Chapter 2
Martha would step outside and stumble upon money by pure chance. She'd help someone casually, only to find out it was our cousin, the long-lost relative of the Arnold family.
Even when she went to a chapel to pray, she'd run right into the crown prince, disguised as a commoner.
Everyone said she was born under a lucky star.
Everyone loved her, even Jason.
The man I grew up with—Jason, the one who once promised to marry me—gradually turned his attention from me to her.
But what about me?
I went from being the heir of the Arnold family, adored by all, to a disgraced woman everyone could bully.
In the end, they held me down in the pond and drowned me alive.
My whole family was wiped out.
All 137 members of the Arnold family were executed—every last one beheaded.
Blood soaked every inch of brick in the Arnold family.
My father's head was displayed on the city wall for three days, and I couldn't even claim his body for burial.
Those memories were carved into my heart like knives.
The pain was so intense I could barely stand.
But I held myself together.
I knew this wasn't the moment to fall apart.
I looked up.
By the pond, a young lady in a simple dress was on her knees.
She'd rolled up her sleeves, her slender arms reaching deep into the icy water, frantically feeling around for something.
It was Martha.
I looked at her innocent-looking face, and spotted the greed she tried so hard to hide in her eyes.
I fell for that act in my previous life.
I thought she was pitiful, so I looked after her, even raised her from a servant to my personal maid.
And what did I get in return?
She used me as a stepping stone, climbing higher and higher with every step.
In the end, she dragged me straight down to hell.
I looked down at the sigil pendant in my hand.
It was warm to the touch, weighty in my hand.
It was lying right there in my palm.
As long as I didn't toss it, Martha would never get it.
If she couldn't pick it up, she'd never have that luck everyone talked about.
She'd be just another lowly maid, stuck at the bottom forever.
I clenched the pendant tightly in my fist.
The chill of the pendant pressed against my fingers.
Then I saw that in the water, a hazy reflection stared back at me.
It was me.
I was dressed in a green gown, my hair done up in a loose, falling bun, with a hairpin pinned at my temple.
That was me—eighteen years old.
I hadn't fallen in love with Jason, and they hadn't had the chance to kill me now.
I stared at my reflection, and suddenly, a smile broke out on my face.
Martha caught a sound and looked up.
When she saw me, she paused for a moment and then slipped into that familiar, gentle smile.
"Hey, Miss Arnold, why are you here? It's so damp by the pond. Don't stand around too long, or you might catch a chill," Martha said.
But as she spoke, her eyes couldn't help but flicker to my hand.
She was eyeing the pendant.
She was eyeing her luck.
I walked over, step by step.
My dress brushed over the fallen petals as I walked, my steps slow and deliberate.
I walked up to her and looked down at her.
Her smile froze.
She could see there was none of the pity or kindness I once had in my eyes, only coldness.
"Miss Arnold..." Martha called out.
I stayed silent and lifted my hand, holding the sigil pendant high above my head.
Her face fell.
She reached out on reflex, but hesitated, not daring to actually take it.
All she could do was look up at me with those wide, watery eyes, silently pleading.
I smiled.
Then, I slammed the pendant into the heart of the pond, not holding back for a second.
A dull thud was heard.
Water splashed up.
The pendant dropped to the bottom, vanishing into the muddy depths—gone without a trace.
Martha just froze.
She looked like she'd been struck by lightning, still on her knees, her eyes glued to where the pendant had sunk, all the color draining from her face.
"M-Miss Arnold..." Her voice was shaking. "That was... that was the sigil pendant. How could you do that?"
I lowered my gaze to her, watching her look so lost and broken.
She looked absolutely shattered, way better than that fake smile she flashed at me right before I died last time.
"This belongs to me," I said, my voice icy and crisp. "Even if it sinks to the bottom of the pond and rots away, you'll never get your hands on it."
Martha snapped her head up.
She stared at me, her eyes reddening, tears threatening to spill.
Her tears weren't just for show. They were real.
Big drops rolled down her cheeks.
Anyone who saw her like this would feel their heart ache for her.
But I knew, those tears weren't for the pendant.
She was crying for her luck, and for that golden future I just shattered with my own hands.
"Miss Arnold." Martha crawled closer on her knees, reaching for my dress. "You've misunderstood. I never wanted your pendant, I jus—."
"Just what?" My voice was icy.