Only then did it all click into place. Why this man had gone out of his way to separate me from the others. Why he'd played the kindly protector, insisting he'd get me to safety.

"So... that's why you needed me?"

Barden looked down at me and let out a short laugh.

"But well, dead works just fine too."

"Just one more poor child killed by the rebels."

Keep me alive, and I'm a perfect witness. Kill me, and I'm a tragic victim. Either way, to him, I was just a single piece on his grand chessboard.

A black light sluggishly rippled inside the crystal orb. Each time it did, my nape stung like it was being seared by fire, and a heavy pulse echoed deep in my body. It felt like that sinister orb was raking its sharp claws over the explosive curse dormant inside me.

"Lucia's resting place is already rigged with an explosive ritual."

My heart seemed to stop at those words.

Lucia's resting place. Where Seridia was headed. Where Elishia was waiting.

"Once Seridia and Elishia are gone together, the family will be left empty."

Barden said it casually, as if commenting on the weather. The black light in the crystal orb churned again.

"The family head and heir, fallen to the rebels."

"I successfully quashed the rebellion, but I was too late to save her."

The corner of Barden's mouth curved faintly upward.

"Then, the only one left standing will be me."

"..."

"That should be enough."

Barden wasn't even looking at me anymore. His victory was already sealed; he gazed down at the crystal orb in his hand with smug satisfaction.

"When my brother died."

He murmured quietly.

"This family should have been mine by right."

It was a short sentence. But in those few words poured out decades of festering inferiority and greed, rotten to the core.

"I'm just putting things back where they belong."

Elishia. Lucia. The tragedy six years ago. Times I knew nothing about collided chaotically in my mind.

Barden tightened his grip on the crystal orb.

"Now, at last, it ends properly."

At last.

That phrase snagged in my ears.

"At last...?"

Only then did Barden look back at me. His eyes regarded me like a child collapsed on the floor. Arrogant eyes that no longer needed to hide ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or hold back.

"It nearly ended back then too."

He sneered mockingly, his laugh short and biting.

"The day Lucia died."

"If Elishia had gone with her, even my sister-in-law would have lost her mind and not lasted much longer."

The day Lucia died. The day Elishia believed she'd let go of her hand. The day Seridia had let go of that hand. Even that day had been part of this man's calculations.

It might not have been Elishia's fault after all.

From the very beginning.

All of it. That entire tragedy.

"It wasn't... Elishia's fault."

The horrified whisper slipped out.

Barden didn't bother responding. He just turned his head indifferently, as if I wasn't worth the effort.

Footsteps echoed from beyond the door. It swung open, and armed knights filed in. Behind them came a robed man, a servant I'd seen a few times, and several others.

They glanced briefly at me on the floor before kneeling on one knee before Barden.

"The mansion's interior has been fully secured."

"The remaining personnel are all gathered inside the annex. Awaiting your command."

Barden didn't reply. He simply looked down at the crystal orb in his hand. The black light within writhed slowly once.

The corner of Barden's mouth lifted faintly.

"The signal came from the tomb as well."

My nape burned like it was scorching away. I didn't know exactly what that meant.

But it was enough.

Seridia and Elishia were there. The ritual had activated.

Now, if this man poured his full mana into the orb, it would all be over.

"We can't afford any more delays."

Barden's icy gaze fixed on me. Every trace of feigned kindness had vanished from his face.

"Kill the girl."

The curt order held no emotion.

The nearest knight drew his sword without hesitation. The blade caught the dim light in the room and gleamed coldly.

The knight stepped toward me. One step. Another.

Black mana began seeping from Barden's fingertips into the crystal orb. The light inside swelled, ready to burst.

I clenched my fists. Mana twisted wildly inside me. The brand on my nape throbbed hotly. A horrific, familiar sensation welled up from deep in my chest.

The one I hated most. The one I'd sworn never to use again, time after time.

The knight raised his sword toward my neck.

Barden watched me and smiled lowly.

"Too late."

In that moment, laughter bubbled up from me. I don't know if my bloodied lips managed a proper curve.

"You're the one who's too late."

Barden's eyebrow twitched faintly.

"When it comes to explosions..."

I didn't hesitate any longer.

"I'm faster."

Elishia sat before the tombstone where Lucia lay sleeping. She'd arrived a bit earlier than the time in the letter and scanned the surroundings, wondering if her mother might already be there. She tidied the white flowers in front of the grave and placed fresh chrysanthemums before the stone engraved with Lucia's name.

Up to that point, everything was fine. She could wait, she thought. Today was Lucia's death anniversary. And this time, she'd said she wanted to go together.

The sun slowly dipped toward the horizon. The breeze brushing her cheek grew chillier. The white chrysanthemum in her hand wilted, drooping without a drop of moisture.

Elishia couldn't bring herself to leave. Past lunchtime. Past evening. Until the shadows around the tomb merged into one.

Her mother never came. Not in the end.

Elishia stared blankly at her hands resting in her lap. Her right hand. The bandaged one. The hand that had let go of Lucia that day.

For so very long, this hand hadn't truly reached anything. Not her mother. Not Lucia. Not even herself.

A rustle came from behind the tomb only after night had fully fallen. Elishia slowly turned her empty gaze. Men in black clothes emerged silently from the shadows of the trees. One drew a sharp blade from his waist. Its bluish edge faintly glinted in the moonlight.

Elishia looked at the sword. Yet she didn't stand. Didn't scream. Didn't run.

Strangely, she felt no surprise, no fear. Ah, she thought, very belatedly. So this is the end.

Her mother hadn't come. There was no reason to wait any longer.

The man took a step closer. Elishia didn't close her eyes. Lucia's tombstone caught in the corner of her vision. Just like that distant day when she'd let go of her hand.

Everything was flowing so slowly.

Then it happened. Rough footsteps pounded from the tomb entrance. The black-clad men whipped their heads around. In the next instant, the frontmost man's body flew sideways. A short ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠scream followed as the black shadow tumbled across the ground.

Elishia slowly raised her head. Swallowing ragged breaths, Seridia stood there.

Seridia couldn't approach right away. She barely registered the black-clad figures retreating or someone fleeing. Her eyes were fixed solely on Elishia.

Elishia was looking at her.

Seridia's heart seemed to stop before that face.

Elishia broke the silence first.

"You came."

Her voice was calm. Dried out, like an empty husk after waiting too long.

Seridia's lips trembled.

"Elishia..."

Elishia didn't reply. She gazed at her mother for a moment, then slowly rose. Her legs wobbled from sitting so long, but she didn't fall.

She bowed her head slowly.

For a long while, the two just faced each other in silence. Seridia's mind went blank white; no words came to her.

Elishia spoke first.

"Mother."

It was a small voice.

"I'm sorry."

Seridia's eyes shook.

"That day... I let go of Lucia's hand."

Elishia looked down at her bandaged right hand.

"I came back alone."

Her lips paled.

"I'm sorry."

Seridia took a step forward, then stopped. No— the words wouldn't come. They caught in her throat, refusing to form properly.

Elishia still hung her head like a criminal.

The child who had returned alone that day, trembling, was frozen right there, unchanged.

Only then did she realize. She wasn't the only one trapped in that tragedy. While she'd clung to her own wounds, Elishia hadn't taken a single step beyond that day either.

Seridia's face twisted.

"No."

Her voice cracked.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

Elishia's shoulders trembled faintly.

Seridia took another step. This time, she didn't flee.

"I'm the one who's sorry."

As the words spilled out, her vision blurred. Still, Seridia pressed on.

"That day."

"And every day after."

"As your mother, I left you alone."

Elishia slowly lifted her head. Her eyes wavered.

"No."

She shook her head.

"I let go of her hand."

Elishia's right hand trembled.

"Lucia was holding on to me."

"I let go."

"That's why... that's why I came back alone."

Seridia's gaze fell to that hand. The bandaged one. The pitiful hand bound for years to that horrific memory.

"I..."

Seridia's voice cracked.

"I didn't hate you."

Elishia's eyes shook.

"It wasn't that I couldn't forgive you."

"And yet I never came to you."

Seridia bit her lip.

"Because seeing your face forced me to confront what I'd done."

"Not you."

"I didn't have the strength to face myself."

"So I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠left you alone."

Elishia's lips quivered.

"Then why..."

Pent-up emotions burst forth like a broken dam.

"Why didn't you ever come? Not even once."

Seridia had no answer.

"If you didn't hate me that much."

Elishia's voice grew unsteady.

"If letting go of Lucia's hand wasn't unforgivable."

Tears she'd held back streamed down her cheeks.

"Why did you leave me so alone?"

Seridia's hand trembled in the air.

"I wanted to say it too."

Elishia continued through her sobs.

"I'm sorry."

"I was scared."

"That day, I didn't want to let go of Lucia either."

Her words crumbled at the end.

"But I was afraid seeing me would hurt you more."

"Afraid that looking at me would remind you of the day I came back alone."

"So I couldn't come."

Seridia offered no excuses. Not because she had none. Because she finally understood. Any words she spoke now would always come too late for this child. Later than the time she'd swallowed alone. Later than the breath she'd waited all day at this tomb.

"I'm sorry."

Seridia said it again. No other words would come.

"I'm truly sorry, Elishia."

Elishia bit her lip hard to stifle the sobs bursting out. But she couldn't hold back; she covered her face with both hands.

The crying broke free. She tried to muffle it, but her shoulders shook. Her breaths shattered. The body that had endured alone for years began crumbling right there.

Seridia slowly reached out a hand. Then stopped. Just like before. Right before touching.

Through the gaps in her hands over her face, Elishia saw it. Her mother's right hand. The hand that had struck her. And now, trembling helplessly, able to do nothing.

Elishia's fingertips moved slowly. Her bandaged, scarred right hand.

After a long hesitation.

Very carefully, she placed her hand atop Seridia's.

Seridia's heart pounded as if it would stop. The touching hands were ice-cold. Like two people who'd been alone too long. Like people who'd forgotten how to hold on.

The two clung to their joined hands and wept there for a long time.

From afar, a faint commotion sounded. Only then did Seridia raise her head. She realized it wasn't over yet.

Ria.

Ria was still back at the mansion.

Barden was with her. It would be fine. He'd promised to take her somewhere safe.

It had to be fine.

Yet an inexplicable chill crept over her. Clutching Elishia's hand tightly, Seridia turned.

"Let's go."

Her voice still held moisture, but resolve burned through it.

"We need to get back to the mansion quickly."

Elishia nodded without a word.

The two left Lucia's tomb behind. As they exited, Seridia quietly spoke.

"Elishia."

Elishia looked at her mother with still-wet eyes.

"When we get back... there's a child I want to introduce you to."

"A child?"

"Yes."

Seridia's voice trembled slightly.

"A child... I've hurt so deeply."

Silver hair, cropped short and brushing her cheek as it trembled. Unwavering eyes that wouldn't back down despite the shaking. A small face that had pushed open the firmly shut door and looked straight at her to the end.

If not for that child, she never would have come today. Even knowing Elishia was waiting. Even after Elishia reached out first with courage.

She would have hidden behind the excuse of fear to the end.

Ria had pulled her from that mire. With her wounded face. With her scattered, severed hair.

Will you regret it again after it's too late this time? That voice still rang clearly in her ears.

When they returned, that child would be there. Pretending everything was fine, saying she was okay. Maybe awkwardly touching her shortened hair, forcing a smile.

Seridia would have to bow her head first before that face.

Apologize. Tell her she finally understood what she'd done. That she'd tied her hair without asking if she liked it. That she'd ignored the possibility she might leave and held on. That even knowing it made her uncomfortable, she'd pretended not to notice and clung anyway.

That she hadn't truly seen her. That she'd placed her in Lucia's empty seat and mistaken it for care.

Apologize first. And if she wanted, let her go freely without regret.

But if—truly, if—she permitted it.

This time, not as anyone's replacement. Not to fill the void of her dead daughter.

Could Ria—as her complete self—stay by her side? She would ask carefully.

Could she become her new daughter? Her adopted daughter?

Elishia too... might smile beautifully when she met her.

Seridia held Elishia's hand a little more gently. The sky was dark, the wind cold.

Yet Seridia walked straighter than before.

When we get back, apologize. Ask her. This time, don't be late.

Even as she thought it, her steps quickened.

Barden was with her, so it would be fine. It had to be.

But when they arrived at the mansion.

The annex where Ria had stayed.

The place where she'd entrusted that child to Barden.

It was engulfed in crimson flames, already collapsed into a pile of pitch-black ashes.