Chapter 3
Becoming The Villain’s Family
Translator & Editor:Â Latte
âThe song that I heard in my sleep.â
The dreamlike melody, which seemed to be repressed in water, soon echoed throughout the room.
âI opened my eyes, awake from the scattered dreams.â
Ariaâs singing guided the count to the River of Oblivion.
Her voice sounded like an ingenious fairy, a playful yet tangy tone.
Pizzicato.
He could hear the slender strings of a violin being plucked from somewhere far away.
âGone, the mysterious night.ân/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
At that moment, the song succeeded in capturing the countâs deranged heart.
This was the song of the Siren.
âThi-this is ridiculous.â He said, astonished.
âNo, it canât be! How in the world are you able toâ¦. Donât tell me that Sophiaâ¦â the count proclaimed in disbelief.
It was beautiful and angelic, something he never thought heâd yearn in his entire lifetime.
âThatâs not all.â
The lyrics swam through his head like a wakeful dream, the notes soothing him, siphoning his entire being from within.
But at the same time, there was anger laced in her words, and a bloody smell filled the entire room.
This intensity was something he could not overcome; it seized and locked him in, just like an incurable poison disguised as an angelâs touch, ready to lead him to his morbid death.
He could feel it subconsciously.
âThey are both Sirens, yet the discrepancyâ¦â
That song would make sane people derangedâa small voice, yet something that could bring the whole aristocrat under her feet.
Perhaps taking control of the empire was not an exaggeration.
âLet me hear once more! More, moreâ¦.!â The count begged before stepping on a bottle of liquor and fell to the floor.
His bloodshot eyes set rigid on the siren as he outstretched his hand, trying to grip his figment of desire.
It was hideous.
Aria shifted her gaze upon his body and stared at him, her eyes filled with disgust.
âTo think that I was sacrificed for someone as pathetic as him. To satisfy the greed of those who know nothing but wealth and power. How stupid I was.â
Count Cortez.
He controlled his daughter, who knew nothing, with violenceâcompelling her into his bidding, things beyond imagination.
The violence he brought to her, still fresh in her memory. New bruises appeared on her body every night as they caused agony that could only be seen on the inside. She was terrified of him, but not anymoreâ¦
âMy voice shall be the last thing you hear tonight.â
Ariaâs cold words cleared part of the irrational haze in his mind.
âWait! Th-this song isâ¦â
âYes, you know this song well.â
It was the first song that he told her.
A song to deal with nobles who know things they shouldnât know.
âYouâll forget everything.â
âNo! What are you doing!â
The Siren didnât address his superficial outcry. Her symphonious voice sprang to life once more, not carrying even a hint of sympathy.
âThe song was like a mirage. The night disappeared as if it was nothing but an illusion.â
A part of him faded like a trace of snow in the first of summer. Every single part of the memory residing in him was torn down.
A haze gradually veiled his whole body and his memory vanished without a trace.
âEverything was a dream.â
âNo, not a dream. The Siren, whom Iâve been longing for, is standing before me.â
The count desperately shut his ears and shook his head, as if by doing so, could retain a portion of his memory.
That voice.
Nothing could ever compare its worth. With that in his hands, neither honor, power, glory, or wealth could satisfy his greedâ¦
Yet his lifetime longing condemned his effort as she sang the final verse, concluding the ending by herself, without him in it.
âAh, everything was just a dream.â
He was reeling under overwhelming force as the bloody metallic taste passed through his throat.
âSiren!!!â He shouted as he coughed out blood.
His eyes were dull as his determined gaze finally faltered. He screamed his final plea as her voice squeezed away all his remaining strength.
The song was over.
The desolate cry of the count finally stopped, and Aria found no reason to hear his regrets anymore. It made no difference for her as she wasnât even going to give him a chance to ask for forgiveness.
Looking at the senseless count, Aria asked coldly, âWhere are the mermaidâs tears?â
âMermaidâs tears⦠itâs uh⦠inside the drawer of my bedside table, in a jewelry boxâ¦.â
âWhereâs the key?â
He rummaged through his pockets, his bleary eyes filled with bewilderment. A clinking sound chimed before the key emerged from one of the countâs pockets.
Aria ripped the key away from his hand and ran straight into the countâs bedroom.
She turned the key and found a jewelry box inside the drawer. She carefully opened the small case. Underneath the box was a pearl earring, its rainbow-colored luster glowed underneath Ariaâs shadow.
âFound it, the mermaidâs tears.â
She never dared to resist her father because of the pair earrings he had, or better known as, âThe Tears of a Mermaid.â
The mermaidâs tears were able to fend off the influence of the Sirenâs voice. Itâs like a shield that would protect the wearer, even from the malicious voice of the ill-willed Siren.
The bearer of this earring was someone even a Siren could never harm.
âI was able to flee from my father just after my mother died.â
Ironically, the count used to carry the mermaidâs tears wherever he went, but after Sophia died, he left the earrings untouched inside his drawer.
He began to wear it again ever since Ariaâs identity as a Siren was revealed.
âMotherâ¦â
Aria swept the jewelry box with her fingers and clicked open the case.
âIf only I had come back a few days earlier.â
Aria shook her head.
She was fortunate enough to return at the right time. Had she returned even a little late, she would not have been able to break out of the countâs grasp as smoothly as she did then.
As much as she missed her mother and her presence, it was important not to be greedy. Less, she would wind up losing this fortuitous opportunity.
Aria sealed the jewelry case shut and clutched the earrings tight within her hold.
* * *
She really came back.
Back to when she was a measly 10-year-old.
Aria put her hand on her pounding heart.
âI thought Iâd be in hell.â
She denied God, yet instead of being punished, she was given another chance. A new life to rebrand those years of foul memories.
It was ridiculous.
Now there would be no burn marks deforming her skin nor two slender yet broken legs.
âI can change the future.â
Aria felt unshackled, for she had been given the freedom she craved for a lifetime.
Nothing will chain her ever again, not the count, the repugnant aristocrats, and certainly not the emperor. The seed of her childhood nightmares, which reigned her entire life, was finally gone.
âWhat do I do now?â
Her mind agonized upon her worrisome future.
Unfortunately, the potion she had taken had consequences of its own. Apart from losing her vocal cords, the potion also shortened her lifespan.
The potion gave Ariaâs freedom a time limit.
It was something she couldnât change even if she had traveled back in time.
âIâll die when I reach twentyâ¦â
âWith this limited time, how can I spend the rest of my life meaningfully?â
Only one thing is for sure, she should never let anyone know that sheâs the only remaining Siren.
âMy songs will drive people insane.â
The Sirenâs enchanting music fascinates yet poisons peopleâs minds at the same time. Their voice could lure them to insanity and corrupt their thoughts.
Aria was fed up with such situations.
Suddenly, she recalled a peculiar individual who held her on the brink of her death.
âSiren, Iâve heard that listening to your songs drives people crazy.â
It was then.
âThen I guess I wonât mind. Because Iâve always been crazy.â
She recalled the voice in her last moments.
His grey eyes blurred as if they had lost their original color, and would only brighten when he slaughtered the nobles.
His eyes were soulless and lifeless, gaze wandering everywhere as if searching for clarity.
Perhaps he desired sanity, although he could not stand it. Perhaps being sane tormented his mind. Perhaps that was why he could not take himself off the high, wishful dream that gradually faded as he came into contact with brutal reality.
âLloyd Cardence Valentine.â
He was only at the age of eighteen when he inherited the title of the Grand Duke.
However, four years later, a dreadful accident occurred. The Valentines were brutally annihilated. The entire bloodline and even their subordinates, they were all killed. Hence it was named âThe Valentine Incident.â
Lloyd Valentine was the only survivor of the tragedyâ¦
Naturally, he was referred to as the criminal.
âAlthough no punishment was executed.â
The incident was said to be the culmination of the devilâs madness, which was passed on to the Valentines, generations after generations.
Even the Emperor overlooked the incident.
Simply put, the affairs of the Valentines were inviolable.
âThat might be true.â
Indeed he could have been involved with the devil and killed all his parents, relatives, and subordinates.
After seeing him slaughter the aristocrats without batting an eye, even a dim-witted person would doubt him.
âBut he didnât want anything.â
Every single person who signed a contract with a devil had their own desires. It might be gold, glory, or honor, but it was surely something they desired so greatly. Something that they would offer anything to obtain. Even by trading with the devil.
But not him.
His eyes werenât even burning with anger and vengeance like what was present in Aria. There was no passion nor zealousness.
âHis eyes were just⦠empty.â
His vacant eyes did not desire anything, yet he didnât hesitate to help her get her revenge.
He offered her a choice.
Just like a devil.
It didnât occur to her that he could be the one that caused the Valentinesâ massacre.
âA man who doesnât want anything.â
Aria gave him the benefit of the doubt.
Because he had given her hope.
âI will give you happiness.â
If he accepts her.
âCan I spend the rest of my short life next to you?â Aria thought.
She wanted to be the firefly that illuminated his darkest night. Give her entire life for him, a desire to protect him, and a willingness to take on suffering if it was for his happiness.
* * *
âThe maids are insane.â
The wooden flooring in the attic creaked under the maidsâ heavy footsteps.
Aria sat on the bed, her eyes set to the window before retracting her gaze back to the maids.
The maids put her breakfast on the discolored yellow quilt.
On the tray was a watery yellow congee with an odd stench that wafted throughout the room.
âThis is⦠porridge?â
âThe count told us to wash and dress her.â
âWhy does the count suddenly care about her?â
âI donât know.â
They could not help but sneer at the sight of the young girl. Their eyes were filled with contempt and disdain.
Aria was the outcast of the mansion. Every person knew she was the victim of the countâs abuse, yet none held her in favor. Hence they regarded her as a ghost.
They stood there, doing nothing but staring at her with their arrogant eyes.
âPerhaps the count is planning to acknowledge her as his child?â
âEh, no way.â
âRight. He even declared that he wouldnât register her as a family even after he died.â
âIs it because heâs drunk? Ever since her mother passed away, he would only drink throughout the day.â
âIsnât he trying to replace her? Perhaps heâs trying to substitute her mother like an ornamental doll.â
Aria had all of the distinctive traits of the Sirenâs bloodline.
Her hair that flowed softly down to her waist, resembling cherry blossoms in mid-spring.
Her pupils twinkled as though it was a polished pink sapphire, and a rosy color stained her cheek with a reddish hueâ¦.
Her appearance contained a lovely aspect that no one can deny. The childâs charming features shone even brighter than a gleeful spring, with such ethereal impression, someone might mistake her as a spring fairy.
âSiren.â
People would speak of their diverse beliefs about the legendary creature, but they would always agree about one thing.
Their stunning appearances.
The Siren sings so sweetly that she lulls everyone into her songâwith her voice she enchants, with her beauty she deprives of reasonâvoice and sight alike deal destruction and death.
âIt used to be an unfounded legend.â
But when Sophia, Ariaâs mother, first appeared, the world had no choice but to accept their existence.
The existence of a beautiful monster, Siren.
âLook at her eyes. Theyâre like jewels, trapping people with its enchanting gaze.â
One of the maids sat on the bed and stared at the child. Her mind was muddled before she soon came to her senses and said, âWhat am I saying, she canât even speak.â