The Sleeping Devil

Surprisingly, the carriage ride was peaceful.

"I am Sergio Beriard, the head of the Beriard family. I am your father, and your mother is no longer with us. She passed away after giving birth. But don't worry, my mansion, where we're heading, has my wife and son, so you won't be lonely."

Sergio speaks cheerfully, but his adult face is completely untrustworthy.

Due to his thoughtless and detailed explanations, I couldn't even look out the window at the outside world, despite it being my first time.

"Will they both accept me?"

"It's impossible, I'm afraid. She's very jealous, you see. And Didier has grown a bit too much."

"I see."

I'm what they call a bastard child. As a child taken in as a mistress's child, there's no way I would be accepted by the legal wife and her son.

In particular, the Beriard lineage has strong family bonds and attachments due to their bloodline characteristics.

On the other hand, they were merciless and indifferent to outsiders. It would have been better if they had remained indifferent. In fact, being of interest to them would be more troublesome.

Since I cannot be accepted as a family member, it's only natural that I would be disliked as an unwanted intruder in their home.

While feeling anxious, we arrived at a castle that could easily be mistaken for a world heritage site rather than a mansion.

It was already deep into the night, quite late.

The surroundings were pitch black, and I could only sense the air of the outside world, which was a bit disappointing. Nevertheless, I had enough composure to think that it's a shame I couldn't fully experience the outside world.

Surprisingly, Sergio, my father, lifted me up, and I got off the carriage without touching the ground.

"Welcome back, Lord Sergio. Master Dior and Young Master Didier are waiting for you."

Carried in his arms, we passed through a grand entrance and made our way through the castle.

It was like a luxurious and incredibly spacious art museum I had visited in my past life.

"Ahaha, there are some childlike aspects to you, after all."

I looked around nervously and felt a bit embarrassed, so I lowered my gaze.

Well, isn't it normal for a three-year-old?

We stopped in front of a certain door, and a servant quietly opened it. Inside, there was a moderately decorated room with a comfortable sofa and a table.

And there sat a woman with a beautiful face contorted in anger, and a boy of around ten years old.

"Welcome back."

Without even a proper introduction, my prospective stepmother, Dior, stared at me with eyes filled with murderous intent.

"What is the meaning of this? Bringing in a slave. And with this kind of hair... What on earth is this?"

"She's not a slave. She's my child."

Without any remorse, Sergio, my father, retorted, causing her to flare up even more, her fiery red hair disheveled as she raised her eyebrows.

"Wha... What did you say!? How did you manage to bring in a child of such color? What happened to the other woman? I'll kill her..."

"The mother of this child passed away shortly after giving birth, so it's per-fect-ly fine. Three years ago, this child and her wet nurse were attacked by bandits on their way to our house and went missing. See? Isn't it pitiful? So, I desperately searched for her and finally bought her back."

While I'm not sure what exactly is "fine," at least that's the explanation.

With that, one mystery was solved, and Sheriel felt a sense of relief.

"...So, what are you going to do with this child?"

"We will raise her here as our own."

"I absolutely refuse to accept that!"

A piercing pain shot through my chest, making it hard to breathe.

With a soft thud, I found myself hidden beneath Sergio's robe, and the pain quickly subsided. It seems I managed to avoid cardiac arrest somehow.

Please, spare me. Wouldn't I die normally? Is it really fine? In the dream, I should have thirteen more years to live...

"Now, now, please calm down. Dior, didn't you also express a desire for a daughter?"

"But that doesn't mean I'm okay with this! I can't accept a child born of another woman..."

...That's true.

Anyone would get angry if an illegitimate child suddenly appeared. Moreover, with strange hair color and odd memories. I remember she was incredibly jealous.

I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her, who seemed like she could blow herself to pieces at any moment.

"Mother, it's not a big deal, is it? Lords having mistresses and children is not an uncommon story. Even if it's unusual for our family."

Nonchalantly smiling, my supposed older brother Didier, with his lavender hair loosely tied, spoke up.

His suspicious smile and unruly hair must resemble Sergio. He seemed to be enjoying this situation.

Even though Didier should understand that such things are not tolerated precisely because it's the Beriard family.

This is bad. Will I experience my fourth death tonight?

"Um... Can I, uh, introduce myself?"

Suddenly, all eyes turned to the little girl who started speaking.

"Nice to meet you, my name is Sheriel. Um... I'll make sure not to be a bother, so please take care of me."

Didier's eyes sparkled even more, while Dior's hatred grew stronger.

...Oh no, this is bad. I messed up.

"Wow, she's definitely a member of the family. Seems like she understands the current situation well. And she's clearly cursed," Didier laughed gleefully as if he had found a new toy.

Despite only being around ten years old, his gaze chilled me, as if he could see through everything.

"Be quiet! I will never accept you!"

While she acknowledged my Beriard lineage, it seems that Dior, my foster mother, despised me even more.

Will I be able to wake up safely tomorrow?

"This is troublesome, isn't it? With this hair color, if you were to become a slave, you would surely be treated poorly. How pitiful, isn't it?"

Sergio's appeal, devoid of any sense of sympathy, seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

The heated exchange continued for a while, but eventually, the discussion was cut short because it was getting late. I was then escorted by a maid to a different room.

After turning several corners in the corridor and reaching a place I couldn't have found on my own, an old door opened.

The room was cleaned immaculately, as if it knew I was coming. There was a small bed and a table set, all neatly arranged.

"Miss, I apologize, but please make use of this room for a while."

"What a lovely room! A soft mattress... it's been so long... the first time..."

I sincerely enjoyed my new room.

Compared to sleeping in wooden boxes for the past three years, this room felt like heaven. Maybe the facilities of my previous life, where science was more advanced, would have been better, but this mansion, which could be described as a castle, was unbelievably luxurious.

"Miss... I apologize for asking, but where have you been staying until now? As someone who will be taking care of you from now on, I would like to know some details," the maid asked.

Still not accustomed to being called "Miss," I tried to hide my discomfort by indulging in the soft cotton futon on the bed I was given.

"I used to live with the children in a place about half the size of this room. There were about ten of us. We didn't have futons, only wooden boxes, straw, and old cloth. So, having such a soft futon like this makes me happy..."

Suddenly, a small sob could be heard, and I looked up at the maid. Her eyes were red, and she was biting her lip.

"A-Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, it's painful for me to hear this, even though you're the young miss..."

"I-I'm fine! The people who took care of me were kind, and besides, as a child, there was nothing else to do but sleep!"

I made an impromptu excuse... A child using being a child as an excuse would definitely seem strange!

In my flustered state, the maid chuckled.

"You are truly wise, young miss."

...That's right, it's fine because I'm a Beriard.

The Beriard family is unique. Children born with the characteristics known as the blood curse are considered geniuses by society.

And they have special talents and deficiencies.

But in my dream, I didn't have that special talent, so I was considered a defective product. And it was probably because of my hair color that I didn't have any magical power.

Nothing, nothing at all, except for the memories of death. What does that mean?

That's not all. I wasn't allowed to attend magic classes, and I didn't have the opportunity to study on my own.

That so-called teacher who killed me didn't teach me anything either.

I question their role as a teacher. No, I question their role as a human being. Killing people is not good!

While feeling frustrated and upset, I was reminded by the maid to use polite language and she helped me prepare for bed.

With a soft cloth dampened with warm water, my body was gently wiped, and I was dressed in comfortable clothes. In that moment, all the chaos and anger from earlier were forgotten, and I felt completely delighted.

Everything was taken care of. It was perfect.

If only I could be taken care of by others for the rest of my life, without any responsibilities, and live a carefree existence.

However, when I saw my reflection in the mirror for the first time, my heart sank again.

My dull, cotton-like white hair was left to grow down to my shoulders. From the gap in my bangs, blue eyes bordered by white eyelashes stared back at me.

Not slanted or droopy, but sharp and piercing eyes that could give off a cold impression when enlarged.

Pale, lifeless skin and dry, pale lips.

Thin, twig-like limbs.

...Even though I was finally dressed in nice clothes, I couldn't help but feel shabby.

That was the first impression I had of myself.

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