Chapter 5
That was the moment Calliope realized it hadn’t been a prophetic dream—she had truly traveled back in time. She had seen the evidence in her hair and could no longer deny it.
Knock, knock.
A soft sound snapped her out of her thoughts, and Calliope looked up. A polite knock echoed from the worn-out door.
She already knew who it was. Quietly, she stood and opened it.
Framed by a dull, overcast sky stood a man in fine, clean clothes. Deep shadows lingered beneath his eyes. He blinked in surprise when the child opened the door without hesitation, but quickly composed himself.
“I was told that Lady Ithiel Hubert lives here.”
Calliope gazed up at him with crimson eyes, unreadable and calm.
“She passed away last year.”
“…What?”
Genuine shock twisted the man’s expression.
“I’m her daughter, Calliope. You look like a noble’s servant. What’s your business here?”
The man—clearly a retainer from House Anastas—hesitated for a few seconds, then let out a long sigh. He had been sent by the Marquess himself to negotiate something with Ithiel Hubert. But now that his intended contact was dead, a headache bloomed behind his eyes.
“I… I didn’t know Lady Ithiel had passed. I’ll return at a later time, then.”
Calliope watched him in silence, her gaze steady. Her thoughts drifted to the past.
Back then, she had been living in Solita’s home. She remembered clearly how Solita had been the one to spot the man loitering outside the empty house and had confronted him. Suspicious of the stranger, she had demanded to know who he was. After he revealed his identity, he received an even colder reception.
“Calliope, come here.”
As if summoned by memory, Solita’s voice rang out again. She must have seen the fancy carriage outside through the window.
Calliope glanced at the carriage with a blank expression. It was far too grand for a servant. When she was younger, she had thought all nobles used carriages like that—but now she knew better.
That carriage wasn’t meant for a servant. It had been sent for her mother.
“Who are you?”
When Calliope didn’t respond, Solita stepped between them, her posture tense. She eyed the man with suspicion, her tone sharp.
The man raised his hands with a tired expression, sensing her hostility.
“There’s no need to be alarmed. I’m Jack Beckham, servant to the Marquess of Anastas.”
“Anastas?” Solita’s voice turned ice-cold. “The Marquess of Anastas?”
Jack took a step back as Solita’s eyes narrowed, flashing with fury. She jabbed a finger toward him, her anger unfiltered.
“Oh, that nobleman? The one who tossed aside his wife and daughter like garbage but still eats well and sleeps soundly? What could a man like him possibly want here?”
The kingdom’s social hierarchy wasn’t something to take lightly. But in that moment, her brown eyes burned with anger, and she forgot all fear. She raised her voice, her finger practically poking through the air.
“It’s been a year since Ithiel died! And now you show up?”
“How dare you speak like that—” Jack began, his voice rising.
“Then why were you looking for my mother?” Calliope cut in, her voice calm but firm. “Tell us the real reason.”
Jack Beckham was a loyal servant of the Marquess—never the type to tolerate disrespect from commoners. But before he could explode, Calliope inserted herself between him and Solita. Jack, who had been ready to argue, blinked and cleared his throat, suddenly aware of himself. His gaze dropped to the young girl standing before him.
“I’ll return another time.”
“No. You have business with me, don’t you?”
He fell silent, surprised by her certainty.
“…That’s unlikely.”
“No,” she replied calmly, “I’m sure you do.”
Jack’s expression faltered.
Calliope found him irritating. In the past, this man had also turned away, shocked by her mother’s death—only to return a day later.
Back then, the younger Calliope had been tense, unsure of what to expect. But deep down, she’d hoped.
What child wouldn’t, upon hearing that their real father had come looking for them?
“You have business with me,” she repeated. “And I’ll be waiting.”
Of course, her life was never going to be like a fairytale.
Looking back on how quickly things moved after she reentered House Anastas, Calliope now realized her father had always had a very clear purpose. At the time, she had been too young to understand. But now, as she thought about it with older eyes, it all made sense.
“Don’t waste your time.”
Unlike before, Calliope wanted to leave the village immediately. If she stayed even one more day, the villagers would see her off with tears—and she would leave with regret. And if that happened, she might start looking for a way to run again.
But she didn’t want that.
She didn’t want to leave herself any escape routes.
She had things to do—things to claim. In her previous life, she’d failed to hold on to them. She’d been foolish enough to lose everything and even give up her life. But not this time. This time, she would make sure it was all hers.
Jack looked at the unusually calm and firm girl in front of him. She was just a child, but she didn’t speak like one. After a moment of hesitation, he finally spoke.
“The Marquess of Anastas wishes to formally reinstate the daughter of his former wife, Lady Ithiel Hubert, into the household.”
“…What did you say?”
Solita exploded.
Divorced or not, after discarding Ithiel so cruelly, now he wanted to take the child, too? If Ithiel had still been alive, she would have died of rage on the spot.
Fuming, Solita almost stormed back into the house to grab a fistful of flour—if not salt—to throw out the door. But the strange calm on Calliope’s face stopped her in her tracks.
“Calliope?”
“Ah… so he was planning to negotiate my place of residence with my mother.”
Her words were blunt and cutting.
Jack instinctively frowned. She didn’t sound like a child at all.
“What was he planning to offer her?”
“That’s not for me to say—”
“Why not? My mother is gone. You’ll have to speak with me directly. Is this how House Anastas usually conducts its affairs? With unnecessary, messy detours?”
She was barely fourteen, but there was no hesitation in her tone. Jack had to force himself to remember: this girl had received no formal education. She was practically a commoner.
“The Marquess had selected a well-located estate for you, outside the capital.”
“And?”
“The surrounding land and vineyards would have been given to Lady Ithiel.”
“And?”
“…He also looked into a townhouse on the capital’s outskirts.”
“And?”
“As the Marquess’s acknowledged daughter, you would receive a monthly allowance for your upkeep.”
“And?”
“Young Lady.”
Jack’s voice tightened. Though she wasn’t officially registered yet, she would be soon. That made her a young noble lady now, and he addressed her accordingly.
Calliope let out a soft scoff.
Back then, she hadn’t known her mother had been approached just to strike a deal over her.
When Calliope had begged Solita to let her go—saying she wanted to see her father—Solita couldn’t bear to say no. And so she’d let her go. The child had ridden in the marquess’s carriage, full of hope.
Her father, the only light she had clung to after losing her mother…
But that naïve, foolish little girl no longer existed.
“There’s more. Isn’t there?”
Jack clenched his jaw.
Calliope tilted her head innocently.
House Anastas was one of the wealthiest noble families in the kingdom. They wouldn’t try to buy her with just that. Jack remembered what the Marquess had told him:
“Ithiel won’t hand the child over easily. We might not even get to the second offer. If that happens, convince her that the girl deserves a better life.”
But now, he’d been cornered all the way to the last card.
Jack had never expected to negotiate with Calliope herself. He knew nothing about her. No one did. After all, who cared about a child who was essentially being sold?
“…The Marquess is prepared to offer one of the northern gold mines under the family’s control.”
“Ah.”
Calliope let out a dry little sound of admiration.
That one, she thought. The mine with maybe ten years left of production—if that.
No one outside the family knew it was near exhaustion. She only knew because she’d lived through it before.
Still, it wasn’t a terrible offer.
Absentmindedly brushing the ends of her white hair, Calliope smiled for the first time.
“Then give it all to me.”
“…Excuse me?”
Jack’s eyes widened. Calliope’s smile only grew.
“If you give it all to me, I’ll go with you.”
He didn’t answer. He hadn’t expected to be outmaneuvered by a child.
Technically, everything offered was authorized by the Marquess. The intent had been to make sure the mother accepted, so she wouldn’t be able to claim custody later.
But giving it directly to the child meant giving up any leverage. It was a total loss.
“That’s not something I can decide.”
“Of course not,” Calliope said with mocking sweetness.
She hadn’t realized how much her old self was returning. Being surrounded by people who cared for her had softened her—but now, faced with a representative from House Anastas, her former self clawed its way back out.
“Then I’ll speak to him myself.”
“What are you saying!”
Solita, who had been silent until now, finally stepped in. She crouched to Calliope’s level, holding her by the arms gently but firmly.
“You can’t go with them. Now they want you back? That alone means they’re hiding something.”
“Solita.”
Calliope’s voice trembled as she looked into her eyes.
“I have to go.”
“But why? Why do you have to?”
Solita knew all too well what Calliope’s return to the marquess’s estate meant.
No more hunger. No more ragged clothes. No more hard labor.
But even so…
