…Either way, I die in the end, don’t I?
The knuckles of my hand, wrapped around the death vial inside my pocket, went white.
If I played the role of the fake daughter as the original story dictated, I would die. If I refused the role, I would die for defying orders.
I was the only A-rank spy among the five-year-olds, but I was not irreplaceable.
Duke Foss hadn’t sent me here because he was confident I would succeed. He knew that before House Krost could expose me, I would take my own life. Children were obedient. He had conditioned me to be so since before I could read. That was all he’d ever needed from me.
…Not so different from my last life.
I clenched my teeth in silence.
The lie that studying hard would pay off. The lie that getting into university would change everything. The lie that landing a job would make it worth it.
I had listened to the people who acted as though they were responsible for my future—and what had that gotten me?
Overtime? Everyone does overtime. You just have to push through.
Life is hard, isn’t it? That’s why I always said your school days were the best years of your life.
That was all I’d ever gotten back.
“……”
I slowly opened the eyes I had shut, and released the death vial.
One regret-soaked death was more than enough. One foolish life was more than enough.
From here on, I would stop making choices whose endings were already visible.
“Excuse me, Sir Knight.”
The guard, who had been waiting in long silence, let out a sigh as I finally spoke.
“Ah. So you’ve found your voice. Now then—are you really saying you’re his daughter? What proof did you bring?”
I took a deep breath and began to speak, one word at a time.
“In a room with a warm hearth and an ornate canopy, my mother once told me. That the people of Krost, upon birth, enter an ice cavern and endure its brutal cold.”
“…What?”
The knight’s eyes flickered almost imperceptibly.
The ice cavern. A pocket dimension created in secret by the Duke of Krost using his Ice Affinity.
The tradition of spending several weeks in the ice cavern immediately after birth—acclimating to the cold—was a rite of passage for all direct heirs of House Krost.
In order to wield the Ice Affinity, one could not be vulnerable to cold; one had to grow intimately familiar with it from the very beginning. And so the direct descendants of the family were placed in the ice cavern for four weeks alongside their nursemaids, learning to live and sleep amidst the ability.
“Your mother—you mean the Duchess?”
The knight dropped to one knee as he spoke. I nodded.
“Good God… Heavens above.”
He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes growing pink with what appeared to be genuine emotion.
“…Do you mean to say… that this is actually true?”
He was on the verge of tears. His voice had softened, and he had shifted to formal address.
“—or so the direct daughter of House Krost told me.”
“Hm?”
A beat of awkward wind passed between the weeping knight and me. The moisture in his eyes dried up like sand under a summer sun.
I felt mildly guilty. He’d been so moved.
“A-ahem!”
I cleared my throat in my still-childish voice.
“When did I say I had experienced it personally?”
If I pretended to be the fake daughter, I would die.
I knew that. So why would I lie?
I quietly swallowed what I’d been about to say and let out a slow breath.
“I said that’s what the young lady of the direct line told me. And I also happen to know where she is.”
“…What did you say?”
The knight who had fallen silent now narrowed his eyes, catching that last sentence before it escaped.
“You said you know where the direct daughter is?”
“Yes.”
There was only one way for me to survive this situation: abandon the spy mission, and give Duke Krost the information I possessed.
In the novel, it was said the young lady ended up in an orphanage.
The truth was, the daughter’s story had never been explored in depth in the original text.
Five years ago, not long after the eldest and second son were kidnapped, the pregnant Duchess had vanished as well.
The Duchess was never found—but much later, the daughter was discovered in a distant orphanage.
As a corpse.
Since the estimated age of the body in the original was around that of an elementary schooler, she should still be alive right now.
“So I would like to request an audience with the Duke.”
The guards knew things only those closest to the Duke were privy to—yet some strange child was standing here, knowing them too. They would have no choice but to think she was somehow connected to the missing daughter.
“G-good God…”
The knight dropped his handkerchief.
“Heavens. A-at last, the young lady of the direct line…”
His face went taut with something between disbelief and trembling reverence.
“Listen here, little one. You’d better not be lying. Do you understand what that would mean?”
“Yes, sir.”
I was half-afraid he might be suspicious, so this was a relief.
I nodded and followed the knight into Krost Castle. The first step was complete.
I swallowed, steeling myself for whatever came next.
No more dying quietly because I’d done nothing but follow orders.
________________________________________
…Wow. The ceiling really is high.
“Come along, little one. Keep up.”
I had spent five years confined to the training grounds of House Foss—perhaps that was why everything beyond those walls felt startlingly new.
As I looked up without thinking, the weight of my own head nearly toppled me backward.
“Ugh.”
Right, this isn’t the time. I need to keep up with the knight. That means working these little legs.
Tap-tap-tap.
My short, stumpy legs pumped as hard as they could. In the quiet corridor, the sound of my footsteps rang out like a small drum.
Anyway, what should I ask for as a reward once I find Duke Krost’s daughter?
Money would be ideal, if I’m being honest with myself.
But I was still five years old. And technically still a spy with House Foss’s leash around my ankle.
If I accepted a reward and tried to run, House Foss would come after me. And with this body, could I really carry a fortune far enough to escape?
I shook my head.
No. Absolutely not.
Sigh. These useless little limbs.
What was the point of all that spy training if my physical capacity topped out at “small child”?
I stared flatly ahead with weary eyes and exhaled.
The daughter of House Krost has it easy. She has a reliable protector in Duke Krost—if she ever returns to the castle, even the worst people wouldn’t dare lay a hand on her.
Hm. Wait. That gave me an idea.
If running away was impossible, what if I found someone powerful enough to protect me instead?
Someone strong enough that even House Foss wouldn’t dare touch them. A steady, dependable guardian—
What if I ask Duke Krost to make someone in his house my legal guardian?!
“…Oh. That works.”
I was genuinely stunned by my own brilliance.
Was this why Duke Foss had turned me into a spy?
Because I was just that clever?
“What works?”
The knight glanced back at me.
I wondered if even this knight-level person might be enough to keep House Foss at bay. After all, Calypse Krost was fiercely protective of his people. If anyone touched one of his knights, he would take it personally.
The thought flashed through my mind, and before I could reconsider, I was already talking.
“Excuse me, sir knight.”
“What?”
“Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have a child?”
“I already have children.”
“What?!”
Ah. He was taken.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh—I just sometimes think about what it would be like to have parents of my own…”
I let out a small, dejected sigh.
The knight looked at me, baffled, but I pretended not to notice.
And then—
“Ah, Dorothy.”
The knight stopped abruptly and placed a gentle hand on my back.
“This is the child I mentioned. Please look after her until the audience is approved.”
“Of course.”
“Be well, little one. And don’t forget to share the young lady’s location with His Grace.”
The knight ruffled my hair in farewell and turned to go. Just like that, I’d been passed off to someone else.
Wasn’t I going straight to the Duke?
Well, I suppose getting an audience with the lord of a great house isn’t something you can simply walk in and do.
“Right. Well. Goodbye, sir.”
I gave a polite bow to the knight’s retreating back and waited.
“…So. You’re saying you know where the young lady is?”
“Yes.”
Only when I finally lifted my gaze at the soft question did I see who I’d been handed to.
Brown eyes flashing a sharp warning met mine.
Right. I’d forgotten.
I wasn’t the only spy who had infiltrated House Krost.
Six years ago, a spy had become the first to successfully embed herself here—using the cover of a maidservant.
Dorothy.
________________________________________
Dorothy.
In the original story, she was the character who had grown paranoid that Aisha’s arrival would erode her own position. That paranoia had curdled into anger, and she had spent a good stretch of the story tormenting the girl without cause.
And now that same woman had caught me in the very act of trying to defect.
I should probably run.
I glanced around quickly.
“Oh, look over there!”
I exclaimed with wide eyes and pointed dramatically at something behind her.
“Where?”
“A handsome man!”
“Hm?”
At my breathless announcement, Dorothy instinctively turned her head—
“…A-ahem. Is she talking about me?”
—only to find a man who appeared to be pushing ninety, red-faced and flustered with a leather-bound tome in his arms.
“…That’s not a handsome man.”
Dorothy turned back around, her expression curdled.
“Why you little—!”
I was already gone.
________________________________________
