Saving the Two of Us Before the Fall (A Villainess Regression Fantasy)

3. Fifteen Years

The light pouring from the towering windows of the corridor blinded her. She squinted and wondered if this was how death felt like—a warm morning sunshine that she could only recall during the days of her childhood. Beside her, Ariadne heard a familiar croaky voice.

"... Your Grace, I like to present my only daughter, Ariadne Larissa y Severine."

Why was his voice sounded dear to her? Why was this experience familiar to her, like a faint memory she had already lived through? The little girl in her puffy green dress turned in the voice's direction. A man in his forties was slightly bowing before someone. Is this father? The bewildered Ariadne thought as she traced the familiar creases of his face, his blue eyes she could see from his half-open lids. It was the same eye color she inherited from him and would later be the source of the Empire's fear—the Blue-eyed She-devil, they called her.

The man was undeniably her father. He opened his eyes and looked at her sharply. Astram Paul y Severine was the name of the man. He was the family head of House Severine, a minor and a vassal house to the duke of Atolia.

Ariadne could only look at her father in confusion as she kept giving her the daggers. What am I supposed to do in this kind of situation?

Astram gestured subtly towards the front with a slight nod of his head.

Ariadne looked up. The first thing that she noticed was the small boy behind the tall man. He had the prettiest golden hair that she had seen in her lifetime. And for some reason, she felt she was familiar with it. She observed him more; his red eyes stared at her with both awkwardness and interest. Isn't that...

When the conclusion finally came to her, she felt her head throb. Before the man beside him could finish introducing the little boy, Ariadne immediately ran in his direction. All the while repeating in her head the words: Your Grace!

"I'm so glad you're alive," she said as she wrapped her arms around him.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the pain in her head pulsated, sending her into a dizzying darkness.

It took a moment for the people in the hallway to realize what had just happened.

"Ariadne!"

Osriel held Ariadne in his arms as the child's father rushed toward them.

"Forgive my child's insolence, Your Grace," Astram said as he bowed before the duke.

"That's not what matters right now. Maids! Call for the doctor and bring the little lady to a room." The duke commanded.

"Young lord, you could now finally let go," Astram said as he reached her daughter, preparing himself to carry her. The boy was still in pure shock; he didn't expect the butler's daughter to be this... shameless. He heard rumors she was aloof and would prefer the company of books to children her age...

"Your daughter is different, Mr. Astram," he could not help but to express his suspicion.

"Your Lordship, please forgive me."

The boy smiled at the old man who served their family even before he was born.

"It is fine," he said.

--

Ariadne woke up sometime in the afternoon. She found herself alone in one of the palace's many rooms, its window gazing out at the gardens which the late duchess had treasured. She couldn't meet her because the duchess died after giving birth to Duke Osriel. But her father always told stories about her, usually about how his master met the duchess.

Ariadne sat on the bed and watched the waving flowers in the garden. She still could not comprehend what had happened, but it seemed she was locked in the body of her younger self. She wondered what year; there were no calendars in the room that could tell her about it.

As time passed, the realization slowly sunk into her mind... that perhaps the time had turned back. But for what? And who did it? The gods had always been deaf and silent to her pleas that it would be impossible for them to do her this kind of favor. She also heard nothing about a power that could turn back time. Perhaps it's a prison where I would live forever repeating the same memorie-

Before she could finish what she was thinking, the door creaked behind her. Ariadne looked back and saw her father with worried and angry eyes.

"Are you alright?

She stood and nodded to him. Astram sighed heavily as he put his hand on his chest. "You make me worry for fainting... and what you did to the young duke! No proper lady of the Empire would do that to any man. I taught you about proper etiquette, did I not?"

Perhaps the young Ariadne would find it annoying. But listening to it melted something inside her heart. Astram stopped speaking as he saw his daughter drying her tears with her hands.

"Ariadne, why are you crying? You are making me worry?"

She shook her head and tried to regain her composure. "Nothing, father... and I'm sorry for what I did earlier. I think I just got a bad dream while we were walking?"

"You dream while you are awake?"

She nodded, "I dream with my eyes open when I'm listless."

Astram sighed and reached to pat her head. "It can't be helped because you read too many romance books. I need to set up another meeting between you and His Grace. Remember, we cannot afford to leave a bad impression on them."

She nodded. "Father, I have something to ask to you?"

"What is it?"

"What year are we right now?"

"What?!" He spoke. "First day of Nardure, and the year is 1268."

When Ariadne realized what year it was, the emotion overwhelmed her, and she couldn't help but throw her arms around her father. So, it was twelve years before the war happened... and fifteen years before the young duke and I faced our death.