Chapter 3
No one even thought to stop him.
The price of failing to protect Litia—of failing to properly watch over her—was nothing short of shocking.
After that, Litia was too frightened to even think about leaving her room on her own. She simply couldn’t.
And once she had barely managed to steady herself, she wasn’t allowed to go out freely anyway.
Every time she tried, she heard the same excuses over and over:
“The Duke has given orders.”
“The Duke says you need more rest.”
“The Duke has forbidden you from going out.”
That was when she understood.
In this house, the word of Duke Gies Roman Mont—the head of the family—was law. Without her father’s permission, she could not step outside. Not for a week. Not for a month. Not even a single step beyond the door. If she wanted even a simple outing, she had to obey quietly and avoid displeasing him.
She didn’t like it—but that was the reality she was trapped in.
After hesitating, Litia finally reached for the doorknob and opened the door to greet her father, the Duke of Mont.
“Tia. You were awake.”
“O-oh… you’ve come?”
A tall, middle-aged man with the same silver hair and piercing blue eyes appeared. His hair was neatly swept back. If you examined his features closely, he resembled Litia—and her brother Ellar—almost frighteningly so. The only difference was that his face looked colder, sharper, more calculating.
“May I come in?”
“Ah… y-yes. Please.”
Litia stepped aside to let him in. They sat across from each other at the table, but the emotional distance between them felt as wide as an ocean.
“At least you look better than you did a few days ago. That’s a relief.”
“I’m sorry for making you worry.”
At that, the Duke fell silent for a long moment. Then he spoke, his voice heavy.
“What have you done to worry me? This is all my fault—for failing to notice how much you were struggling. I was negligent. I’m truly sorry.”
With those words, he lowered his head deeply. For someone who hadn’t shown his face once in a week and had completely restricted her movements, his expression was filled with concern.
Then his shoulders began to tremble.
A single drop fell from his bowed face and splashed onto the table.
A tear.
Litia stiffened and shifted back slightly in her chair. This wasn’t how he was described in the novel, was it? The word father stuck in her throat, but she had to say something.
“…Please don’t cry. This was all my fault, Father.”
“…No. I didn’t realize how much pain you were hiding. I was careless.”
“I didn’t want to be a burden. But I won’t do that anymore.”
Perhaps it worked. After a moment, the Duke’s tears finally stopped.
“Please promise me this, Tia. Promise you’ll never do something so reckless again. Promise you won’t hide things anymore.”
For now, Litia nodded, more to calm him than anything else.
“Yes. I will. I’ll do as you say. So please don’t cry. I’ll remember things soon, too.”
“Don’t.”
He stopped her.
Litia looked up in surprise, and the Duke’s face twisted as if in pain.
“I don’t want you to suffer more. Don’t force yourself to remember and hurt yourself. Do things at your own pace.”
“…Yes. I’ll do as you say, Father.”
“Good. Thank you. From now on, tell me everything. That’s all I came to say. You should rest.”
The Duke stood to leave.
Just before the door fully closed, Litia quietly grabbed the doorknob and pressed herself close, leaving a narrow gap.
Something felt wrong.
“Do not take your eyes off Litia for even a moment. The rumors outside haven’t settled yet—stay alert.”
“Yes. We’ll follow your orders.”
“Make sure she doesn’t do anything strange again. Do not let her leave.”
Then the footsteps faded away.
‘Of course.’
It had all been an act.
The novel had clearly described him as a man who valued honor above family, someone who hated loss more than death itself. She’d almost been fooled by his performance just now.
He wasn’t worried about Litia as his daughter—he was afraid that the potential future Tenia, the so-called Daughter of God, might be ruined. This was nothing more than an emergency measure.
Because that’s what this place was.
This world’s structure had been clearly laid out from the beginning.
Ateon was a world where those with supernatural abilities held power—divided distinctly between those of light and those of darkness.
Those born with the power of light were called Theos, said to be blessed by the Light God, Athes.
In simpler terms, the power of light was divine power—and those who possessed it became the nobility. Ordinary people without divine power were called Theoris, “those who had lost the light,” a category that included commoners and slaves.
From birth, one’s class—and life—was already decided.
Among the Theos, however, there existed an exceptional figure.
That was Tenia.
Tenia was the highest title—granted only to those who received a divine oracle—revered as the Daughter of God.
In other words, a Saintess.
Those chosen as Tenia were said to wield power far greater than what they were born with. And the person most widely believed to be the next Tenia—
Was Litia herself.
Only three Tenia could exist at a time. Every ten years, when a new oracle descended, one of the existing three would lose that title and revert to their original power, making room for the newcomer.
No one knew who it would be. Some held the title for a lifetime; others lost it after only ten years.
Nobles coveted the position not only for its authority, but for its freedom.
Even as a Saintess, one was merely affiliated with the Temple. Residence was freely chosen, and marriage was permitted.
Still, most Tenia voluntarily chose celibacy, believing the title demanded purity. So few ever married.
Opposed to the Theos were beings labeled demons, outlaws, impurities—
The Orb, wielders of dark power.
Even the word Orb was coined by the nobility—simply meaning “darkness.” They were far fewer in number than either Theos or Theoris and were said to move under a single leader.
Some claimed they were half-bloods of ancient demonkind. Others said they had made contracts with demons—or were monstrous beasts wearing human skins.
Wherever they resided became a nation in itself.
They were vastly outnumbered, but their power was overwhelming. Otherwise, the so-called “impurities” would never have been left alone.
The territory they controlled lay far to the east—an enormous island completely separated from the continent.
Kesnika.
Split cleanly into north and south—Borea and Setea—it was home to beasts unseen elsewhere, making it nearly inaccessible.
According to the novel, Theos and Orb only interacted when absolutely necessary. Some people lived their entire lives without ever encountering one.
Meeting an Orb was rarer than finding a needle in the desert.
Litia, the protagonist, possessed an exceptionally strong light even among the Theos, standing on the brink of receiving the Tenia oracle.
Then—just as she was all but confirmed to become Tenia—she made a drastic choice.
And died.
Only after that did the true protagonist of the novel appear.
Litia Eulunie Bellus Mont was meant to die in that lake.
The true female lead who replaced her was named Kamiya—a commoner with a similar appearance.
Unlike Litia, who had lived under constant attention, Kamiya had a tragic life.
Born to a Theos father and a Theoris mother, she was abandoned—only to be reclaimed once her light manifested.
From there, the story truly began. Romance with the Crown Prince. Growth. A happy ending.
But for that to happen—
Litia had to die.
And yet, here she was. Alive.
Then what happened to Kamiya?
“…If you didn’t want to live like that, you could’ve at least taken revenge before dying. Running away like that—what kind of ending is that?”
She almost felt wronged herself.
And that so-called father, worrying more about tarnished honor than his daughter’s life.
It made her heart ache. Different lives—but somehow, just as pitiful as her own terminal one.
The problem was this:
She only knew the broad strokes of this world.
Everything else, she’d have to uncover herself.
And to do that, she needed freedom.
This wasn’t a prison. It wasn’t a hospital room.
She couldn’t live under surveillance forever.
