I Possessed the Body of a Sickly Princess

Chapter 2: Rumors and Truth

Ariel von Leonhardt.

The youngest daughter of the Leonhardt ducal house, the first swordmaster’s lineage.

Yet, born with a frail body and not a shred of martial talent, she was an outcast within her own family.

At the same time, as the child of a concubine, she was scorned by other noble families—an utterly worthless existence.

A fragile body that spent its days confined to a sickbed, fainting as often as eating.

And yet, because she held the title of a duke’s daughter, she was treated like a burdensome asset, with people lining up to either use her or eliminate her.

"I don’t know how I ended up in this body, but..."

Slowly, I sit up.

A slight dizziness washes over me—who knows how long I’ve been lying down?—but a few blinks clear it away.

My gaze falls on the pristine white blanket covering my body.

Its pallor reminds me of a shroud laid over the dead, and the corner of my lips curls upward.

Not bad.

Recalling what I saw at the brink of death, I take in my surroundings.

This pleasant sensation—it was almost enjoyable.

Even at the very edge of death, I had managed to purchase silence itself.

Remembering the final, final moments, I let a delighted smile spread across my face.

"It's cold."

I shove aside the heavy blanket draped over my legs and stretch them toward the cold marble floor.

The icy sensation pricks at my toes, making my body instinctively recoil, but I step forward without hesitation.

One foot first, then the other.

Lowering both feet, I use the bed as support and rise to stand.

I wobble briefly like a newborn lamb, but the moment I find my balance on two legs, a small thrill surges through me.

A second life, a second chance.

I can’t let it go to waste.

"I don't particularly like having a weak body, but..."

I shift my gaze toward the mirror standing in the corner of the room.

Snow-white hair, crimson eyes like spilled blood.

An albino.

Since this world lacked the concept, all people did was whisper nonsense about being cursed or possessed by a demon.

A rare appearance worth more than a king’s ransom.

How could anyone look at this and think of curses or demons?

If only this wasn’t my body, I might have actually enjoyed this situation.

"This… isn’t bad at all."

A frail body could be improved over time.

The more pressing issue was the environment surrounding this body’s original owner.

A father who cared nothing for his family affairs, a mother who was already dead, and siblings who took pleasure in tormenting me.

Servants and retainers who neither respected nor recognized their master, going so far as to bite at her like wild dogs.

It was laughable.

And that made it all the more amusing.

I listen closely to the soft footsteps approaching from beyond the door.

Crossing my legs as if in a dance, my body tilts naturally into a spin.

A swirl of fabric, the door swinging open at the same time.

A maid, frozen in shock.

And me, smiling brightly.

A hunch tells me—this life will be fun.

***

Sophia was one of the maids employed at the illustrious Leonhardt ducal house.

More precisely, she was the personal maid assigned to Ariel, the youngest daughter.

Some might say she should be honored to serve a noble of the ducal family, but Sophia felt no such gratitude.

Ariel was ignored by everyone, treated as if she didn’t exist.

Her fellow maid, who had entered the house alongside her, had been promoted to serve the eldest son. Sophia had hoped for the same, but instead, she was assigned to the youngest daughter.

To put it bluntly, her future was doomed.

Once assigned as a personal maid, the only ways to leave were if her charge died—or if she did.

A maid bound to the most insignificant member of the house.

It was as if fate itself was foreshadowing her bleak, sunless future.

"Sophia."

"...Diana."

Eyes filled with feigned concern.

Sophia wasn’t foolish enough to miss the mockery hidden behind them.

Diana always acted as if she cared, but in truth, she reveled in the misfortune Sophia had to endure, savoring her own superiority.

Frankly, Sophia wanted nothing to do with her.

Every meeting only reinforced how utterly worthless her situation was.

Yes, the eldest son, Luke, had recently been honored with a royal commendation.

Meanwhile, her lady had been in a coma for a full week.

"Is the lady all right?"

"Nothing has changed."

The words came out blunt and indifferent.

Sophia nearly clamped a hand over her own mouth, but once spoken, she had to act as if nothing was amiss to avoid getting in trouble.

The truth she could never voice aloud—she wished her lady would just hurry up and die.

It was a miracle she was even still alive, considering how frail she was.

As Diana prattled on, Sophia barely listened, instead thinking about her charge and her own future.

Then, Diana stepped away.

"Well then, see you later, Sophia."

"...Yeah."

Watching Diana’s cheerful figure disappear down the hall, carrying a basket full of laundry, Sophia’s steps felt heavier than ever.

Future, huh?

She had once believed hers would be brilliant and dazzling.

For a fleeting moment, she wished she could trade places with Diana.

If that were my position, I’d be so much happier.

I’d fit that role far better than that idiot Diana.

But it was an impossible dream.

Sophia sighed.

As a maid serving a girl who might soon die, there was little else she could do.

"...She should just die already."

If her charge died, she’d be reassigned.

Of course, if a noble child perished, there might be an inquiry from the higher-ups.

But Ariel von Leonhardt was already a discarded child.

No, more than that—she was nothing more than a waste of money, her worsening illness draining unnecessary funds.

The ducal house only kept up appearances for the sake of honor.

If she were to vanish, there would be no mourning—only relief.

Sophia included.

"...Or maybe, I should just kill her myself?"

The whispered words startled her.

She clamped a hand over her mouth, scanning her surroundings in fear.

No one had heard her.

At this hour, there shouldn’t be anyone nearby.

This is all her fault.

If only the lady didn’t have those cursed white locks and blood-red eyes.

If only she were a little healthier.

If she wasn’t healthy, then at least she could have had talent in the sword.

Pointless.

No matter how many "ifs" she conjured, her reality wouldn’t change.

That truth ignited a fire in her chest.

A dark, smoldering desire wrapped around her like a suffocating shroud.

"So what if I do it?"

If she got caught, she’d die.

If she didn’t—her future would be brighter.

A surge of confidence filled her.

Changing direction, Sophia headed toward her lady’s chambers.

Her footsteps quickened, her heartbeat pounding in sync.

Her frail lady would be lying in bed.

All she had to do was press her slender throat with both hands.

It wasn’t difficult.

Easier than snapping a chicken’s neck.

Step. Step.

Her strides grew faster.

The closer she got, the tighter she clenched her fists.

Fear had long since left her.

She was already envisioning the future that awaited after the lady’s death.

At last, she reached the door.

She swallowed dryly.

Without hesitation, she opened it—

And froze.

A chill seeped into her bones, locking her in place.

Her mind scrambled to reject what she was seeing, but the sheer presence of the figure before her was too vivid, too undeniable.

"You’re here."

Ariel was awake.

And she was smiling.

***

The moment the door opened, I felt it.

A festering, sticky bloodlust.

Her rough breathing, clenched fists, dilated pupils.

That look of someone about to do something irreversible.

Had she taken something?

I sift through my memories, recalling details about her.

"Sophia."

A maid. Ariel von Leonhardt’s personal maid.

Ambitious for power, cunning but fundamentally pessimistic.

I blink slowly.

She flinches at the sound of my voice.

Amusing.

Though her hands were empty, she hid them behind her back like a child caught with a weapon.

A coward who only had the courage to kill when her target was defenseless.

Even as an outcast, was there any need for my maid to be this useless?

"10 gold."

"...What?"

"The price for offending me."

Her stunned expression—oh, how hilarious.

It had been a long time since I’d been this entertained.

My mood lifted.

The rumor would spread soon enough.

That the weak, worthless daughter of the Leonhardt family…

Had truly become possessed by a demon.