The Grim Reaper Dies
The wind whispered through the reeds like crashing waves, filling my ears.
The poison coursing through my veins had blurred my vision long ago. The searing blood rising from my gut made every breath a struggle.
I lay collapsed with my face buried in the filthy mud, barely able to lift my eyes.
The man I had trusted more than anyone in this world—the man I had loved more than anyone—was smiling with cold mockery.
To think that my one and only lover could speak with such venom in his voice. And to only discover that truth on the day I died.
It was almost enough to make me laugh.
Ian Angel.
My one and only lover, and the vice-leader of Angel's Breath, the continent's greatest assassin guild.
Did I truly not know?
No. In truth, I had always known what kind of man he was. Thorough. Cold. A man who cared for nothing but the mission before him. I had simply hoped I would be his one exception.
Ian stepped on the dagger buried in my back, driving it deeper. Then he crouched down, seized my face, and forced my eyes to meet his.
Within those desolate gray eyes burned a fierce flame. Once, I had found those eyes madly lovable. Now, they filled me with nothing but resentment.
"Why... why..."
I barely managed to speak, desperate for even a reason, but he only sneered.
Ian wore an expression I had never seen before as he murmured softly.
If the man who had just stabbed me in the back looked sorrowful, did that make me the crazy one?
He remained silent for a long moment before suddenly rising to his feet. My face fell back into the mud.
He turned away without a shred of mercy. A chill radiated from his back.
As Ian walked away, the black figures waiting behind him sprang forward. Their movements were swift, as though they had been awaiting his command.
The black-clad assassins approached with torches. One of them emptied a container of oil over my body, not missing a single inch.
"I-Ian, please..."
I struggled to move my lips, but my pleas meant nothing to them. Without hesitation, they hurled the torches onto me.
The oil-fed flames roared black and fierce, hungry enough to consume bone. I felt my entire body crumbling away before I could even scream.
Whether by fortune or misfortune, the poison had spread so thoroughly that I felt no pain.
Is this my end?
For someone who had clawed and fought to survive, it was a pathetically wretched death.
At last, I slowly closed my eyes.
The day the blade of the man I loved more than anything pierced straight through me. The day the flames devoured a body that still clung to breath. I lost everything.
The organization I had given my life to. The lover I had cherished more than life itself. The life I had clung to more stubbornly than anyone.
"Mama!"
Twenty years spent living as an assassin. The nature of the job had forged my heart into steel; I had been certain nothing could surprise me anymore.
This time was different. Severely so.
"Nanny! Mama, please!"
I opened my eyes at the bizarre sound. The first things I saw were an unfamiliar ceiling and a strange ball of golden fluff.
"Nanny, Ria's hungry!"
The golden fluff ball that had climbed onto me without permission continued to whine.
...Did fluff balls talk?
More importantly, I was certain I had died in that reed field.
"Haaah—!"
I bolted upright like a drowning woman dragged back to shore, gasping violently.
"Kyaaaang!"
The talking golden fluff ball shrieked and rolled off the bed into the corner.
I reflexively patted my face and body. My breathing and pulse were normal. My skin still held warmth.
Yes. I was still alive.
"Nanny, why are you like that?"
The small fluff ball kept tilting its head, as if my reaction confused it. But I had no time to ease its bewilderment.
"A mirror. Where is a mirror?"
"Mirror? Over there."
At my urgent question, the fluff ball kindly pointed the way. I rushed in that direction.
Inside the crudely decorated mirror stood a stranger.
"What... is this?"
The sight in the mirror was so absurd it made me doubt the death I had clearly experienced.
I slowly lifted a lock of hair. The stranger in the mirror did the same.
Forgetting to breathe, I slowly lowered it again. After staring at the mirror in a daze, I slapped both cheeks hard.
Slap!
"Ow!"
The pain was so sharp it drew a groan from my throat. At this point, I had no choice but to accept it, no matter how much I wished to deny it.
I had died and woken up in someone else's body. Such an impossible thing had happened to me.
"Nanny, why hit? Don't hit! It hurts!"
The fluff ball ran over and tugged at my skirt, but I couldn't spare it any attention. The reality before me was too shocking.
I studied the new 'me' in the mirror carefully.
The short red hair I had kept cropped to reveal my nape was gone. In its place, lustrous dark brown hair cascaded all the way to my chest.
Nor had only my hair changed. My sharp, sensitive features had become soft and innocent. My harshly trained, powerful body had become weak and delicate.
"Ha."
I let out a hollow sigh.
In short, I had become an entirely different person from head to toe. The only thing that remained unchanged were my green eyes, still carrying that mysterious golden hue.
I sighed briefly upon finding that small trace of my former self, but the questions still swirling in my mind left me numb.
I definitely died. So why am I alive?
Why? For what possible reason?
Just then, someone knocked on the door.
"Lady Brown, are you inside?"
It was all happening far too suddenly. My already struggling mind went completely blank.
An unfamiliar face, an unfamiliar room, an unfamiliar voice. My heart raced and refused to calm.
The fluff ball behind me whispered, "Witch grandma! It's the witch grandma!"
Witch grandma?
I looked down at the fluff ball. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't a ball of fur at all, but a young girl. She looked about four or five years old, with messy golden curls, large blue eyes, and a golden dress. She was so thoroughly golden that she really did resemble a fluff ball at first glance.
Her words weren't particularly helpful. I pressed my throbbing temples and closed my eyes.
Calm down, Kyla Angel. Remember who you are.
Self-suggestion had always worked. I quickly regained my composure and began analyzing my surroundings out of habit.
The words I heard through the door earlier were the continental common tongue.
The only nation that used the common tongue in everyday speech was the Ventrum Empire. Therefore, this place had to be somewhere within the Ventrum Empire.
For someone born and raised in the Ventrum Empire, that was at least somewhat hopeful.
I scanned the room once more with sharpened eyes.
Silk wallpaper on all sides—and of excellent quality.
Although trade with the Eastern Continent had lowered the price of silk, it remained a luxury item at its core.
This is likely the residence of at least a count or higher.
The furniture filling the room consisted of artworks commoners could scarcely dream of acquiring.
However...
One thing felt off: the clothes I was wearing. The fabric was fine, but the design was far too plain. It didn't seem like something a noble lady or princess would wear.
Calluses on the hands, and the heels of the shoes are too low.
The cuffs and hem were even slightly worn. Compared to the child's clothing, the difference was stark.
I examined the girl's dress. It was high-quality silk that only the highest nobles would wear.
Was the original owner of this body the child's maid?
Another knock sounded from outside.
"Rachel Brown, I know you're in there! Open the door this instant!"
The voice carried clear irritation.
"One moment."
I chose words that would raise no suspicion and answered. Then I approached the door slowly.
The moment I turned the handle and opened it, the owner of the voice appeared. A middle-aged woman pushed her way in before the door had fully opened. Her attire suggested she was a maid, and a rather high-ranking one.
The head maid, perhaps.
At that moment, a storm of scolding fiercer than arrows rained down on me.
"If you entered with a letter of recommendation, you should at least do your job properly!"
Her shrill tone made me frown despite myself.
"How can a nanny be this lazy and still expect to care for Their Highnesses!"
It was unfortunate for the woman venting her passion, but I had no idea what she was talking about.
Nanny? Their Highnesses?
The troublesome words made a thin line form between my brows.
Wait—Their Highnesses?
Only then did I notice the emblem engraved on the doorknob: a silver stag encircled by laurel leaves. It was unmistakably the symbol of the imperial family.
Damn it.
There was no mistake. The place where I had opened my eyes was the imperial palace of the Ventrum Empire.
It felt exactly like a dream. Had my cheeks not still stung, I might have believed it was one.
I couldn't believe I had died and been reborn—let alone that the place I woke up was the imperial palace.
This is going to be troublesome.
The imperial palace. Due to my profession, I had visited it more often than my own home, yet it remained one of the places I dreaded most. The reason was simple: it was the filthiest, most despicable place in the entire empire.
When I remained silent and dazed, the woman frowned, sensing something was wrong.
"Rachel? Are you listening to me?"
"Ah... my head hurts a little..."
I averted my gaze and let my words trail off deliberately. She was using polite speech with me, so her status likely wasn't exceptionally high, but I couldn't be careless. Ambiguous politeness might make me seem even more suspicious.
At that moment, the golden fluff ball who had been hiding behind me popped out.
"Your Highness Emilia. So this is where you were. I was worried when you vanished without a word."
"U-um."
The child gave a vague reply to the head maid and quickly hid behind me again.
I had wondered why her clothes were of such exceptional quality. As expected, she was someone precious.
Though I hadn't expected her to be an imperial princess.
The head maid gave the child a disapproving look before turning her criticism back to me.
"While you were absent from your post, His Highness Edwin disappeared. Do you have any idea how much commotion the annex maids caused when they came running to me? To think that the person recommended by Lady Conrad can't even handle her own duties..."
She jerked her chin toward the door in irritation.
"Hurry up and find him. Honestly, bothering others over every trivial little thing..."
She shook her head as though she had a headache and left the room without waiting for my reply.
Did she only come to nag? How diligent of her.
I stared blankly at the closed door for a moment, then rushed back to the mirror. An unfamiliar woman still stared back at me from within it.
No—at this point, that woman was 'me.'
"...Rachel Brown?"
The head maid had called me Rachel Brown. She had also said that Rachel Brown entered the palace on the recommendation of Lady Conrad.
And on top of that, I...
"Nanny? What are you doing?"
The child was still watching me with those bright, round eyes. Looking at the tiny girl who barely reached my waist, I couldn't help but sigh.
"...Me, a nanny?"