Dark Dad’s Rebirth - Chapter 10: The Real Aria (12)

His voice was softer than usual. Her golden eyes, brimming with tears, sparkled like jewels as they looked up at him. Without even realizing it, Caelius cupped her cheek and kissed the corner of her eye as if to soothe her. His touch was so delicate that Aria felt an unfamiliar tingling warmth spread through her chest.

“Liar…”

“Do you want it to be a lie?”

Aria frantically shook her head.

“N-no, hic, that’s not it.”

“Then why do you keep saying it’s a lie, hmm?”

With a playful smile, Caelius pinched her cheek lightly.

“Riri.”

Her small head bobbed up and down in response.

“I love you.”

At the sound of his voice whispering those words once more, Aria sniffled and burrowed deeper into Caelius’s embrace. He let out a faint, humorless chuckle and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.

“I never thought I’d experience emotions like this. If it weren’t for you, my dear, I probably never would have.”

Aria’s shoulders trembled faintly in his arms. Caelius patted her back gently, his fingers brushing through her hair with care. Even saying the words I love you felt like treading dangerous ground.

Perhaps this was inevitable.

From the moment he began treating her with uncharacteristic leniency, this outcome had been written. From the time he found her antics amusing instead of irritating, to the moments when her timid attempts to read his mood made him let out a small laugh, the signs had been there.

Still, he was afraid. He knew these emotions would make him vulnerable.

But it was too late. He had already crossed a river he couldn’t turn back from.

She was his other half. A reflection of himself, his perfect mirror.

He knew these feelings were wrong, that they would only hinder him. Yet the emotions surging within him were impossible to control.

Is this how you felt every time you looked at me?

The thought of her carrying these feelings alone, suppressing them, her wide eyes always searching his for approval, weighed heavily on him. A deep guilt began to settle in his heart.

She was small and precious. His one and only.

I’ll give you everything I can. I’ll treasure you. Even if the rest of the world only sees lies, I will always be truthful to you.

Even if it was to atone for the harshness he had shown her in the past. To make sure there was no room for misunderstanding, he resolved to do it right this time.

From that day forward, Caelius gave Aria everything she wanted. No matter how small or insignificant her desires seemed, he made sure to fulfill them. If she mentioned something in passing, he wouldn’t rest until he placed it in her hands. His meticulous attention to her every wish bordered on obsession.

If only things had stayed that happy.

But tragedy came swiftly.

 

* * *

 

Never in his life had Caelius experienced difficulty. Not with anything.

Not with royal studies, swordsmanship, or court etiquette.

Every teacher he encountered marveled at his perfection. Caelius didn’t excel only in academics or combat; his tall, striking figure and chiseled face, paired with his status as crown prince, made life effortless for him.

Caelius often thought of himself as the protagonist of the world. Everyone else, in his view, existed merely as supporting characters in his story. He’d lived with that overconfidence for a long time.

That’s why losing Bjorne was his first taste of despair.

It was bitter and painful—something entirely new to him.

Still, no story ends without conflict.

The despair was brief. Caelius believed it to be nothing more than a dramatic “conflict” meant to make his narrative more compelling. This belief only strengthened when he discovered that his former fiancée, Amerin, had hidden their daughter, one who had inherited the power of the royal family.

Without hesitation, Caelius personally visited the Marchioness of Reschent, despite the inconvenience, and what he saw confirmed his suspicions. The golden hair and golden eyes that met him were dazzling.

There was no need for further proof—she was his daughter.

[“Caelius’s daughter, who retains the royal power.”]

That title alone made Aria politically invaluable. Her existence made it much easier to rally support and regain influence. Everything seemed to fall into place, favoring Caelius once again.

Even the first time they shared a bed, even when his lack of restraint during their initial encounter drew blood, he felt little guilt. Back then, he hadn’t cared deeply for Aria. Regardless of what happened, she was still his one and only daughter, his possession.

But perhaps because she resembled him so much, Caelius found himself treating her differently. While he was harsh to others, he was unusually gentle with her.

Seeing a child who was practically a mirror of his younger self, starving for affection and trying to win his favor with playful antics, left him feeling strangely conflicted.

Her personality, her greed, her appearance—everything about her was like a reflection of himself.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and half a year passed.

At first, she had been nothing more than a bothersome girl. But before he realized it, he was completely immersed in her. Though his love for her was far from normal paternal affection, Caelius truly cherished Aria.

And because of that, his obsession with the throne grew stronger.

He wanted to give her Bjorne.

A child who was his mirror image—he thought he understood exactly what she wanted without needing her to say it. He believed that offering her Bierne would make her face light up with joy.

Overthrowing the emperor might be a life-or-death matter for others, but Caelius didn’t see it that way. In his life, he had never failed. Every challenge he’d faced had ended in success, so he was convinced his rebellion would be no different.

It didn’t take long for him to realize how delusional he’d been.

The betrayal of Marquis Verha, the death of Gossen—his closest confidant.

When he sensed the failure of his coup, despair came second to one thought: I have to save Aria.

As the leader of the rebellion, he knew he couldn’t escape death. But Aria could. Even if she lost the royal power and was exiled, he could at least keep her from the guillotine.

So, even as his mind went blank, he spoke words that would work in her favor.

“She’s too foolish to know what I was doing. She was merely a pawn I used. She’s innocent of any involvement in the rebellion. In fact, it’s because of her incompetence that I failed.”

Deliberately, in front of Azecresis, he grabbed her by the collar and threw her onto the cold floor. Then, he pointed his sword at her, as if ready to kill her himself.

Her golden eyes filled with despair, fear, and betrayal. Seeing that look in her eyes made Caelius feel like vomiting, but he bit back the curses rising in his throat.

“Dad…!”

“Pathetic,” he sneered. “I don’t love useless things.”

Disgusting. I disgust myself.

“I was just pretending to be an ordinary father for a moment.”

The future I dreamed of with you wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The throne. Yes, the throne is fine.

But the future I truly wanted… was something different. To live a quiet life in the south, where it never snows year-round, planting the roses you love so much. To raise the cats or dogs you always begged me for. Just a simple, ordinary life, like everyone else.

Why couldn’t I be more honest?

The throne, the power, the ambition—what were they worth that I let everything fall apart?

You, me, everything.

Regret comes too late. The water has long since been spilled, and nothing can be undone.

Despite all Caelius’s efforts, even as she was cast aside and abandoned by him, Aria could only mutter words of love.

It was all the worst possible ending.

 

* * *

 

When Caelius faced Aria, locked away in the underground prison, there were so many things he wanted to say.

Words of regret for the past. Apologies for dragging her into this mess. Admissions that everything she had seen before was a lie. Confessions of love.

But Caelius said none of them. He simply stayed silent.

What good would whispering words of affection do now, when both of them were awaiting execution?

I’ll bear the weight of all our sins, so just hate me instead.

Hate me for pulling you into this. Hate me for dragging you down to ruin. It’s all my fault.

For the first time, Caelius regretted the life he had lived.

The sins he had amassed over 37 years now seemed to engulf her as well. He felt disgusted by himself—by his arrogance, blinded by power, by his inability to let go of something as meaningless as Bierne, and for bringing her to this state.

And when he saw her dragged weakly onto the guillotine, her figure broken and disheveled, he felt something else for the first time: a desire to believe in the gods he had always scorned.

When had he mocked those who sought refuge in faith, calling it a pathetic illusion crafted by the weak? And now, here he was, begging them.

If only you would give me another chance, I won’t raise another rebellion. Please, if you grant me just one more chance, I’ll cast everything aside. I’ll live simply, like everyone else, and spend the rest of my days just loving her.

No, even if that’s not possible—if only she could be saved.

Until the moment her head fell under the blade of the guillotine, Caelius clung to the faintest sliver of hope, praying desperately.

The sharp blade that would sever his own life was of no consequence to him.

The only thing that mattered was Aria. Aria. Only Aria.

If her misfortune stems from being entangled with me, then send her to a world where I don’t exist in the next life.

He begged like a dog.

And yet, until her dying breath, she mumbled apologies for failing to place the crown on his head.

That damn crown, that wretched throne. None of it matters anymore.

I was too arrogant. I realized it far too late.

Caelius didn’t even know where to begin tracing his mistakes.

Was it the first war he was forced to fight in at the age of twelve? The banquet where he flayed an enemy king alive for amusement? The hazy memories of the day he mercilessly slaughtered surrendering enemy prisoners?

No. Perhaps the mistake had been being born as “Crown Prince Caelius von Bjorne” in the first place.

 

* * *

 

From the first moment Aria met Caelius, to their ruined appearances as they were dragged to their executions—Aria’s hazy mind replayed every detail.

Every scene from the original story unfolded before her eyes as if it were real.

‘Is this a dream… or not…?’

Whatever it was, she didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to relive such painful memories, ripping open old wounds. And yet, something deep within her seemed determined to make her recall every moment, every detail, forcing her to watch the vivid images of the original Aria and Caelius.

It felt like drowning. The air grew thick, and her chest tightened unbearably.

‘It hurts…’

I hate this. I don’t want to see it. Why? Why don’t I want to see it?

She didn’t know. She couldn’t understand anything, except for the instinctive sense of rejection swelling within her.

The spring days filled with the scent of flowers. The sweltering summer in the southern lands, where the sea breeze carried with it the tang of salt. The autumns spent playing in piles of leaves, only to scream at the sight of insects. The dreary winters, spent mostly by the fireplace because her father hated snow and avoided going outside.

Days filled with laughter, tears, quarrels, misunderstandings, and reconciliations.

All those sweet, bitter, and bittersweet moments led to their end.

And then, it struck her.

The day her father, who had always shone so nobly, stood on the guillotine with lifeless eyes.

The final day they spent together. The warm sunlight that didn’t suit such an end. The tickling spring breeze. And then, the chilling sound of metal falling, the screams of the crowd, the crimson blood pooling on the ground.

Her father’s severed head, rolling across the ground.

At that moment, a fury and anguish so consuming overtook her mind.

She prayed desperately.

I don’t care if I lose the power of the royal family. Just please, give us one more chance. No, at least save my father, please.

She begged and begged, over and over.

Why had I forgotten this?

—Foolish child. You are no descendant of mine, yet you use my power as if it were your own.

That unfamiliar voice echoed just before her death. At first, she thought it was merely a hallucination.

—To not only wield another’s power without fear, but to disrupt the flow of time itself…

It was no hallucination. Everything seemed frozen in time. The guillotine blade, which should have already fallen on her neck, hung suspended in midair. Only the unfamiliar voice continued.

—A power not your own can do little more than conjure feeble tricks…

If you are truly a god, then please, just one more chance, Aria pleaded silently. Her body was broken, her voice incapable of forming words, her lips unable to move. Yet tears poured down her face as she begged, pleaded, and groveled.

—My child agrees with your wish.

And as if responding to her desperate prayers, a warm golden light enveloped her broken body.

—Would you offer that power and your very existence as the price?

At the moment she vowed, If I could see my father smile again, I would give everything—my lifespan, my soul, anything, the choice was made.

—Be careful. There will be no turning back.

The voice was stern, almost scolding, yet laced with a hint of pity.

—Tsk, tsk. What a pitiful thing. Your narrow view sees only my child. How did you come to be like this…?

—Yes, even your very existence is my child’s sin to bear.

Ah, how could I have forgotten all of this?

—In 25 years, I will come to you again.

From the beginning, there was no such thing as the “original story.”

—After you’ve experienced a new world, met new people, and broadened that narrow view of yours… if you still make the same choice as now…

That’s when it all came back to me.

—Then, I will give you another chance.

My first life. My second life, when I was born in Korea. And now, this life, where I’ve returned again.

Looking back, it was strange from the start.

If I had possessed the body of a character in the original story, there should have been a heroine or a hero. But there wasn’t. Not from the very beginning, not until now. I had simply convinced myself that Caelius was a sociopath, the “final villain.” Instinctively, I thought of him that way.

Or… was it really instinct?

Could it be that I just wanted to believe Caelius was a broken human being?

Yes. That’s probably it.

Because otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to endure.

He was all I had. My one and only.

I didn’t want to believe he had abandoned me. I couldn’t bring myself to accept that all the days we spent together were a lie.

So, I made myself believe it. That he was nothing but a terrible person. That belief was the only thing that let me breathe.

I drew lines. Instinctively, I labeled him as the villain. Caelius was a bad man, and I was just a pitiful child caught in his web.

I kept drawing those lines. Over and over again.

But why?

Why, even now, can’t I let go of him?

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Caelius, asleep at the bedside, his head resting on the edge of the mattress.

The man who had once whispered such sweet words of love, only to abandon me so cruelly.

“Dad…”

My stomach churned. The resentment, the betrayal—it felt like the floor beneath me was caving in.

And yet, despite all that, I wanted to feel the warmth of his embrace one more time.

I thought I was fine.

I thought I had resolved myself, that I would sacrifice everything to save him. But now that I had this second chance, why did I feel so much hatred for the father who had abandoned me?

“Dad… Dad… Dad…”

My voice cracked, spilling out in a broken whisper. No response came, of course. How could there be? He was asleep.

“What… what was I to you?”

Was I just a useful political tool?

The words came out in a tone so unfamiliar, so bitter, that even I hardly recognized myself.

I wanted to ask him if he had ever been sincere with me. But the words caught in my throat. I was afraid of the answer. Afraid that even in his sleep, he might deny it.

‘If it’s so hard, why not let go? Why not leave Caelius behind and walk away?’

And yet, I still couldn’t let him go.

Why?

—Darkness is only ever noticed next to the light. I will be your light, Dad.

—The throne should have been yours from the start.

Because I wanted to place the sun in your hands.

Because even the sight of you abandoning me and walking away… I still love it.

Foolishly so.