Side Character’s Second Life

The moat was so cold it felt sharp.

I did not struggle. I let myself sink, slow and steady, as the water closed over my head.

I was almost home. I wondered, in a distant way, what flavor cakes my parents had bought this year.

In the darkness, someone clamped onto my wrist. The grip was brutal. I was hauled upward, lungs aflame as I broke the surface.

"Victoria Frostwell! Have you completely lost your mind?!"

I opened my eyes. The Grand Administrator, who had seemed calm only moments ago, was soaked from head to toe. His face had gone pale. He coughed hard, water spilling from his mouth, his gaze fixed on me as if he feared to blink.

"You think pretending to die will erase what you did to Roxy?" he snapped. "You think this makes it even?"

I met his eyes in silence.

"Then let me really die," I said. "Would that not be exactly what you want?"

He froze. Then his fierce eyes reddened at once as if struck.

"Roxy just came back," he said hoarsely. "I only didn't want her to worry about you again."

I watched the faint red creep into the corners of his eyes, and something old stirred in my chest.

When the Somerset family was condemned, Henry had been crushed by public scorn. His body was frail, his mind burdened beyond its strength. Whenever he felt wronged, he never explained himself. He would sit in silence, eyes burning red at the edges, until only my voice could soothe him.

But now, what grievance did he still have to cling to? For the past four years, it had been his unspoken orders that sent stewards and maids to torment me.

It was clear enough. I was not going to be allowed to die here.

I bent down, picked up my bundle, and turned toward the road that led home.

As soon as I took a step, Henry seized my wrist again. His grip tightened, and he stayed close behind me, step for step.

"You have always been full of schemes," he said coldly. "If I don't keep an eye on you, who knows what madness you'll attempt next. I'll hand you over to your brother. After that, I won't care what happens to you."

I stopped.

In this world, the person who wanted me dead more than anyone else was my elder brother, Vincent Frostwell.

When I was dismissed from the palace, I had not even considered returning to the Frostwell household.

Now that I thought about it, returning might give me a better chance to leave for good.

-

The Frostwell residence was in chaos. Housekeepers rushed to clean Roxanne's room. The courtyard overflowed with oleander, her favorite flowers. White and pink blossoms filled the air with a heavy scent.

Vincent stood in the yard, his face lit by a bright smile, a gift box in his hand.

The instant he saw me, the smile vanished.

"You still have the audacity to come back?" he said flatly. "I thought you would've died in the palace by now."

I stood there, stunned. I remembered a time when my brother had not been like this.

Our parents died young. From childhood onward, it was just the two of us, clinging to each other as the only family we had.

The Frostwells were a medical family. Vincent wanted to enter the palace and become head of the Royal Medical Unit.

I climbed mountains to gather herbs so we could afford his journey to the capital.

One rainy day, the trail grew slick. I slipped while collecting a rare herb and broke my leg.

That was the first time I ever saw my gentle brother lose his temper. He ran to me with one shoe missing, wrapped his arms around me, and cried. He said he would rather give up his chance to go to Crownspire than lose me.

He said that without me, he had no home. Without me, nothing held meaning.

But after we took in Roxanne, I was no longer his only little sister.

Roxanne was frail. Vincent fed her the pills I had spent years refining, medicine I planned to sell so I could buy his ceremonial clothes for entering the palace.

She found the pills bitter and spat them out when no one watched.

When I caught her and spoke sharply, my brother accused me of greed. "Victoria, are your pills really more important than Roxy's life?"

Later, when Roxanne ran away, Vincent crushed my fingers and expelled me from the family.

"A vicious person like you has no right to practice our medicine," he said. "From today on, I no longer have a sister."

The hands I had trained for over a decade were rendered useless. Even in the Withered Court, I washed clothes more slowly than the others. I endured endless contempt.

Henry's expression shifted. He hesitated, then spoke. "Roxy came back. His Highness dismissed the concubines. She couldn't accept it. Just now, right in front of me, she tried to take her own life twice."

Vincent frowned. "Women's tricks. Crying, making scenes, threatening to hang themselves. Administrator Somerset, you're young and clever. How could you be fooled by her? I know Victoria best. Someone like her would never truly choose death."

Henry's face relaxed. He shook his head with a short, self-mocking laugh, as if embarrassed by his earlier loss of control.

Vincent lifted the box and looked at me with open disdain. "I'm going to the palace to bring this to Roxy. I don't have time for you. Before I come back tonight, you'd better already be gone—"

Before he could finish, I plucked an oleander leaf from the plant beside me and placed it in my mouth.

Vincent's face drained of color.