Can We Become Family?

Chapter 5

The butler guided Naviah to a room with emerald-colored walls tucked away in a corner of the third floor.

“From now on, this will be your room.”

“Oh... Okay.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper as she crossed the room’s threshold.

“I’ll arrange for the doctor to visit shortly.”

The door closed behind her with a soft thud, leaving her in silence. She took in her new surroundings. The third floor was undeniably more opulent than any other part of the mansion, at least as far as she had seen. This room’s door was adorned with a large emerald, while the pillars and candlesticks inside were enameled in gold, complementing the green palette of the other decor. The furniture was extravagantly luxurious. She gently ran her fingers over the walls and furniture as she walked about the room, absorbing the feel of each item.

“It’s nothing special.” To Naviah, now reverted to the age of eight, everything appeared much larger. This new room, too, seemed disproportionately vast to her young eyes. Yet despite its grandeur, it no longer seemed to offer much allure. She found it unremarkable.

I desperately longed to be accepted into such a mundane place. Reflecting on her past aspirations, she scowled. Why was I so naive? They didn’t deserve my kindness. Her reward had been nothing but a series of cruel and miserable deaths.

Pausing in front of a large mirror, she took in her reflection—a figure much too small and thin for a girl of eight. Since her adoption into the Agnus household, her diet had been rigorously controlled, supposedly to prevent weight gain. In reality, they used food as a means of manipulation. From a young age, she had been conditioned to view a tasty meal as a reward, much like a dog. The lack of food stunted her growth. Even in her eighth life, when she stood at her tallest, she had not grown much taller than an average girl of twelve or thirteen. They always found me lacking compared with the much healthier Eudes and Vivian.

Her attention now shifted to her hair. While its silver hue had often been praised as being more luminous than a fine pearl, it stood in stark contrast to the characteristic red of the Agnus family line. She had once lamented that she didn’t share this trait, finding solace only in the fact that at least her eyes were crimson. But now she was grateful that her silver hair bore no resemblance to the family.

She gently prodded the outer corners of her eyes, pensive. To think I once longed to resemble those detestable people... I can scarcely believe it. Her red eyes, deemed enchanting by some and unsettling by others, now broiled with a piercing intensity.

A cough shook her and she clutched her arms tightly around her. Her head felt feverishly hot, but the rest of her body was cold. I can’t afford to fall ill. It was only her first day of this new life, but she felt ready to strike, like an archer with their bowstring drawn tight. She had no time to wallow in sadness or lie sick in bed. If she wanted to stay ahead in this lethal game, she had to be one step ahead of her opponents.

Lost in thought, she plodded over to the bed. In the course of her eight regressions, a grim pattern had emerged: Whenever Vivian was miraculously healed of her supposedly incurable illness, Naviah’s own death would inevitably follow within a year. At times, her demise would even precede the initial discovery of the cure.

I hold the key to Vivian’s recovery. If she did nothing, she had twelve more years until the cure surfaced on its own, which would coincide with Naviah’s transition into adulthood. In her eighth life, she had fought to endure until that event. She had earnestly attempted to ingratiate herself as a legitimate member of the family. But unfortunately, her efforts had been in vain. Now, merely thinking of herself as an Agnus evoked a deep sense of disgust within her. If only I could discard that detestable name...

However, Naviah was far too valuable for Nikan to simply cast aside. Her exceptional qualities rendered her an asset of incalculable worth. Moreover, the unpredictable Prince Ares harbored a relentless desire to have her for himself—though whether it was as a wife or a slave was of no importance to him. He wanted to possess her in whatever shape or form he could. His attention only made her situation more dire.

The upper echelons of nobility were rife with individuals who had seemingly lost both their wits and their morals. Naviah saw only two paths to liberating herself from their clutches: She could either embrace death, or she could secure a new guardian.

Due to the constraints of imperial law, even becoming the adopted daughter of a noble wouldn’t guarantee a peaceful life. The laws mandated that noble children remain under their parents’ guardianship until marriage, supposedly to safeguard the “noble bloodline.” It was as if they were trying to save a rare species of animal from falling into extinction, but the underlying motive was far more sinister. It’s a law crafted to turn magicians into property, Naviah mused. The law had carefully avoided the mention of “magicians” in order to avoid generating controversy. But it meant that if a child had exceptional intelligence or beauty, they became nothing more than a tool to be used at the family’s disposal, much like Naviah herself—regardless of whether they possessed magic abilities or not. “That damned imperial law...” Naviah cursed under her breath.

She knew she had to complete two critical tasks to change the course of her fate: curing Vivian, and securing a new, cooperative guardian among the noble class. While I’m aware of Vivian’s cure, the real challenge lies in finding a suitable guardian. Fortunately, I have one in mind. Duke Lark Ethelred—as an unmarried thirty-year-old noble with no heirs, he was the ideal candidate.

As Naviah settled onto the bed, considering her strategy, a knock disrupted her thoughts. A voice came from outside the door. “My lady, it’s Charlotte. I’ve brought your breakfast.”

“Come in.”

The door creaked open, and Charlotte, her designated maid, entered with a tray of food. Suddenly, they heard the pounding of heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor.

“Move aside!” Phillipa’s voice boomed as she charged into the room, shoving Charlotte aside with determined force. The maid’s face briefly showed a flash of hostility after nearly losing her grip on the tray, but she quickly regained her composure. Of course, Naviah thought. While her maid outwardly appeared to be allied with Phillipa, in reality she was like a viper lurking in the grass, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Naviah observed Charlotte’s reactions closely. Their eyes met for a moment. The maid, realizing she was under scrutiny, froze. Brimming with anger, Phillipa issued a stern command directed towards Naviah. “You are to go to the duke immediately and ask for his forgiveness!”

Naviah blinked slowly. She understood that Phillipa’s fury stemmed from the fact that Eudes was facing confinement, and it was all because of her. Phillipa surely believed that Eudes, shut in his room for merely a day, deserved sympathy far more than Naviah, who had narrowly escaped a fiery death. Such unfair distinction came as no shock.

But just because I’m accustomed to this injustice doesn’t mean I’ll continue to endure it. Phillipa’s treatment of Naviah hadn’t always been so harsh. When Naviah first entered the household, the nanny had shown slight contempt for her status as lesser nobility but had otherwise treated her well. But when Naviah’s remaining biological family passed away and Nikan became indifferent towards her, the nanny’s demeanor shifted. Her disdain grew more overt, and it was clear she viewed Naviah as a shabby and unwelcome duck amid the “swans” of the Agnus family. Her once almost motherly attitude shifted to incessant threats and even physical violence. Beneath Naviah’s skirt, her thighs were marked with scars, souvenirs of Phillipa’s lashings.

I wanted to see her as a maternal figure, foolishly hoping we could get along. How naive I was. Phillipa had always shown Eudes and Vivian boundless affection, seemingly willing to sacrifice anything for their welfare. Naviah had often felt envious of their bond. She had longed for simple gestures of kindness, such as being brought a cup of honey-laden tea while sick in bed with the flu. But if she fell ill, Phillipa would only reprimand her dismissively.

“Can’t you go a day without causing me trouble? It’s a simple flu, nothing more!”

Naviah shifted her attention to her maid. “You brought me breakfast?”

“Yes, my lady.” Charlotte eyed Naviah cautiously as she placed the tray on the bedside table. She then retreated to a safe distance, where she could be careful not to aggravate Phillipa further while she continued to observe the unfolding drama. Phillipa, already agitated, was beset by a wave of humiliation, feeling like Naviah had made her invisible by her apparent disregard. The nanny spared not an ounce of attention to Charlotte.

“Naviah! Are you dismissing me?” she asked, taken aback. Under normal circumstances, the girl would have been visibly shaken, unsure of how to respond to Phillipa’s anger. But now she remained unfazed. What’s happened to the girl? Just yesterday she was a mouse. How did she become so defiant? Puzzled and irritated by this sudden change, Phillipa raised her voice further. “You will answer me when I speak to you!”

It was only then that Naviah finally turned her attention toward the woman berating her. She adopted a calm but assertive tone. “I don’t understand, Phillipa. What am I to seek forgiveness for?”

Phillipa straightened her posture, puffing out her chest. “For causing trouble to Lord Eudes, of course,” she hissed. Eudes was the scion of a prestigious noble house, and she firmly believed that a lowborn girl like Naviah had no business hindering his glorious future. “You are a lady, taking full advantage of the luxuries the Agnus family has to offer. How can you stand by while the heir to such a family is unjustly punished?”

Naviah, seasoned by her experiences, thoroughly knew Phillipa’s character. The nanny revered the nobility almost as if they were divine beings. Naviah smirked. If that’s the case, I’ll be the one to shatter her illusions.

At the realization that such a lowly girl was mocking her, Phillipa’s rage came to a boil. Insolent wretch! A good beating will bring her to her senses. Her face contorted with malice as she threatened Naviah. “If you insist on behaving this way, I have just the way to deal with you!”

She marched toward Naviah, snatching away the quilt that covered her. She was just about to grab the girl when she spoke. “Ah, now I understand what I should be apologizing for.” Phillipa flinched at the chill in Naviah’s voice. The girl lowered her eyes coldly to the tray Charlotte had placed on the table. Before her was a sparse meal: a lump of bread no bigger than her own child-sized fist, and a bowl of what looked to be plain water masquerading as soup. “I just realized that you’ve been stealing from the funds meant for my care. I ought to say I’m sorry for not noticing it sooner. Is that right, Phillipa?”