The Beginning After The End

“Execute the witch! Execute her!"

“She is a traitor. She should be executed!”

“She couldn't have gotten this far without His Highness' thoughtfulness! She deserves to die!”

“She had arrived at her proper position, and that was agony!”

My ears begin to hear tunes in the chants of the crowd. I keep moving forward only to stop at a sharp object that will later be directed at my neck. The knights standing next to me had me duck as they dragged me into the small gap.

They manage to lock both of my hands and my neck to the woods despite my insane laughter.

I look at Charles. He has not changed. He gave me a brief moment of his heartless, frigid eyes before Callia blocked it. She kissed him in front of me and everyone else, but she wasn't wrong in doing so. People love her, adore her, and extol her.

I feel the exact opposite of that.

A man speaks next to me and says, "Despite turning into a traitor, her misdeeds are extensive to the point where death isn't only a righteous retribution to her." I'm not familiar with him. But I couldn't care less because my life has always been a mistake.

"Her body will therefore be fed to the animals after she passes away." I then hear people cheering again. They begin laughing, throwing objects at me, and even making fun of the fact that I even exist.

“Kill the woman! Kill the witch!” All of them chanted.

Then, just as I start to chuckle, the sharp blade reaches my neck and slashes my vision, limiting it to the blackness and nothing else.

***

“Will Milady be alright, I wonder?”

“If she doesn't wake up, we're already dead”

“However, the physician claims that she will be able to wake up”

“Oh, I sure hope she won't be mad at us ever again!”

“If you had just told her about the pond, it wouldn't have been your fault at all.”

“Flea, will you please stop blaming me?”

“Why? She nearly drowned due to your foolish statements!”

“Drown? That could be the case, but didn't you notice it? She was rendered incapable of swimming in the pond due to Lady Charmile's behavior!”

“Shhh! We are only here as slaves, and if anyone hears what we say, we will be held accountable!”

“Okay, Flea, I understand. I simply don't want to take the blame.”

"Okay, I won't hold it against you, but the next time I'll warn you. Just reply that you don't know if the lady asks, okay?”

"Flea, I understand, it's as sunny day as clear."

“After that, I'll leave the lady in your care and return to Miss Karen, hoping that she is now okay.”

I keep hearing voices, and then, not too far from where I am, I heard the sound of a door closing. But I have no idea where I am.

I notice that I have already begun to open my eyes when I feel my hands begin to move, not later.

“Milady! Dear Milady, You're fine!" A young maid holds my hands as her eyes begin to tear. This girl comes to mind. Emma is one of the housekeepers in our home. She used to be youthful, but when I turned 25, she vanished without a trace. Actually, I know the voices of the two people.

I tell Emma not to cry. She then becomes stiff. I sigh. I then scan the area. The sun is still out. When I was still 18 years old, this room would be comparable. The previous mirror is still in place. The antique portraits and chandeliers are clearly visible.

Where precisely am I? Is it only my recollections because I already have a soul that wanders?

I don't know why. I stop to look at Emma's wide-eyed expression when she says, "Seems like I surprise you. I'm yours to take off now. But tell me, are you really gone?” Her eyes and mouth both enlarge. She almost trips as her hands drop to her sides like sheets of glass. Instead, she says, "I'm sorry, Milady!," while down on the ground. “I'm solely to blame. I shouldn't have mentioned that the garden's pond was recently built! Milady, please beg your pardon!” She continues to bow and kneel.

She had to quit doing such things, I had to admit that I hate such things now.

It kind of irritates me that she seems to be worshiping me rather than pleading for my pardon. I sigh, "You're overreacting, Emma," yet I can't help but narrow my eyes, "Just tell me honestly, you're dead right?" She then starts sobbing loudly, which causes me to sigh and put both of my hands over my ears.

She can be occasionally obnoxious.

“Milady, don't murder me, please. I really believe that I did nothing wrong. Lady Charmile is here! You were pushed into the pond by her. Please—-”

“Lady Charmile? What, my cousin, do you mean?”

“Yes, Milady and I say –”

"So you're still alive?"

“Save my life, Milady, please!”

"This time, tell me the truth. What day is it right now?

***

A young girl says, "Milady, here is the black tea," and smiles. I glance at the tea with narrowed eyes. It does really reflect the identical image from that day. I groan and shake my head. I take control of the cup. I look over at the maid sitting next to me and take a sip. I've learned that she is Flea, one of my servants, and that she vanished one day after Emma did.

Actually, I've never loved black tea before. I've never drunk it with the fervor I want it to this time because the appearance is pretty unsettling.

I briefly close my eyes as memories flood into my head. I keep having horrible recollections, "Flea, don't you think it's very wonderful how this tea is black?" She seems to quiver for a little moment before turning and grinning at me.

She utters, "Y-yes, Milady." In response, “Hmm,” I hum, but this time I raise the black tea to my lips and taste it once more rather than doing something terrible like I've been doing in the past.

The flavor is relaxing and refreshing, which is exactly the reverse of how I felt in my previous life.

Even when something is black, it need not be bad. It simply means that it has some appealing characteristics that some people love, and others detest. "The tea tastes better in the morning, don't you think, Flea?"

“Yes, Milady,” she answers right away. Again, despite the fact that she is a servant, she is beaming. Maybe I wouldn't be able to tell these folks apart from aristocrats if I couldn't live my life over again.

“Emma wrote you this letter because you let her visit her family today, Milady. She has expressed her gratitude and will be returning tomorrow,” Flea says

I set the cup of tea down and stare at the letter that Flea is currently presenting to me with narrowed eyes.

Without thinking twice, I take it and open it.

When I question her about the time the previous week, I think back to that incident.

She believed that I would either kill her or order several knights to do so. I chuckle at the unexpected idea. I smile and tuck some of my errant hair away.

 My face is lightly caressed by the breeze coming through my window, giving me a taste of the impending season's chill. However, the sun is still clearly shining beautifully, so there is no need to be concerned at this time.

I find myself grinning as I read the letter, she sent me.

She manages to compose the final sentence of her letter, "I hope Milady finds her happiness," in a separate paragraph.

“Can you explain what love is, Flea?” I abruptly blurted out. I close the letter Emma wrote me and take another sip of tea. However, I can tell by the expression Flea is giving me that she believes I will bring up the second prince. But how long has it been since I stopped talking about him?

Even my parents or the other servants must have been surprised by it, but they were able to push those feelings aside. Or was I just thinking too much about it?

“Milady, I'm sorry.”

“It's acceptable to express your opinion.” I glance at her and say, "I'm not asking for the right answer, Flea,” her mouth grows wide, and her eyes enlarge. She appears to have seen a ghost, but I don't blame her for that.

Despite the few weeks that have passed, all I managed to do was surprise the people of this home while keeping myself occupied by doing activities I hardly ever do. But I never inquired about love or to that individual.

But this time, I'm able to advance and alter my conclusion. Isn't dying twice for the same result a little cruel? "Love is a battleground, Milady," she says, I'm a little taken aback, but I can ignore it by blinking.

“A battleground? Interesting, I guess. Explain.”

"My grandfather would often remind me that loving someone involves a struggle. Love has many imperfections and is never flawless. But when love wins, one must battle for it," she pauses and bites her bottom lip before giving me the go-ahead to continue. I nod even though I lift both of my eyebrows.

She stops her mouth after I respond, "Yes, go on.”

“When someone truly loves you, he'll do whatever to fight against the odds and bring you by his side no matter what happens."

The only option I have left is to suspend the tea in midair before chuckling and setting it down on my table. “Flea, would you please thank your grandfather for it?”

“Although my grandpa has already passed away, thank you Milady.”

"I apologize."

"No, Milady, please don't be. I just want to say how happy I am to be able to share what my grandfather used to tell me.”

 She still finds the time to grin in spite of her past. Even when she says these words, I still stand and approach her. I rub her cheeks and lean against her face as I ponder where she gets her energy. However, I can tell there is a buried loneliness in those lights the moment I glance into her eyes. Before it passes away, it expresses the same feelings I had once for that individual.

"Sometimes, we need to acknowledge that we're weak, right Flea?" Then she broke down in tears. We hold our embrace for a full second before she releases me and apologizes for ruining my outfit. "Don't be. Most of all, I appreciate honesty in people.” She smiles once more as I continue. This time, I sense that she is already in good health.

I'm alone in my room because Flea left for a bit to attend to her other responsibilities.

Another servant quickly arrived to fill my time. Despite the fact that I can tell she's having trouble breathing, I tell her, “Take your time and breathe deeply before you speak the message."

Before saying something that causes my eyes to widen, the servant joyfully heeds my counsel and calms herself. "Milady, His Highness, the Crown Prince, Prince Casper Elmier sent you an invitation."