Dylan de Beaumon, the adopted daughter of a Duke, recalls the memories of her past-life after hitting her head. Upon realizing she was a villainess character in a novel, she decides to use her intellectual giftedness to get a good career and run awa...
She looked younger up close—like she almost couldn't be called an adult—but her eyes looked like they had seen several lifetimes. He stared in awe while she reached up and seductively ran a hand through her hair.
"I came here to see my brother," she said, taking a step toward him. "I can see him, right?"
The guard stiffened. He wasn't supposed to let anybody in—it was his job.
"Oh, uh," he stuttered nervously. "I can't allow that, milady."
She tilted her head questioningly. "Am I not even allowed to say goodbye?"
"That's, that's not... I... "
Dylan looked down at her feet, a sad expression crossing her features. A tiny drop of moisture slipped from the corner of her eye when she blinked. She had gotten particularly good at faking sadness. Perhaps it was because sadness was something she knew all too well.
"What are you crying for?" he said, eyes flashing with panic. "Don't cry. Listen, don't cry."
"Please forgive me," she said, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands. "I'm just sad that I don't get to say goodbye to my brother."
"F-fine." The guard frowned, internally agonizing over the fact that he was about to break the rules. "I'll let you in."
She smiled with tears in her eyes, and she saw his face lighten as he stared at her. The guard was mesmerized by her bewitching beauty for a moment, then he snapped back to reality, and unlocked the door for her.
***
"Who sent you here?" he asked, in a hoarse voice. "Speak, and speak the truth! Did my father send you here?"
Dylan's lamp had burned out, leaving only the starlight to dimly illuminate the cell. In the small space filled with darkness there were only two people separated by iron bars, and a window that allowed the stars to watch them from above.
"I came on my own accord," Dylan said. "May I speak with you for a moment?"
He suddenly laughed an insane laugh—at the irony, the ridiculousness of it all. The sound bounced back and forth off the walls, echoing throughout the cramped space.
"I despise you," Axil said scornfully. "So why are you the only one who came to see me?"
Everybody else had abandoned him. Without a single thought, they left him to rot in a cell.
"Why?" she asked him. "Why do you loathe me so much?"
His eyes turned darker than the shadows. "I utterly despise you."
Even in the darkness, Dylan could see the emotion burning fiercely in his eyes. Dylan said nothing, and they glared, sinisterly and grotesquely, at each other. They were the villains in each other's stories.
"They say that hating someone without reason is impossible," she finally said, averting her eyes. "So what's the reason?"
"While my mother was dying, my father was fucking yours." Axil glared his anger at her. "Your existence starts from the fact that my mother was sick. If my father wasn't bored of my mother, then he wouldn't have gone to yours."
"Do you always jump to those kinds of conclusions?" she asked, her cheeks warm with anger. The need to shed tears stung her eyes, but she would not allow this man to see her cry.
He sat there in the starlight, smiling a humourless smile. "Your existence is disgusting."
Dylan felt lower than she had ever felt in her life. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to throw her lamp at his face. Maybe all she really wanted to do was cry. Even though his story wasn't right, his words still attacked her situation like precise daggers.
With a shaking voice and quivering lips, she replied: "I am not the Duke's biological daughter."
"You don't expect me to believe this little fairy tale you have concocted, do you? Do you expect me to believe the Duke would take in a mere beggar like you without reason?"
"Ha," Dylan laughed dryly, burying her face into her hands. "You never even asked, right? You just made your mind up already." She was trembling now, her hands shaking violently when she pulled them away from her face. "We could've been... so much better than we are now."
His dark eyes widened, then lowered, to hide his reaction to her words.
"My father is the deceased Marquis of Ruenz," she said breathlessly, as if the words hurt her. "Your father took me in because it was his dying wish."
Axil's face went pale, as if he might pass out or throw up, as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. He buried his face in his trembling hands, as tears dropped through his fingers. His body hitched in heavy jerks as his stifled sobs echoed through the cell.
"I'm going to bail you out," she whispered, turning her back on him. "Don't live the rest of your life driven by hatred."
They were villains in each other's stories. He was hers. She was his. That didn't mean that they wished to be.
"I'm leaving you enough money to start a better life," Dylan continued. "I hope you find happiness, brother."
It was the first time she had called him brother genuinely. She hated him. She hated him enough to wish he was dead. She hated him twenty-four hours a day. He had beaten her, scarred her, and made her feel worthless—but, in the end, she couldn't just walk away. She was not her father.
She didn't know if she could forgive Axil for the way he treated her or if she wanted to forgive him. But with this, they could both move forward. They could both heal.
'How funny it is that I'm helping you escape this hell first.'
Although she was still behind bars, Dylan felt a little less like a prisoner.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Our Dylan is a lot more pure and human than she thinks she is...
What did you think? This was the ending I wanted for these adoptive siblings.
