SBFCV 02

Chapter 2

“Shh, Aria. You must never speak.”

From the moment Aria was born, her mother, Sophia, had fed her a potion without fail.

Whenever she drank it, she became completely unable to speak.

She couldn’t even cough.

“Of all things, why did something so useless have to be born!”

Aria felt wronged.

Why did she have to be beaten and cursed at by her father?

I can talk. I even have a name.

But she could only resent her mother.

A mother who only came to her to hand her a potion.

A mother who turned terrifying if Aria refused to drink it.

A mother who had never once embraced her.

A mother who never read her even a simple fairy tale, nor sang her a lullaby.

Does Mother love me… or does she hate me?

Aria didn’t know.

She could only watch as Sophia grew thinner by the day.

She learned the truth in the spring of her tenth year.

Sophia died.

Her vocal cords were completely torn apart.

“They say she killed herself. Rather ruthlessly, too.”

It was only after overhearing the maids that Aria came to understand everything.

All this time, Sophia had been protecting her from Count Cortez.

I was… a Siren…

A Siren.

Named after an ancient mythical creature, it was the ability that flowed through Sophia’s bloodline.

The power to enchant, heal, manipulate, and shake the emotions of others through song.

Twelve years ago, Count Cortez had kidnapped a Siren—believed only to exist in legend—and presented her to the world.

That Siren was Aria’s mother.

So that’s how I was born?

Her whole body trembled.

Before she could even recover from the shock, Count Cortez unleashed violence on Aria like never before.

“You damned girl! How dare you try to run away from me! Leaving only some worthless brat behind!”

It hurt. So much.

That day, Aria cried as though she were dying—using pain as her only excuse.

I have to run away.

The thought had crossed her mind.

But she was only ten years old.

Without her mother’s protection, discovery was only a matter of time.

And then, one day, it happened.

“Aaagh!”

She couldn’t endure the pain and screamed.

“Haha, of course! There’s no way a Siren’s daughter can’t speak. How dare you deceive me all this time….”

“S–Stop… please!”

“Such a perfect voice. Pure and soft like a feather… a true angel’s voice…”

Thus Aria inherited her mother’s fate as a Siren.

The powerful begged her to sing—offering their fortunes, kissing the tops of her feet.

Secret gatherings of royals and nobles became meetings solely to hear a Siren’s voice.

She was subjected to horrors.

She saw things no one should see.

She heard things no one should hear.

I never wanted to know any of this.

Every day she prayed.

Please, save me.

But God never answered.

Her overwhelming talent only made her songs more famous.

People began worshipping her like a divine being—begging her to save them.

But then rumors spread across the empire.

The Siren was not an angel using God’s voice—she was a monster, as the legend said.

“It deceived all of you.”

Saint Veronica stood before the crowd, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Most of the palace officials have lost their minds, addicted to the Siren’s song. Even His Majesty the Emperor….”

Seeing the saint’s tears, the crowd stirred.

The nobles’ madness.

The emperor’s tyranny.

The empire’s decline and corruption.

All because of the Siren.

The Siren was a fraud.

Not a holy being, but a wicked monster.

The only true divine being was Saint Veronica of the Holy Empire.

The angry masses shouted:

“The royal family is finished! Because of that monster!”

“We must purify the palace!”

“Saint Veronica should rule!”

“This isn’t treason—it’s a holy war!”

The gentle saint trembled her delicate shoulders.

War meant sacrifice.

After a moment of pained hesitation, she lifted her head with resolve.

Her golden hair shimmered in the sunlight behind her.

“I will save them.”

“Waaaaaah!”

“To prevent further innocent deaths, I will purify the palace and deliver God’s grace.”

Saint Veronica.

She was the perfect protagonist of a hero’s tale.

And Aria became the villain who destroyed the empire.

Did I really drive them insane?

Even Aria couldn’t be sure anymore.

Everyone said it was her fault—royals, nobles, commoners alike—so perhaps it was true.

War began.

Men, women, and even children were conscripted.

They dragged anyone who resisted.

Screams filled the air. Countless bodies were strewn across the ground.

The holy knights called the massacre “cleansing.”

“Kill the monster!”

The furious mob rose.

To calm the people, the emperor hid Aria deep within the palace.

“Execution? Of course not. You’ll spend your life singing for me.”

He broke her legs, stuffed her into a birdcage, and gagged her.

Who knew how long she was kept there—starved and confined like livestock.

One day, Aria coughed up blood.

So this is how I die.

She stared at her blood-soaked palm and clenched her fist.

Fine. Let’s just die.

If the last Siren died, no one else would suffer what she did.

She accepted death.

But even as she resigned herself, a pitch-black emotion rose from the rotting core of her heart.

“Shall I… kill them all for you?”

Aria flinched and turned her head.

Lloyd Cardenas Valentine.

The Devil Duke—who murdered his own kin and household at eighteen—whispered to her.

To a dying girl trapped in the emperor’s cage.

“You’re looking at me like you want me.”

“You? I want you?”

“No, you want the devil.”

The Duke of Valentine.

A tyrant as cruel as the emperor, a murderer, a worshipper of demons.

Rumor had it he sold his family’s souls in a pact with a devil.

“Call me if you need me.”

“Your song reaches anywhere.”

It felt like the devil himself was offering a contract for her soul.

Kill them all…?

She was already dying. Revenge meant nothing.

A bird with broken wings couldn’t fly even if the cage was opened.

But at the edge of death, Aria finally—

“Come, sweet death.”

—summoned the devil.

The Duke stormed the palace armed with nothing but an old sword handle.

He slaughtered everyone who stood in his way.

Everyone—except Aria.

Flames rose. Screams filled the palace.

In that night of terror, only Aria, held in the Duke’s arms, saw a light of salvation behind him.

“Shame. If I’d come sooner, I might’ve heard your song one more time.”

“I wanted to hear how a freed Siren would sing.”

She answered weakly.

“Did my song corrupt you too?”

“No. I corrupted you.”

He lazily grabbed the finest medicinal herbs scattered nearby, stuffed them into a pipe, and placed it between his lips.

“Let’s fall into hell together.”

The Duke exhaled a puff of gray smoke, curling his red lips.

“What a pity. If you hadn’t summoned me, you might’ve gone to heaven.”

Hell.

It certainly looked like hell.

The corpses of royals and nobles, the red puddles staining the floor, the lifeless husk of the palace.

And the emperor is dead.

God had commanded forgiveness.

To sacrifice oneself.

To deny oneself.

But even at death’s door, the taste of revenge bestowed by the devil was unbearably sweet.

If the price was hell—

She was willing to fall.

“I want to sing.”

For the first time, Aria wanted to sing of her own will.

“Let me hear it.”

Her voice barely came out—more like the shape of words than sound.

But the Duke listened.

The devil who dragged me to hell.

My savior.

The pressure on her heart faded.

Her senses drifted—sight, sound, feeling—slipping away as if sinking into a deep sleep.

When she took her final breath, a faint smile touched her lips.

Aria died—completely.

But the moment she died—

Flower scent…

She smelled spring.

This… isn’t hell.

Her eyes flew open.

The attic ceiling—where she’d lived until age ten—filled her vision.

She inhaled deeply.

Air filled her lungs easily—strangely,

I’m not hurting anymore.

She desperately touched her face.

No burn marks.

She sat up. Her legs didn’t limp.

The bars are gone.

She wasn’t trapped. She was free.

Her hands, her legs, her voice—all under her control.

This isn’t a dream.

Deep inside, something blazed with life.

This sensation couldn’t be a dream.

Aria ran to the tiny window and looked outside.

Petals fluttered—the sign that winter had ended.

Spring.

The sky, trees, wind, flowers, sunlight.

A radiant world she thought she’d never see again.

Aria reached out the window and clasped a drifting petal between her hands like a prayer.

“Ah.”

She had returned. From the brink of death.

A chance to redo everything.

“…I can speak.”

She hadn’t drunk the potion.

Which meant this was after her mother’s death.

And since she was still in the attic, her father hadn’t yet discovered her voice.

Father.

Count Cortez.

The one who ruined my life.

This time, she could take revenge.

That was her very first thought.

Before shock or confusion—revenge filled her mind.

He’s probably drinking.

There was only one place he’d drink at this hour.

Aria went to find him.

“Kyaa!”

“Huh? Y–You…?”

“What, how…?”

When she opened the attic door without hesitation and walked downstairs, the maids stared, stunned.

Aria brushed past them.

She found him in the wine cellar.

“What are you…?”

The Count was completely drunk, unable to grasp the situation.

A face asking why she was here. Then twisting. His hand groping for a whip.

But when Aria began to sing—

His face froze in horror.