The Lady Nun Seeks Justice

Chapter 1 Anyone Than Your Daughter

A sharp, mocking voice dripped through the dim chamber like poison. "Well, well, what's the matter, sis? Not gonna eat? Come on, don't be shy now."

Eliza Stonor lay sprawled across the cold stone floor, bloody and bruised, barely breathing. Iron chains clinked softly as she shifted—every weak movement met with resistance.

They looped tight around her neck and limbs, keeping her pinned like a caged beast.

Across from her stood Sophie Stonor, dressed in a cheerful butter-yellow gown that felt almost obscene in the gloomy room.

She held a bowl of dog food, swaying it lightly in her hands, grinning as if she were teasing a pet instead of tormenting her own sister.

Sophie clicked her tongue in exaggerated disappointment, then turned to the maid behind her. "God, look at her. She can't even play dead right, let alone act like a proper mutt. And I'm feeding her myself—what more does she want?"

The maid didn't hesitate. She stepped forward and landed a vicious kick to Eliza's side. A choked grunt slipped from Eliza's lips.

Sucking up, the maid added with a sneer, "My lady, don't waste your time. This bitch probably still thinks she's the Duke's precious little princess. Dreaming of silks and titles while lying in her own filth."

Sophie let out a cold laugh, the sound sharp enough to cut glass. "Eliza Stonor? Princess? Please. Even Father and the boys won't acknowledge her anymore. Being my dog is the best she'll ever be. She should be thanking me.

"But no. She just doesn't know what's good for her."

Sophie ground her heel into Eliza's hand. A sickening crack echoed in the room, followed by a muffled whimper.

Sophie leaned down, voice low and deadly. "One last chance, Eliza. Hand over the pendant."

Eliza's vision blurred, but a faint, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Sophie... in your dreams."

That pendant was her mother's last gift—her only tether to a love long gone. She'd die before letting Sophie lay a finger on it.

"You stubborn bitch!" Sophie snapped, eyes blazing. "You really wanna die that bad?!"

At that moment, the chamber door flew open with a thunderous slam. Several figures rushed in, their shadows slicing across the floor like blades.

Sophie spun around fast, panic flashing in her eyes. She shoved the bowl into the maid's arms, who quickly stashed it out of sight.

And just like that, Sophie's face morphed into a picture of innocence.

She bounced forward, voice syrupy sweet. "Father! Brothers! What are you all doing here?"

The newcomers were none other than Gabriel Stonor, Duke of Mowbay of Bortenland, and his four sons.

The Duke—tall, broad, and commanding—carried the air of a man used to being obeyed.

His sons, every one of them cut from the same mold, were strikingly handsome and carried themselves with an aristocratic ease that demanded attention.

Some looked cold, some a bit wicked, but the moment Sophie called out in that soft, sugary voice, even the harshest among them softened, their expressions warming as they looked at her.

Dylan Stonor, the second eldest, barely glanced at Eliza's crumpled form before turning to Sophie. "So, Sophie—did she give it back yet? The pendant?"

'It wasn't stolen! I didn't steal it! It's mine!' Eliza wanted to scream, but her lips wouldn't move.

Her voice, like everything else she once had, had been stripped away.

"No." Sophie let out a long, weary sigh, her voice soft but brimming with heartache.

Her eyes glistened as she whispered, "Eliza. She knew how much that pendant meant to me—it's the only thing I have left from Mother. My only connection to her.

"I begged her, over and over, but she just wouldn't give it back. I've tried everything. I really don't know what else to do..."

Her voice trembled at the end, catching in her throat. Tears threatened to spill, and the weight of her pain fell heavy over the room.

Dylan clenched his fists. The sorrow in Sophie's voice hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Eliza Stonor," he said sharply, fury barely contained beneath the surface. "I can't even begin to describe how disappointed I am in you."

At the doorway, the third eldest, Matthew Stonor, narrowed his eyes, the shadows sharpening across his face.

In one swift, fluid motion, cold steel flashed in his hand as his blade slid free. "You've got some damn nerve. You really think we're just gonna stand around and let you screw with us?

"If you're not gonna talk, I'll start cutting. One hand for the first question. Still stubborn? Then the feet go next. You stole from Sophie—I wanna see if your bones are as damn tough as your attitude."

"That's enough." Benedict Stonor's voice cut clean through the tension, calm and authoritative. "Someone saw her. Right before she was dragged back, she panicked... and swallowed something."

Eliza froze. A flicker of fear crossed her face, just for a moment—but it was enough. Her eyes darted to the side. She was caught.

Realization dawned across the brothers' faces.

"You swallowed it?!" Dylan shouted, eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you insane? You'd rather swallow the pendant than give it back to Sophie?!"

Eliza let out a dry, manic laugh. Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "Yes! I am insane! What choice did I have?

"Sophie ruined everything—my name, my future—and now she wants to take the last thing Mother left me? Why shouldn't I lose it?!"

She yanked hard against the iron chains around her wrists, the harsh clang echoing in the small chamber like a scream. "You want the pendant? Fine. You've got two choices: let it go... or cut me open and take it yourselves!"

Silence fell. Faces turned grim. Even Anthony Stonor, the fourth brother, usually cold as marble, looked shaken.

Slowly, all of them turned to face one man. Gabriel Stonor—their father. The Duke. The only one who could decide what came next.

Sophie's voice broke the stillness, soft but aching. "Father... I miss Mother."

In that moment, Eliza saw it—a shift in Gabriel's expression, a crack in his composed facade. He hesitated.

And just like that, she knew. She'd lost.

Gabriel closed his eyes, letting out a long, weary sigh. "Eliza... don't hold it against your brothers. If anyone's to blame, it's me."

His voice dropped, rough with regret. "If there's a next life... and you're born as my daughter again—" he paused, the words catching in his throat, "I swear, I'll make it right. I won't fail you a second time."

Eliza let out a bitter laugh, her lips curling into a twisted smile, tears and blood mingling as they ran down her cheeks.

"Never again," she hissed, voice raw with pain and defiance. "If there's a next life... I'd rather be anyone—anyone—than your daughter."

And as the cold blade sliced through her abdomen, her last breath left her in silence. The pendant—buried deep inside her—suddenly lit up, glowing with a fierce, radiant light, as if her final breath had sparked something eternal within it.

*****

The Kingdom of Bortenland, in the 76th year of its reign.

A warm breeze floated through the sprawling halls of the Duke of Mowbay's estate, carrying with it the scent of jasmine and the faint buzz of excitement.

Today, the usually composed household was alive with activity. All of Hasen City knew that the Duke's two daughters were to celebrate their coming-of-age ceremony—an event the capital had been whispering about for weeks.

Far from the commotion, deep inside the inner chambers, a girl, barely fifteen, whimpered in her sleep, "No... please, don't..."

Eliza twisted beneath the covers as if caught in the grip of a nightmare, her voice barely audible and laced with terror.

Suddenly, she shot upright with a gasp, terror etched across her face. "Ah—!"

Arms wrapped tightly around herself, she sat frozen, waiting for the pain that had haunted her dreams. But nothing came. No sharp stab in her stomach. No suffocating darkness. No chains. Just... silence.

It took her a long moment to breathe, to blink. Then, cautiously, she opened her eyes.

This wasn't that place. The cold, blood-slicked chamber was gone. Her father, her brother Benedict, her sister Sophie—nowhere to be seen.

Instead, the room around her was quiet and bathed in golden light. The furnishings, the curtains, the scent of camellias—it was all so familiar. And yet it felt oddly distant, like a memory she hadn't touched in years.

She blinked again, heart racing. "This is... my old room?" she murmured, her voice thin, almost childlike.

A bittersweet wave of remembrance hit her—days when she'd been the pampered heiress of the Stonor family, loved and sheltered.

"No," she whispered. "No, this can't be right."

Panic clawed its way into her throat. Eliza flung off the covers and staggered to her feet—but her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor.

"What the hell is going on?!" Her voice cracked. "Why am I back here?!"

She crawled toward the door, fingers scrambling over polished wood. 'I have to get out. I can't let them see me—not Father, not Benedict... God knows what would happen.'

Knock, knock—

A sharp rap on the door stopped her cold.

"Lady Eliza," came a brisk voice from the other side. A maid's tone—clipped and clearly unimpressed. "Are you planning to sleep through the whole day?

"It's your coming-of-age ceremony today—yours and Lady Sophie's. Don't say I didn't warn you if you're late."

Eliza's breath caught. Her hand, which had just reached for the door, recoiled like she'd touched fire.

The maid's words echoed in her ears.

She sat there on the cold floor, staring at nothing. "Coming-of-age?" she repeated, her voice hollow, her mind reeling.

Chapter 2 Get Your Butt Out

'A coming-of-age ceremony? Seriously?' The thought struck Eliza like a jolt. 'Didn't I already go through that nightmare ages ago?'

She could still feel the sting of that day—sharp and cold, like a blade etched deep into her soul.

The mocking laughter of the guests. Her brother's venom-laced jabs. Her fiancé's cold, merciless withdrawal. And worst of all, the crushing disappointment in her parents' eyes, their words like knives.

She'd lived it. Bled from it. And died with the memory still burning in her bones.

'So why the hell is it happening again?' Her brows knitted, her chest tightening with confusion. 'Is Sophie really trying to pull the same dirty trick? What—ruin me all over again, until I break for good?'

Eliza's breath hitched, her whole body trembling as the panic rose. But then—something stopped her cold.

She blinked. Her hands... they were fine. Not a single scar. Not even a scratch.

Her heart pounded as she looked down. Her feet were steady, untouched.

Her face paled. 'No. No way. This... this can't be real.'

Her tendons—every single one—had been cut. She remembered the pain, the screams, the hopelessness. There was no healing from that. None.

Something was very wrong. She turned slowly, scanning the room with growing dread. And then recognition began to dawn.

The furniture. The curtains. The scent in the air. Everything matched a place she thought she'd never see again.

Her eyes landed on the old dressing table in the corner. Slowly, hesitantly, she walked toward it. Her reflection emerged in the bronze mirror—clearer with every step.

And what she saw made her breath catch in her throat. A young face. Smooth. Untouched. Not a trace of the disfigurement Sophie had left her with.

Her clothes, her hair—everything screamed innocence. This was her, before the fall. Before the disgrace. Before the pain.

'No. It can't be. Did I... come back? Did I really wake up on the day of my coming-of-age ceremony?' The thought hit her like thunder.

Her breath came out shaky, almost a laugh. She covered her face with trembling hands, on the verge of hysteria.

"That's right... I died." Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "I died by Matthew's blade."

And yet, here she was. Alive. Breathing. Not a ghost—but reborn into the same nightmare she thought she'd escaped.

'Well, ain't that just perfect,' she thought with a bitter smile. 'Heaven's got a twisted sense of humor.'

She had sworn—sworn on her grave—that she'd never have anything to do with the Stonors again. She was done with them. And now, fate had dragged her right back into their web.

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste snapped her back into clarity. Her gaze turned icy.

Maybe this was fate's way of screwing with her. But maybe this was her second shot.

She'd faced death before. Now, she was done being afraid.

Eliza used to be the most favored lady of the Duke's estate—the apple of everyone's eye.

From the moment she could walk and talk, she had been the treasured little sister to her four older brothers, and the darling princess her father could never say no to.

For the first fifteen years of her life, she lived like a pearl in a golden box—loved, protected, and admired.

But all of that changed the year she turned fifteen. That was when her father returned with a strange little girl and made a shocking announcement: this was his long-lost daughter, Sophie Stonor—their younger sister.

From then on, her world began to crumble.

Her father's warmth toward her grew cold, replaced with an obsession for Sophie. Her brothers, once her knights in shining armor, slowly pulled away from her and lavished their affections on the newcomer instead.

Every smile, every hug, every kind word that used to belong to her now belonged to Sophie.

Back then, Eliza had no idea what she'd done wrong. She tried everything—swallowed her pride, groveled, tried harder to please them.

But no matter what she did, it was never enough. All it brought her was pain—endless, soul-crushing pain.

Whenever Sophie so much as teared up, Benedict would drag Eliza out and make her to apologize.

Dylan once snapped her arms and legs without blinking. Matthew tortured her like she was some criminal.

And Anthony, the youngest, destroyed her face and smeared her name until she couldn't even walk down the street without being spat on.

Even her father—her own blood—cast her out of the family without hesitation, erased her from the records, and left her with just five cruel words. "You're not fit to be a Stonor."

From beloved heiress to disgraced outcast, it took only three years to ruin her completely.

By the end, she had nothing left—no name, no home, no hope. She'd finally decided to leave Hasen City behind and start fresh somewhere far away, where no one knew who she was.

But fate wasn't done with her just yet. Right before she could leave, Sophie accused her of stealing a jade pendant. The Stonor family sent men after her, dragged her back in chains, and demanded she hand it over.

Even then, some part of her still hoped—maybe they still care, just a little... She gambled her last breath on that hope.

And lost.

Eliza drew in a shaky breath, shutting her eyes tight as she forced the memories away.

'Maybe none of it was ever mine,' she thought bitterly. 'Maybe I was just fooling myself all along. That's fine. I made the wrong choice in my last life—but this time, I won't repeat my mistakes.'

Just then, a soft clink echoed in the quiet room. Something had fallen to the ground.

She looked down and blinked in surprise—it was a familiar piece of emerald.

"Mother's pendant!" she gasped.

Eliza dropped to her knees and gently scooped it up, cradling it in her palm like it was the most precious thing in the world. Carefully, she brushed the dust off its surface—only to notice something odd.

It was broken.

She remembered it clearly. The pendant had been two interlocking emerald hearts—a symbol of unity, of love. But now, only half remained. She searched around frantically but couldn't find the other piece.

Her gaze returned to the pendant. The break was smooth, too clean to be from a fall.

"Wait a minute... this wasn't just cracked," she murmured. "What if... it's supposed to be like this?"

She gently ran her fingers along the edge of the break and vanished.

The world spun. A wave of dizziness overtook her, and when she opened her eyes again, she was no longer in her room.

She stood in a vast, silent realm blanketed in white mist. The air felt still. Timeless.

'What is this place...?' she thought, eyes wide.

She crouched down and touched the ground. Grass. Cool and real beneath her fingers.

A wild thought bloomed in her mind. 'Could I be... inside the pendant? And my time travel—is this all connected?'

Suppressing her questions for now, she scanned her surroundings. The space wasn't large. There was a field of soft grass, a crystal-clear stream trickling by, and a simple thatched hut standing quietly in the mist.

She approached the hut. It was empty and dustless. Like no one had ever lived there.

As she crossed the stream, something on the other side caught her eye, making her pause in her tracks. The area was brimming with all kinds of plants.

Stepping closer, her eyes widened in amazement. No, it wasn't just any flowers or regular plants.

There, before her, were rare and prized specimens: ginseng, golden root, St. John's Wort, elderflower, and even the elusive mandrake...

Every single one was a rare medicinal herb—priceless treasures in the hands of any healer. And those were just the ones she recognized. There were dozens more that she'd never even seen before.

What shocked her most wasn't the herbs themselves—but how they were thriving here.

Some of them needed freezing climates. Others, humid forests. Some grew only in cliffs or deserts.

Yet here, in this strange, misty world—they were all growing together in perfect harmony.

'Is it this place? This pocket farm?' she wondered, staring around in disbelief.

And then she noticed the stream. The rarer the herb, the closer it was to the water.

"It's the stream," she whispered. "The water's the key." Eliza stared at the gentle current as a realization slowly dawned on her.

Eliza stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the scene before her. She couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "Mother... what's the secret behind the pendant you left me?"

As the shock lingered, a thought suddenly crossed her mind. 'Sophie once forced me to hand over the pendant out of the blue. Could she have already discovered this pocket farm?'

But that didn't quite add up. After all, the pendant had always been with her, never out of her sight.

If it wasn't for this random twist of fate today, she might never have stumbled upon this hidden space.

And, from what she knew about Sophie's behavior, she was clearly clueless about it.

So, either someone else knew about the pendant's secret and spilled the beans to Sophie, or Sophie's real agenda wasn't the space at all—it was something else entirely.

For some reason, Eliza couldn't shake the feeling that the latter was more likely.

But no matter what, now that she had this secret in her hands, there was no way she was letting the pendant fall into anyone else's grasp. It had to be kept hidden—safely out of reach.

With the pendant's pocket farm now under her control, Eliza felt a surge of confidence in her plan to get back at Sophie and the Stonor family.

After figuring out how to move freely in and out of the pendant's space, Eliza quickly made her way back to her room.

She couldn't stay in the space for too long—after all, today was her coming-of-age ceremony, and she knew someone would be looking for her soon.

But what Eliza didn't know was that, as she left the pendant's pocket farm, a handsome young man in another mansion in Hasen City—this one belonging to the Regent—was suddenly jolted awake from his nap.

He grabbed the pendant from the table and stared at the broken half of the heart-shaped clasp, his brow furrowing in confusion.

*****

Bang—

"Eliza! Get your butt out here!"

"Don't think you can hide in your room and I won't do anything about it!"

With a shout, a tall, broad-shouldered young man barged into Eliza's room, his presence as fierce and intense as an angry lion.

Chapter 3 Who's In Control

Sitting in front of the vanity mirror, Eliza was on her own—no maid around, so she had to deal with her long hair herself. She turned, her eyes briefly meeting the angry face of Dylan, who had stormed into the room, his fury written all over him.

She fought to hold back the disgust building inside and coolly asked, "Dylan, what's going on?"

Dylan glared at her, his voice sharp with anger. "I'll ask you again—did you ruin Sophie's gown? How could you be so heartless? You knew today was her coming-of-age ceremony, yet you still ruined her gown!"

Just as Dylan was about to explode, the one person Eliza hated more than anything appeared behind him.

Sophie poked her head out, flashing a sheepish smile and trying to play the peacemaker. "Dylan, don't be mad. I've already explained, haven't I? Eliza didn't do it on purpose—she's just a bit clumsy."

Sophie, small and delicate, always looked like she needed someone to protect her. Her big, doe-like eyes full of innocence made it impossible for anyone not to feel a protective urge.

Sophie knew exactly how to use that act to her advantage, and she was keenly aware of how the whole Stonor family felt guilty toward her.

After all, she'd only been found six months ago after being kidnapped at the age of three, and had suffered terribly in the years she'd been lost.

The guilt the Stonor family felt made them bend over backward to make it up to her.

Eliza had once thought the same way—Sophie was supposed to be her sister, after all. But in her past life, that naive thinking had cost her dearly.

Now, seeing Sophie's face again, Eliza felt an uncontrollable surge of hatred.

"Sophie! Why are you so nice? It was clearly Eliza's fault, and yet you're still covering for her?" Dylan grumbled, frustration in his voice.

"No, no, you're not listening, Dylan!" Sophie responded, turning to Eliza with a soft, apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Eliza. I just don't know how to explain things very well. Please don't be mad at Dylan, okay? He's just worried about me."

"What are you apologizing for? She's the one who should be apologizing to you!" Dylan shot Eliza a furious look.

Eliza lowered her eyes, hiding the bitterness simmering beneath the surface, and replied, calm and collected, "Dylan, you're right. I made a mistake the other day. I should be the one apologizing to Sophie."

But the truth was, she was already two days too late. By now, Sophie had already ruined the gown herself and skillfully shifted the blame onto Eliza.

Sophie didn't need any evidence. All she had to do was be seen crying over the ruined gown, and everyone would immediately point their fingers at Eliza.

After all, Sophie had already ruined Eliza's reputation with all kinds of underhanded tricks.

To everyone else, Eliza was a jealous, heartless sister—narrow-minded, vindictive, and willing to go to any lengths to get what she wanted.

So, whenever Sophie was "wronged," everyone just assumed it was Eliza behind it.

Suppressing her rising anger, Eliza gave Sophie a faint smile, her apology sincere. "I've been thinking about this for the past couple of days, lying awake at night, and I regret what happened. Please forgive me, Sophie."

Sophie blinked in surprise, as if she wasn't sure if this was the same Eliza she knew. 'Is she really being this genuine?' she thought.

"Hmph, now you realize you messed up?" Dylan scoffed. "If you weren't my sister, I'd have already sent you to the authorities and let you see what it's like behind bars!"

Eliza smiled coldly inside. 'Sister? Ugh, I don't ever want to be related to someone like you again.'

She remembered all too well the day she'd refused to apologize to Sophie. Dylan had beaten her mercilessly, leaving bruises all over her body—only sparing her face.

And even though it was supposed to be her coming-of-age ceremony, Dylan hadn't shown her any mercy.

Among her four brothers, the twin brothers, Dylan and Matthew , were the hardest to deal with. Especially Dylan—his temper was explosive.

When he was in one of his protective moods, he would take on anyone who dared to bully Sophie. But if he was angry, he wouldn't hesitate to take it out on her.

This was especially true when she had a falling out with Sophie; the moment Sophie started crying, Eliza knew she was in for it.

Eliza pressed her lips together lightly, fully aware that she was no match for Dylan in terms of both height and strength. Trying to fight him would only end badly for her.

So, she chose to bite her tongue. 'It's fine,' she thought. 'I've got all the time in the world to get my revenge.'

But her quick and decisive apology seemed to leave some people unsatisfied.

"Dylan, since Eliza has already apologized, let's just let it go. It's not that big of a deal, but it's a shame about my gown. I might not be able to attend today's coming-of-age ceremony," Sophie said, her voice soft and hesitant.

Dylan, who had initially planned to drop the matter, felt a surge of protectiveness for Sophie after hearing this.

"No way, this can't just be brushed off! She ruined your gown, and who knows what else she might do next? She needs to be taught a lesson so she'll learn her lesson!" Dylan said firmly.

He turned and glared at Eliza. "Since you ruined Sophie's gown, take your own coming-of-age gown and give it to her. As for the ceremony, without a gown, you can forget about going."

Sophie's eyes gleamed with a sly glint, but Eliza noticed it immediately. She wasn't surprised.

After all, Sophie had deliberately ruined her gown and framed her for it, just so she could get her hands on Eliza's gown.

The gown for the coming-of-age ceremony had been custom-made for her by her four brothers a year in advance.

The crown was a delicate emerald-encrusted gold band, and the gown was embroidered with butterflies on exquisite silk.

It was the finest of its kind in Hasen City. When they had designed it, her brothers had told her they wanted her to be the most admired girl at the ceremony.

But now, that title of "most beloved little sister" had been handed to someone else.

Seeing Eliza stand there in silence, Dylan misunderstood her quietness as reluctance to comply, and his irritation grew. "What's this? You don't want to? Or are you just pretending to be sorry, wasting my time?

"If that's the case, don't blame me for being tough. You will give it to her, whether you like it or not—"

"Fine," Eliza interrupted him sharply, not bothering to meet his eyes.

Without a second glance at him, she turned and went to her room to retrieve the gown she had already prepared.

'It never truly belonged to me anyway—why should I care?' she thought.

She handed the gown over with a slight smile. "Sophie, here. This gown is yours now, go ahead and take it."

Sophie was caught off guard by Eliza's calm acceptance.

She had expected Eliza to make a scene and really set Dylan off. With Dylan's short temper, he would have forced her to hand over the gown in the end.

'Why is Eliza so calm about this?' Sophie thought, a sense of unease creeping in. Since this whole thing started, Eliza's reactions had been unusually composed.

'Did she know I wanted her gown all along? Did she... mess with it somehow?' Sophie pondered, a flash of disdain crossing her mind.

Thinking she had figured Eliza out, she sneered inwardly. 'Fool, let me show you who's in control.'

Sophie pretended to reach for the gown, but as soon as her fingers brushed the fabric, she suddenly cried out in pain. "Ah, Dylan, it hurts!"

The gown fell to the floor, and Sophie spun around, throwing herself into Dylan's arms with a look of feigned terror.

Dylan instinctively shielded her, shoving Eliza aside, and this time, his anger was unmistakable. "Eliza Stonor! What did you do to Sophie?!"

Chapter 4 Brought This On Yourself

Eliza Stonor stumbled and collided with the sharp corner of the vanity.

She clenched her lips, already understanding the situation—just like in her past life, the same tricks Sophie had pulled on her were happening again.

Seeing Sophie's smug expression, Eliza instantly realized she was about to fall into another one of her schemes.

Bending down to gather the scattered gown, Eliza said, with a calm facade, "Honestly, I don't understand. What did I do to upset you so much, Sophie? Why don't you enlighten me?"

Before Sophie could open her mouth, Dylan Stonor cut in, his voice sharp, "You know exactly what you've done!"

Eliza's eyes grew colder. She couldn't help but think—she hadn't realized it before, but now it was clear. Dylan was blind to the truth.

Right under his nose, he couldn't even see who the real culprit was and who was innocent.

Maybe, even if he could see, he'd still choose to believe whatever Sophie told him.

Dylan shot Eliza a furious look, then turned to pat Sophie on the shoulder, comforting her in a voice that was almost too sweet, "Don't worry, Sphie, if something's wrong, just tell me. I'll make sure everything's set right."

The closeness between them was almost suffocating, and Dylan didn't even try to hide it.

Sophie blinked her doe-like eyes, her voice trembling with faux distress, "Dylan, I... it hurts so much."

Sophie knew exactly how to push Dylan's buttons. She didn't need to say much—just a few words, and Dylan was already seeing red.

Sure enough, the second Dylan saw Sophie's pitiful expression, his temper flared, and he lost all reason.

He remembered that Sophie had cried out in pain only after touching the gown, and that led him to the "truth" in his mind.

A loud slap landed squarely on Eliza's cheek.

"Well, Eliza, I thought you promised to make things right for Sophie, but it turns out you're just as nasty as I thought, messing with the gown like that!" Dylan yelled, his face flushed with rage.

Eliza's left cheek burned with the sting, but she gritted her teeth, fury boiling inside her. 'I need to get out of this family.'

Here, no matter what she did, everyone would take Sophie's side. Leaving the Stonor family was the only way to get her revenge.

But first, she had to get through today's coming-of-age ceremony, because that marriage contract still hung over her.

'As for Dylan's threat to stop me from attending... Even if he's the second son of the Duke, he's not at the point where he can control everything,' she thought bitterly.

The whole city of Hasen knew that today, the Duke's two daughters were holding their coming-of-age ceremony. If she skipped it, the rumors would fly.

And her father, Gabriel, would never let that happen.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Eliza placed the gown on the table and said, "If you think there's something wrong with the gown, Dylan, feel free to check it."

She was done wasting time on this stubborn, blind fool.

With that, Eliza turned and walked into her room, pulling out a simple sky-blue dress from the wardrobe to change into.

Meanwhile, outside, Dylan was still muttering angrily to himself. "Fine, I will. But if I find out you've messed with that gown, you're going to regret it!"

A moment later, Eliza walked out of her room, now dressed in a fresh outfit.

The gown, which had once been neatly folded, was now a complete mess—thanks to Dylan's rummaging.

Sophie, standing nearby, peered in. Though she hadn't been the one to go through it, she was sure Eliza had tampered with the gown. Her eyes stayed fixed on the pile of clothes.

But even after Dylan turned the gown inside out, he couldn't find any signs of tampering.

Sophie frowned. 'Could I have been wrong?'

Just then, footsteps echoed down the hallway. Both of them glanced up at the same time.

Eliza emerged, dressed simply but elegantly. It was rare for her to wear such plain clothes, but with her stunning beauty, she radiated an otherworldly charm—like she'd been reborn.

Sophie's eyes narrowed with jealousy. She hated Eliza's face—just seeing it made her want to scratch it off.

Eliza, sensing the hostility, raised her gaze and locked eyes with Sophie. Their stares met head-on.

Sophie hadn't expected Eliza to be so perceptive. Her twisted expression froze for a moment before she quickly tried to hide it.

Eliza couldn't help but smirk inwardly. She glanced at the disheveled gown on the table. "So, did you find anything?"

Dylan, feeling embarrassed, shook his head. He'd found nothing.

Before he could say anything, Sophie quickly cut in, "Eliza, don't be mad. My hand just cramped up earlier, and when I mentioned it, Dylan got all worried and misunderstood. It wasn't his fault."

She gave an apologetic smile, sticking out her tongue in a playful gesture. "Sorry, Eliza. Don't blame Dylan—blame me."

"How could she blame you? If anyone's to blame, it's her," Dylan said, frowning deeply as he glared at Eliza. "If she weren't always causing trouble, I wouldn't be so suspicious. She's the one who brought this on herself."

Eliza felt disgusted once again. She picked up the gown with a cold expression and asked Sophie, "Do you still want this gown? If you do, take it."

Sophie wanted it badly, but the moment had passed, and she wasn't about to push it.

So, she feigned generosity. "You know what? Forget it. I know it's your favorite, and you're probably attached to it. Since I got Dylan all worked up, let's call it even. You don't need to apologize to me, Eliza. We're still sisters, right?"

Sophie figured there was no need to rush. What she wanted would eventually be hers.

The coming-of-age gown wasn't meant to be worn immediately, but only during the official ceremony, when the crown and gown were put on. Sophie wasn't in a hurry.

Dylan's expression softened a little. He lifted his chin, speaking in that usual pompous way of his. "Did you hear that? Since Sophie says it's even, you can keep it.

"But don't think this is over. If you mess with little Sophie again, I swear I'll—"

Before he could finish, Dylan's eyes widened in shock as he stared at Eliza, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Eliza, scissors in hand, wasted no time, slicing the beautiful gown into pieces without hesitation.

Chapter 5 Pack Your Stuff

"Eliza Stonor, what in the world are you doing? Are you completely out of your mind?!" Sophie's voice rang out, filled with fury.

She had hoped there might still be a way to fix things, was now both furious and stunned. Her voice trembled with emotion, as if Eliza had just torn apart her own clothes.

Eliza kept the scissors in her hand, waving them around with a carefree smile. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cutting the gown. Didn't Dylan and you see it with their own eyes? Why all the drama?"

Dylan's eyes nearly shot fire. "You're seriously asking me that? That gown was custom-made for your coming-of-age ceremony, by me and Benedict! And you're just chopping it up like it's nothing?!"

"Because no one wants it anymore," Eliza said coldly, snipping again. "I don't want it, Sophie doesn't want it, so if no one wants it, it's gotta go."

Her icy demeanor made Dylan feel like he was looking at a complete stranger.

'Who says I don't want it?!' Sophie nearly screamed, rage bubbling over.

She'd only turned the gown down to keep Dylan from suspecting anything, but she never expected Eliza to go this far.

She'd planned to wear the gown for her coming-of-age ceremony, but now, it was ruined—all because of Eliza.

This was the most expensive, most exquisite gown in all of Hasen City—there wasn't a second one like it.

Sophie felt a sharp pang of regret, as though her heart had been ripped out.

"When did you ever say you didn't want it?" Dylan demanded, his anger growing. "Didn't you say you loved it? Didn't you treasure this gown?"

Eliza didn't even flinch. "I don't like it."

She said it slowly, emphasizing each word. "Maybe I liked it once, but not anymore. I don't want anything that's not mine."

With one final snip, the gown was ruined—completely shredded. Just like her relationship with Dylan and the others—broken beyond repair.

She had tried to salvage it, but if she'd cut ties earlier, maybe it wouldn't have come to this point.

This time, she wasn't going to make the same mistakes she did in her past life.

"Well, the coming-of-age ceremony's about to start. Since Dylan doesn't want me there, I'll just take my leave," she said, dropping the scissors and turning away.

Her tone was full of impatience as she ushered them out of her way.

Dylan stood there, rooted to the spot, staring at the shredded pieces of fabric.

His mind felt like it had been hit by a sledgehammer, leaving him dazed and confused. 'No... this can't be happening. Why is Eliza acting like this?

'Why is she doing this? Is it because I made her give the gown to Sophie?

'But didn't I misunderstand her? Isn't all of this her fault in the first place? Why is she being so reckless?!'

Dylan's anger grew with every word, his voice sharp as he snapped, "This is all Benedict's fault! He spoiled you rotten, and now look at you, trampling all over your brothers' feelings.

"What's next, huh? Are you planning to turn everything upside down?"

He thought his words would hit home with Eliza, but she didn't even react.

Sitting there, her back to him, she didn't spare him a single glance, her posture radiating cold indifference.

"Fine!" Dylan gritted his teeth, practically seething. "So now you think you can throw a tantrum with me, huh?

"Just wait. I'll go get Benedict and the others, and they'll see just how out of line you're acting!"

With that, he snatched the crown Sophie Stonor had just picked up from the floor, along with the torn fabric and scattered debris, and shoved them all together.

"Hey, Dylan!" Sophie barely had time to react before Dylan turned on his heel and stormed out, the ragged crown and gown in tow.

Sophie shot Eliza a final, frustrated look, hesitated for a moment, and then decided to follow him.

The room fell silent as they left, so quiet that you could almost hear the hushed whispers of the maids just outside the door.

"Was that Lord Dylan and Lady Sophie running out of Lady Eliza's room?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Can't believe I saw Lord Dylan. If I'd known, I would've waited in Lady Eliza's room."

"Forget it. I heard Lord Dylan yelling at Lady Eliza again. She must've done something to Lady Sophie. That girl's got some wicked tricks.

"You really want to get close to her after hearing that? What if one day she turns on you?"

"God, that's terrifying! If that's the case, who'd want to serve her?"

Inside, Eliza listened without a flicker of emotion, her expression unreadable. One voice in particular stood out—it was Lillian Reed, her maid, speaking louder than the others.

Lillian, the same maid who had once kicked Eliza hard in the secret chamber to please Sophie, and who had helped Sophie betray her, was now Sophie's trusted ally.

She'd even been secretly stirring up trouble among the servants, turning them against Eliza.

A cold spark flashed in Eliza's eyes. She'd never forget what Sophie and the Stonor family had done to her, and she wasn't about to let those who'd betrayed her walk away scot-free.

"You." Eliza's voice broke the silence, sharp and commanding.

The maids turned to see her standing by the window, her gaze icy and calculating. Still shaken by Lillian's earlier words, they scrambled to their feet in a panic.

Eliza's tone was casual, almost like she was giving a simple command. "Everyone except Lillian can pack up and leave. No need to stick around. I'll have someone come pick you up soon."

The other maids froze, confused. "Pack our things? Where are we going? Who's coming to get us?"

Eliza flashed them a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, don't worry. Your household servants will come to get you. Who else could it be?"

The maids turned pale as the realization hit them.

"What do you mean, my lady? What did we do wrong? Why are you treating us like this?!" Lillian, still clueless about the gravity of the situation, stepped forward to defend the others, her voice full of righteous indignation.

"They haven't done anything wrong," Eliza said with a calm smile. "They're just... not the sharpest. Can't even tell who their real mistress is.

"People who don't even know who their master is don't belong in my house. Better pack up and leave while you can, before I lose my patience."

Her words landed like a punch, and the maids, including Lillian, turned pale with fear.

Then, as if remembering something, Eliza added with a wicked grin, "Of course, you could always try asking my sweet, innocent sister to intercede for you. Maybe she'll pay a good price to buy you off me?"

Eliza figured that if she was going to leave the Stonor family, she'd at least make sure to walk away with a little extra cash in her pocket.

As she closed the window and turned around, she jumped in shock when she saw a man standing silently at the door, his presence nearly ghostly.

When she recognized him, a wave of pure hatred surged through her. She slowly spoke, her voice as cold as ice. "Hey, Benedict."