A garden bathed in warm sunlight came into view.
The soft scent of earth, and my mother’s gentle voice.
[This herb soothes anxiety and calms the heart.]
Her tender whisper mingled with the bright smile of a child, offering her a dirt-stained herb.
[Mom, you’re sick, so take this. When I grow up, I’ll gather this many herbs and make you all better.]
Mother simply smiled warmly and pulled the child into her arms.
That child didn’t know then.
The meaning of the sadness hidden in her mother’s eyes.
The scene shifted, and I was at my mother’s funeral.
The herb garden she’d cherished so dearly fell into ruin, and Father drowned himself in drink day after day.
Then one day, a strange woman arrived at the manor with a young girl in tow.
Father told me to call her my stepmother.
And the girl, pretty as a doll, became my younger sister.
[You’re like a princess from a fairy tale, sister. You look just like this doll.]
Rachel was my only companion, when all I knew was the herb garden and my research.
She was greedy, coveting my things, even carelessly handling Mother’s keepsakes.
But in a household where Father was always drunk and my stepmother treated me like an outsider, Rachel was the only one who smiled at me.
Seasons passed, and on my tenth birthday, both Father and my stepmother perished in a carriage accident.
Under imperial law, which forbade women from inheriting private property, Father’s estate passed to my cousin, Pierre.
Once he became head of the household, he squandered money on gambling and liquor.
As expected, the family’s fortunes plummeted, and we were soon buried in debt.
When even the business he’d pinned his hopes on failed spectacularly, he hurled insults and mockery at me, calling me a useless leech.
On nights when Pierre, drunk, overturned the dining table, I’d escape to the garden where memories of my mother lingered.
Tending to a small patch of herbs in a corner of the garden was my only solace.
[Aselin, the medicine you made is truly remarkable. Can you tell me more about herbalism?]
Thanks to the encouragement of my fiancé, Alex, I was able to cultivate a wider variety of herbs.
I dug through the earth until my fingernails turned black, watering the plants, experimenting with combinations, and eventually mastering formulas with exceptional efficacy.
Over time, the range of medicines grew—from ointments to apply to pills to swallow.
[They say even a worm has its tricks—pretty impressive, huh? Give it a shot, who knows? You might actually be useful to the family.]
Once my medicines started making money, the scorn in Pierre’s eyes began to shift.
For the first time, I felt recognized, overflowing with happiness at being valued.
I never dreamed he saw all my efforts as mere profit, plotting to exploit my achievements.
[My darling daughter, put your happiness above all else. As long as you’re healthy and happy, I want for nothing more.]
I’m sorry, Mom.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, dampening my face.
“Miss, are you awake?”
I lifted my tear-soaked eyelids.
“Dana… is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me, Dana! I was so relieved you recognized me. You collapsed so suddenly yesterday—I was worried sick.”
“Collapsed?”
“You… don’t remember?”
Dana studied my face with a meaningful expression.
“You slapped Miss Rachel across the face. Then you fainted right after and slept the whole day.”
My eyes widened as I sifted through my memories.
The moment my palm stung from the slap, Rachel’s jaw dropping in shock.
And Alex, standing awkwardly, unsure whose side to take.
“Ha… hahaha.”
I couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
It was like watching a third-rate play.
“Dana, what year is it?”
“It’s the year 320 of the Berta Empire.”
At her words, I turned my gaze to the window, where warm sunlight poured in.
The green trees and blooming flowers in the garden suggested summer.
The accident, when I fell from the terrace, happened on the last day of June.
So…
“Is today July 1, 320?”
“Yes. Yesterday, the viscount came to discuss the wedding date, but you fainted so suddenly that he left. He came back just a little while ago and is waiting in the parlor…”
As I listened to Dana, I sank into thought.
The year 320—I’d returned exactly two years, to when I was twenty.
And in August, I’d marry Alex, only to be used and meet my death.
This time, I absolutely won’t marry Alex.
This miraculous chance is too precious to waste on such trash.
Sorting my thoughts, I spoke.
“Alex is waiting in the parlor now?”
“Alex? Oh, you mean the viscount? Yes, he said he’d wait about an hour, so he should still be there.”
At Dana’s words, I left the room immediately.
As I walked down the long hallway, the manor’s familiar scenery came into view through the arched windows.
Familiar, yet filled with nothing but cold memories.
I gazed at the stump of a cherry blossom tree outside the corridor window.
That tree, and the garden beside it, were the only places that held warm memories.
My only memories of Mother.
[“Whether it’s a tree or a person, useless things should be cut down!”]
I remembered the night Pierre, drunk, came with an axe and hacked at the tree in a frenzy.
When he copied my research journal and graduated top of the imperial academy.
When he took my herbal compendium and started a business, stealing all my efforts.
I never let it show. As head of the household, I thought Pierre’s honor mattered more than mine.
But when he chopped down the tree tied to my memories of Mother, my heart truly crumbled.
My nose stung as I pressed my eyes firmly and headed toward the parlor.
Just as I reached the end of the corridor—
“Hey!”
A voice called out abruptly, halting my steps.
Pierre was striding toward me from the far end.
His light steps and wildly disheveled hair.
He looked like he was itching to pick a fight.
Probably drunk out of his mind last night, as usual.
I ignored him, keeping my eyes forward as I walked.
Before I knew it, Pierre stopped in front of me, tapping my shoulder with his finger.
“Hey, didn’t you hear me calling? Why aren’t you answering?”
Same as ever, calling me like I’m some stray dog.
I stared at Pierre, then curved my eyes into a smile.
“You were calling me?”
“Yeah, are your ears clogged? Why didn’t you answer when I called?”
“I didn’t hear my name being called.”
“No way you didn’t hear. I shouted loud enough!”
Pierre’s face twisted in disbelief, his eyebrows furrowing.
The atmosphere grew tense, and I took a step back.
Then, taking a deep breath, I shouted with all my might.
“Hey!”
Pierre’s eyes widened as he clapped his hands over his ears.
I gave him a bright smile, right in his face.
“…I mean, my name is Aselin Rondinella.”
“Did you hit your head when you fell off that terrace and lose it completely? Why are you suddenly yelling like a lunatic?”
“You shouted first, so I thought you might be hard of hearing and raised my voice. And I told you my name because you seem to lack even basic manners.”
“Why would I lack manners? You, a mere nobody, dare to lecture me, the head of this house?”
“When you call someone, you use their name, not ‘hey.’ What good is a head of the house who barks like a dog without dignity, ignorant of such basic etiquette?”
“What? A dog… ignorant?”
Pierre’s eyes bulged as if they might pop out.
Then, glaring at me, he curled one lip into a sneer.
“You think you’re something because you can make a few medicines? No matter how good you are, you’re just a woman. At best, you’re like gum stuck to a man’s shoe. So act like a proper woman and stay in your place instead of talking back!”
Incompetent fool. Bragging because of that one extra thing between your legs.
I yawned, watching to see how far he’d bark.
“Hey, are you even listening? What’s the status of the new medicine?”
At Pierre’s shout, a memory surfaced.
The new medicine…
Right, I developed an ointment around this time.
“Yesterday was the day to show the trial medicine to investors, but you stupidly fell off the terrace. Do you know how much trouble you caused me?”
Pierre’s voice boomed like a steam locomotive.
Acting like he’s some master apothecary, boasting everywhere, only to squirm now.
Rolling my eyes, I gave a sweet smile and opened my mouth.
