A Painting of the Villainess as a Young Lady

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Death is the scariest thing in this mortal realm.

It was the very antithesis to life.

The end of life. The conclusion of one’s story.

Who in this world would welcome death.

“If I die, will I be able to feel at ease?”

Who in their right mind would wish for death.

Violet, who was also Yeon Ha-yoon, recalled her death in the past.

In its own way, the mundane life she had lived was something to be proud of. Even so, it was a fact that Yeon Ha-yoon’s life was unfortunate.

Her life had been so luckless that it could be called ‘squalid’.

The matter of being impoverished couldn’t only be through poverty of the material sense. For example, if you’d like to buy something but you didn’t have enough resources for it, you’d have to sacrifice a portion of your life to get what it was that you wanted. This, too, was proof of poverty.

Which was why it had been a great act of rebellion for her to take up painting. It was the kind of rebellion that an eldest daughter could do in a family of four—with one son and one daughter.

Once upon a time, Yeon Ha-yoon thought she had talent.

But this thing she called talent, too ambiguous to be distinguished, became a shackle that had bound her. This ambiguous talent was a hole in the ground, a pit into which she had fallen.

The painting she so very liked, at some point, became a duty. From then on, she could not find joy in it any longer. And after that, the life she led was nothing special.

Even her death wasn’t all that distinct. It was a rainy day. It was an accident. She followed the pedestrian signal, yet was nonetheless killed in a traffic accident because one car skidded in the rain.

She had died relatively young. During the period in which she had just managed to stand up on her own two feet, when she was just about to try finding small things that she wanted to do…

She died and was reborn as Violet. This second life was not in the least sense mundane, yet it was arduous. She used all her strength in an endeavor to be acknowledged, and she used all her power to crush others so that they would not look down on her.

Even so, how could one say that this had been a proper life? All she did was lower other people so she could raise herself into a noble being.

It was a challenge she had taken on, yet could not win in the end. She only hurt herself. So one day, as she was filled with only malice and hostility towards all others, the young woman—whose sympathies lay only with herself—fell into a lake.

She hated Aileen. She hated that girl like hell. So she harassed the girl.

She harassed her, and harassed her again, and harassed her even more. She was so overcome by this all-consuming malice that it had inevitably turned self-destructive.

She tried to live as a dignified ducal lady. Touting her birthright, she crushed anyone and everyone who dared look down on her.

But on the day that she fell into the lake, Violet thought.

How did it turn out like this? Why did I have to become this way?

Violet was not inherently evil. Unlike Yeon Ha-yoon, Violet had been born into a wealthy household, and she was a daughter who was loved by her family.

Her two older brothers loved her enough, and her younger brother had been quite attached to her.

And regarding Aileen, her relationship with the girl wasn’t bad from the very beginning either.

Aileen was her cousin, and their ages were apart by only a few years. During their childhood, Violet took care of Aileen as if she was her younger sister. They were close because the only girl around her that was close to her age was Aileen.

It was like this until Aileen’s family had passed away from an accident. The small child was then taken into the household as Violet’s real younger sister.

At first, it was mere jealousy. No, perhaps it was just a misunderstanding.

The ducal lady, who was dying because she could not breathe underwater, thought this:

Malice is a double-edged sword. Malice unto others would inexorably return as malice unto yourself.

As a matter of fact, the malice that had returned to her was greater than even the malice Violet had actually shown to Aileen.

She was an older sister who persecuted a small child who had lost her parents; an evil little girl who bullied a child who would have already been miserable on her own even without the torment she was subjected to.

Why did hatred, spite, and malice surge within her in the way that it did?

“Nanny said something to me. The previous duchess is a gorgeous woman who has beautiful golden blonde hair, but why is Sister’s hair silver?”

Duke Everett had black hair. The late duchess had beautiful blond hair. How could a child with silver hair be born between two such people?

The innocent child had posed an innocent question. There was no malice behind her curiosity.

However, Violet got angry.

She got so angry that she shoved the younger girl straight away.

“Owwie— I-It hurts. Ugh, hiic… uwah…”

Children were smarter and sharper compared to how little adults gave them credit for.

The first time might have been just a fluke…

But the second time.

On that second time, Violet became certain.

She was only an eight-year-old kid. What was it about her that made them all hate her so much?

Even compared to six years old, eight was still young. What’s so hateful about a child, who’s just two years older than the other, that she had to take all of those people’s malice?

And after being fed with more provocation and an abundance of rumors, that malice budded into something much bigger.

It’s impossible for a little girl to bear it all.

Like waves upon waves crashing into her, the more she was expected to be perfect, the more the little girl solidified into a ‘bad child’ in their eyes.

In a current wherein it’s impossible to swim, the reprieve of respiration eluded her.