Prologue
VIOLETTE HAD NEVER cursed her stupidity so much in her life.
She lost count of how many curses she spat out as she stared at the chain on her ankle, securing her to the prison wall. Every one of them was directed at herself.
There had been hints about the truth right in front of her, but she ignored every single one. Now, it was too late.
Violette’s father and his unfaithfulness, the mistress he preferred, the half sister born from their union, and her crush, who liked Maryjune better…every one of them had tried to kill her. Tried to hurt her. Tried to crush her happiness.
Her father drove her mother insane. The mistress stole her father’s heart. But it was their daughter, Maryjune, who took everything away from Violette. It was Maryjune’s fault that Violette’s mother, her father, her crush, everyone didn’t love her.
Violette had believed that. She’d hated and resented them and convinced herself that her crazed act of revenge was justified.
She hurt too many people in her blind rage. She destroyed too many things.
She was stupid. An utter fool. She’d done deplorable, unforgivable acts that she could never atone for. Every time she remembered what she’d done, her heart felt heavy and sore.
“…I’m sorry,” she said.
No matter how severe Violette’s punishment, nothing would fix her selfish behavior and abuse of power. She should be grateful to be alive at all. After all, the crime she committed was punishable by death.
Her beautiful half sister was the one who bestowed this final moment on Violette. She couldn’t decide whether it was kind, or cruel.
If Violette begged for forgiveness, her gentle half sister wouldn’t punish her. She wouldn’t even consider taking Violette’s life. Like a goddess, she loved all living things—that was a quality Violette could never possess. A girl like Maryjune could never put Violette’s memory behind her. The whole family would bear the shame of the mess she made for generations.
“I’m…sorry…”
How pathetic was she to try to steal someone’s happiness? Violette understood now that nothing had been taken from her; her own dark thoughts had made her miserable. Even her relationship with her crush fell apart because of her bad attitude.
But there was no point regretting it now.
If her family was fortunate, they would only lose their social rank; if unfortunate, they would fall into ruin, losing all their status and fortune. In either case, there was no way a family that produced a criminal like Violette could remain aristocrats. No daughter from that family would ever wed the heir to the throne.
“I’m…sorr…” she gasped.
How pathetic. Another useless apology. No matter what words Violette strung together, it was all over.
“So…rry… I’m so…sorry…” she whispered, her voice hoarse. Her dry eyes burned and her nose was stuffed.
Violette wanted to be loved, wanted to be praised, wanted to be beautiful, but she was filthy and ugly from crying. There was no bath in her prison, after all. She cried until she could cry no more. She apologized so many times that she lost her voice. Yet despite all that, her crime would not be forgiven. Everything was swept up in the past, far out of her control.
“Urgh. I’m…sor…ry…!”
The more she dwelled on her regrets, the clearer her memory of that day became. Just one week after her mother died, her father brought home two people he called his new wife and daughter. Violette was heartbroken, terrified that her father didn’t have enough love to go around. The day Violette first met her half sister began the countdown to her rampage.
She knew it was pointless, but she couldn’t help her feelings.
If only she could return to that day. If only she could go back to before all of this started. She wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. She wouldn’t stand out, act haughty, or hurt anyone for the rest of her days.
She swore that she would live without bothering anyone.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Violette…Violette!” a man’s voice called.
“Huh? Yes!” she replied.
“What’s wrong? You’ll offend our guests if you stop in the middle of a conversation like that.”
“Huh…?”
Her father was beside her, and a woman and a girl stood in front of her. The girl’s adorable smile suited her better than the tears Violette remembered.
Was she dreaming? Or was this a punishment for wanting her life to go back to normal?
She remembered this. This was the day her father introduced her to her stepmother and half sister. Violette’s heart had ached with the sadness of her mother’s passing, but now it was tinged with relief at finding herself out of prison.
Violette’s father had introduced the woman and girl as his beloved family, like he wanted to show Violette that this was the family he truly wanted—a mother with a gentle smile, and a kind, innocent daughter.
This day, the very first of her regrets, had constantly played in her mind while in prison.
“My name is Elfa,” the woman said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m…Maryjune. It’s a pleasure to meet you…sister,” the girl echoed.
“Ngh,” Violette choked.
In her memory, Violette had splashed tea on Maryjune. She couldn’t handle that voice calling her sister, so she’d thrown it right in her smiling face. She still had the cup ready in her hand…but this time, she controlled herself. Still, she couldn’t help but grimace.
“…Violette Rem Vahan. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Elfa, Lady Maryjune.”
Violette looked down, hiding her stiff expression. Her father gasped in surprise beside her—the Violette he knew would never greet anyone so politely, let alone with a smile and a bow!
“I am terribly sorry, but would you mind if I excused myself?” said Violette.
“Uh, all right…”
With a sidelong glance at her shaken father, she bowed and left the room. She lifted the hem of her dress and hurried back to her own room, still in shock. There was nothing there to explain what was happening, but at least she could pull herself together once she was finally alone.
Violette rushed to the hidden compartment in the second drawer of her desk. She pulled out her diary and opened to the page marked by a thin bookmark. It was blank. Flipping backwards through the pages, she found the most recent entry at a date much further back than it should be. She had kept this diary since she was a child. It was the crystallization of all her secrets, known only to her.
The events of the past long before her imprisonment were laid out properly in her familiar handwriting, but the more recent ones were missing.
“Why…? How is this happening…?” she asked.
Did time really rewind? It was impossible. It was inconceivable. Not even a magician could erase something that had already happened. But here she was, outside her prison cell. Her ankle was free of chains.
“This isn’t a dream…is it?”
The feel of the diary under her fingertips, the room before her eyes, and the sound of the wind outside all told her that it wasn’t a dream. This was real.
She had returned to the fateful day when her madness was born, to the time before everything. To the time before she ever wanted to kill.
“I…definitely won’t make that mistake again.”
This was her chance. She could live a life of quiet atonement, never hurting anyone, and keep herself from committing her terrible crime.
She wouldn’t bother anyone this time.