Dark Dad’s Rebirth - Chapter 12: A New Tool (3)

Immersing herself in chess turned out to be a surprisingly effective distraction. As she focused on the game, time slipped away, and thoughts of Caelius and Leria faded into the background.

“Is it difficult?”

“It is, but it’s manageable,” Aria replied as she fiddled with a chess piece.

The young noble teaching her smiled faintly and brought a white, rolled paper to his lips. It was a peculiar sight—Aria found it strangely familiar, though the memory was hazy.

The moment he lit it, clarity struck her.

A hallucinogen.

It was unmistakable, the same substance Caelius had often indulged in.

As Aria stared at the rolled drug in a daze, the young man gave her an awkward smile, perhaps mistaking her gaze for disapproval.

“My apologies, Lady Aria. It’s a bad habit…”

Seeing her expression, he hurriedly moved to extinguish it, but Aria stopped him with an unexpected response.

“No, you don’t need to put it out.”

Her voice surprised even herself. She paused, hesitating as though weighing her next words carefully. What followed was shocking.

“Instead… may I try it? Just once.”

“Lady Aria, what are you saying?!” Leon, who had been watching nearby, leapt to his feet and rushed to her.

“That’s a hallucinogen! It’s illegal—strictly forbidden in the kingdom. I’ll deal with him for this.”

Aria gave a faint, humorless laugh. “I already know that.”

“Then why—”

Leon cut himself off, faltering as if realizing he’d said too much. Aria’s lips curled into a cold, humorless smile.

Why? Does he really not know?

The thought had been impulsive, but deep down, it felt almost inevitable. Why shouldn’t she? Night after night, she had wished not to wake up. And if she did wake, she prayed it would all be over—the years of torment with Caelius, the betrayals, and the rebellion.

At times, she wanted to disappear entirely. Living this wretched, humiliating existence wasn’t something anyone would willingly endure.

Wasn’t it natural to think this way?

Maybe being intoxicated, however briefly, could ease her pain. Even Caelius had turned to drugs to escape reality. Perhaps there was something to it—a fleeting hope that it might bring her peace, however false.

“Lady Aria.”

Leon’s firm voice cut through her thoughts. He was staring at her with unwavering seriousness.

“You mustn’t.”

“…”

“Anything else is fine, but not this…”

“Young lord,” Aria interrupted, her gaze locking onto his. Leon hesitated, biting his lip as he avoided her eyes.

“Anything else is fine?”

He didn’t answer, but the way he tensed told her he regretted his words. A tense silence fell over the room. The young noble who had lit the drug glanced nervously between Aria and Leon, extinguishing it as though it might quell the tension.

“So…”

“…”

“Should I just quit everything and die?”

“…What?”

“Do you think suicide is better than taking a hallucinogen?”

Leon’s eyes darted around frantically, his shock and confusion written plainly across his face. Like a child sucking on a candy, he seemed unsure of how to respond.

Aria chuckled bitterly at his reaction, as if she’d expected nothing less. Rising from her seat, she reached across and took the hallucinogen from the noble’s hand.

The only thing holding me back is the betrayal of Leon Verha…

If he were out of the picture, Caelius’s rebellion would proceed much more smoothly. If only she were skilled enough to assassinate him herself.

But it was hopeless. Leon wasn’t just any young lord; he was an exceptional knight, seasoned by battles on the front lines. The scrawny, malnourished Aria could never hope to take him down. Any clumsy attempt would only heighten his suspicions.

Holding the hallucinogen between her lips, Aria turned to the young noble. “Light it.”

He glanced at Leon, then back at her, his uncertainty plain as he hesitated.

“Antion, don’t,” Leon said firmly.

But Aria’s voice came again, sharper this time.

“Light it.”

The command was curt and unyielding. The man called Antion looked at her, then at Leon, before reluctantly beginning to light it. Still, he added, “Lady Aria… I agree with Leon. This isn’t right.”

Aria’s golden eyes gleamed with a sharpness reminiscent of Caelius in his prime—a silent warning that brooked no opposition. Her resolve left Antion and Leon unable to stop her.

Antion reluctantly produced a small magical tool from his pocket, sparking a flame at its tip. The flame danced briefly before igniting the hallucinogen at the end of the stick Aria held in her lips.

It was a new beginning, though not the kind anyone would hope for.

The first drag of the hallucinogen wasn’t remarkable. A slight acrid taste, a scratchy feeling in her throat—that was all. But as she took a few more puffs, a lightheaded sensation began to settle in, as though her mind were gently lifting away from her troubles.

“Antion, was it?”

Aria squinted at the young man who had lit the hallucinogen for her.

“Yes, Lady Aria. Antion Selmon, the eldest son of Count Selmon.”

His expression was far from cheerful. After all, he had just unwittingly introduced someone to a dangerous habit. But Aria didn’t seem to care; she smiled faintly, a glimmer of satisfaction on her lips, and placed another hallucinogen in her mouth.

At first, the effect seemed subtle, almost nonexistent. But the longer she indulged, the more her dark thoughts seemed to dissipate like smoke. The weight that had crushed her spirit lifted slightly, and she found herself laughing.

As she played chess, her once-dour demeanor melted into one of mirth, her giggles bubbling out uncontrollably. Small, trivial things seemed endlessly amusing. Her laughter spilled forth like air escaping from a punctured balloon, “Pfft… Haha… Pfft.” Her mind felt disconnected, her thoughts refusing to flow in their usual patterns.

While Aria laughed freely, Leon’s face was tight with worry, his gaze shadowed with unease.

“Lady Aria…”

His voice was low and cautious, but she merely giggled again, toying with a chess piece as though she hadn’t heard him.

“Pfft… Oh, Leon, did you call me?”

Her bright, smiling face was one Leon had never seen before. But there was something unsettling about it—it wasn’t genuine joy, but something forced, fragile, and hollow.

By now, she had gone through six hallucinogens in succession. Leon bit his lip, his frustration clear as he shifted in his seat, unable to decide how to act.

“I think… it would be best if you returned home now,” he said hesitantly.

“No.”

“…”

“If I go back, I’ll only feel worse…”

Aria leaned her head lazily against Leon’s shoulder, her golden hair swaying softly as she moved.

“Oh, Antion.”

“Yes, Lady Aria?”

“This hallucinogen feels quite good. Thank you for it.”

Antion, clearly uneasy, mumbled a faint reply. “You’re… welcome…”

He wanted to say more—to urge her to stop—but Aria cut him off.

“Can you sell these to me regularly?”

“…Excuse me?”

“Father mustn’t find out. Hmm… meeting at regular banquets to make the exchange would be safest.”

“Lady Aria, are you serious?”

Antion, flustered, cast a pleading look toward Leon, silently begging him to intervene. But this was far beyond Leon’s ability to stop.

“There’s no need to worry,” Aria said calmly, her voice eerily steady. “I’m a setting sun now anyway.”

Her self-deprecating remark tightened the crease in Antion’s brow. His expression carried a hint of pity as he gazed at her.

“If you can guarantee secrecy, I’ll pay you twice the market price,” she added with chilling nonchalance.

Neither Leon nor Antion could muster the strength to stop her.

* * *

Aria returned to the estate with her bag stuffed full of hallucinogens. Unsurprisingly, no one was waiting for her or concerned about her late arrival. She made her way to her room, intending to slip inside unnoticed, but—

“Sister?”

A saccharine voice stopped her in her tracks. In this expansive estate, there was only one person who called her “sister.” Without even glancing back, Aria quickened her pace.

Still, Leria was undeterred and followed behind her.

“Where did you go?”

Aria didn’t dignify the question with a response. It wasn’t worth her time. The carefree, floating feeling the hallucinogens had given her evaporated, replaced by cold, heavy reality. It was as if Leria had dragged her back to the ground, and the unpleasantness was almost suffocating.

Clenching her fists tightly, Aria reached for the door to her room.

“Oh, by the way, the Adamas Ring.”

At the mention of the ring, Aria froze.

“Father told me to retrieve it from you. Do you still have it?”

“…What?”

“The Adamas Ring. You can’t even use it, can you?”

Her heart plummeted. A cold shiver ran down her spine as though all the blood had drained from her body.

How does she know? That I can’t use the ring?

Did Father… tell this stand-in everything?

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She had always thought of Leria as a fake, a mere pawn brought in to hurt her. But now, to hear that the Adamas Ring—a symbol of the Wittlesbach family—was being handed over to Leria?

Could she… not be a fake?

Slowly, Aria turned to face Leria, locking eyes with her.

That golden hair and those golden eyes, so similar to her own, yet subtly different. Aria had once dismissed them as clumsy imitations, but now, she realized that was her arrogance speaking.

When their gazes met, Leria smiled sweetly, her lips curling upward in a sly, knowing smirk. Her voice was laced with mockery as she said, “You’ve clung on surprisingly long for a fraud.”

The words struck like a blow, and Aria’s vision blurred, the world tilting like a boat caught in a storm.

“Why don’t you hand over the ring while I’m still treating you like my sister?”

Leria’s voice dropped to a near whisper, but in the quiet estate, every word carried clearly to Aria’s ears.

“Father said you can’t use it anyway, since you don’t have the power of the royal bloodline.”

Aria’s fists trembled violently as humiliation coursed through her. Leria, clearly savoring the moment, pressed on.

“The maids all call me the ‘intruder,’ you know? They say the fake is trying to push out the real Wittlesbach lady.”

“…”

“But do they even know? That the so-called ‘real’ lady is nothing but an empty shell without a trace of royal power?”

Aria’s mind went blank. She couldn’t muster a response, couldn’t refute the accusation—because it was true.

When Caelius had first introduced Leria, with her similar name and appearance, Aria had dismissed it as a cheap, petty ploy to upset her. Never once had she considered that Leria might actually be Caelius’s real daughter.

In the past… there had been no such person.

But now, hearing Leria speak of the Adamas Ring, the ground beneath her seemed to crumble away. It wasn’t just her assumptions being challenged—it was her very identity.

Could I have been… the fake all along?

The thought wormed its way into her mind, and with it, the memories. There had been a time when Caelius had another child. Back then, Aria had dismissed it as something she couldn’t comprehend.

Her head bowed as despair overtook her, her gaze falling to Leria’s feet—encased in elegant shoes, no doubt a gift from Caelius.

“I know everything Father told me, so stop wasting your time and hand it over,” Leria continued, her voice light and casual.

Aria couldn’t bring herself to respond.

She had thought Leria was merely her replica, a hollow imitation. But now, she couldn’t shake the thought that perhaps she wasn’t.

“…I’ll give it to Father tomorrow. Go get it from him then,” Aria finally said.

It was the smallest act of defiance she could manage.

* * *