Chapter 02
“Shh, Aria. You must never speak.”
Aria’s mother, Sophia, had been making her drink a potion since the day she was born.
After drinking it, she truly became unable to speak at all.
She couldn’t even cough.
“Of all things… a useless one was born!”
Aria felt wronged.
Why do I have to be beaten and cursed by my father?
‘I can speak. I even have a name.’
She could only resent her mother.
A mother who only visited to give her the potion.
A mother who turned terrifying if she didn’t take it.
A mother who had never once held her.
Who had never read her a single fairy tale or sung her a lullaby.
‘Does Mother love me… or hate me?’
Aria knew nothing.
She could only watch Sophia grow more emaciated day by day.
And she learned the truth only in the spring of the year she turned ten.
Sophia had died.
With her vocal cords completely torn apart.
“They say she killed herself. They say she did it in a particularly brutal way.”
Only after accidentally overhearing the maids did Aria learn everything.
That Sophia had been protecting her all this time—from Count Cortez.
‘I was a siren…’
A Siren.
A being named after an ancient monster, a power flowing through Sophia’s bloodline.
A power that could enchant, heal, control, and stir emotions through song.
Twelve years ago, Count Cortez had kidnapped a siren, known only in legend, and presented her to the world.
That siren was Aria’s mother.
‘So I was born like that?’
Her whole body trembled.
Before the shock even faded, Count Cortez unleashed violence on Aria that was incomparable to anything before.
“You damn brat, you dare run from me?! You worthless thing, leaving only a useless girl behind!”
It hurt. So much.
That day, Aria cried as if she would die, using pain as an excuse.
‘I have to run away.’
It wasn’t as if she had never thought of it.
But she was only ten.
Without her mother’s protection, it was only a matter of time before she was discovered.
And eventually, it happened.
“Aaagh!”
She couldn’t hold back her pain and screamed.
“Ha! I knew it! A siren’s daughter couldn’t possibly be mute. How dare you deceive me all this time…”
“P-please stop!”
“What a perfect voice. Clear and pure like a feather… the voice of an angel…”
Aria, following in her mother’s footsteps, became a siren.
Powerful figures offered her their entire fortunes and begged her to sing, even kissing her feet.
Secret aristocratic gatherings of the imperial family turned into events solely to hear the siren’s song.
Horrible things were done to her.
She saw things she should not have seen.
She heard things she should not have heard.
‘I never wanted to know any of this.’
Every day she prayed to God.
‘Please save me.’
But God did not respond.
Because of her overwhelming talent, the siren’s song only became more famous.
People began to worship her as if she were divine, begging her to save them.
Then, rumors spread across the entire empire.
That the siren was not a divine messenger of salvation, but a monster from legend.
“The siren has deceived you all.”
Saint Veronica spoke before the gathered believers in the square, her eyes glistening with tears.
“Many of the imperial officials have gone mad from addiction to the siren’s song. Even His Majesty the Emperor…”
Tears welled at the corner of the saint’s eyes, and the crowd began to stir.
That nobles had gone mad.
That the emperor had become a tyrant.
That the empire was decaying and corrupt.
‘It’s all because of the siren.’
The siren was a fake.
Not a sacred being, but a vile monster.
The only true one was Saint Veronica of the Holy Nation.
They raged.
“Burn the imperial family!”
“We must cleanse the imperial palace, which has become a den of heretics!”
“Saint, please take the throne!”
“This is not rebellion—it is a holy war!”
The saint trembled her delicate shoulders.
War inevitably required sacrifice.
With a pained expression, she soon lifted her head as if resolved.
Behind her flowing golden hair, the radiant light of the sun poured down.
“I will save them.”
“Waaah!”
“I will cleanse the imperial palace and bring down divine grace so that no more innocent lives are lost.”
Saint Veronica.
She was the perfectly crafted heroine of a heroic tale.
And Aria was the wicked woman who ruined the empire.
‘Did I really drive them mad?’
Even Aria herself became uncertain.
Nobles, royalty, and commoners alike all said it was her fault, so it almost felt true.
War began.
Men and women of all ages were conscripted.
Those who refused were forcibly dragged away.
Screams of agony never ceased. Countless bodies fell.
The holy knights called it a “purification process.”
“Execute the monster!”
The enraged crowd rose up.
As public sentiment boiled over, the emperor hid Aria deep within the imperial palace where no one could find her.
“Execution? Not happening. You’ll remain a bird that sings for me for the rest of your life.”
Then he broke her legs, caged her like an animal, and sealed her mouth.
How long had she been imprisoned like that?
At some point, Aria coughed up blood.
“….”
So this is how I die.
She looked down at her blood-soaked palm and clenched her fist.
‘Fine. Let’s just die.’
If the last siren died, no one else would have to suffer like her.
She had given up on everything.
But even at the brink of death, a pitch-black emotion began to rise from the ruins of her heart.
“…Should I kill them all?”
Aria flinched and turned her head.
Lloyd Cardenas Valentine.
The so-called demon duke who, at eighteen, had slaughtered all his own relatives and retainers.
He spoke to her, who was dying in the emperor’s cage with broken legs.
“You look like someone who wants me.”
“Me…?”
“The devil.”
Duke Valentine.
A tyrant as cruel as the emperor, a murderer, a man rumored to worship demons.
It was said he had sold the souls of his own bloodline to make a deal with a devil.
“If you need me, call.”
“….”
“Your song reaches anywhere.”
It felt like being offered a contract by a demon in exchange for one’s soul.
‘Kill them all, he said…’
I’m going to die anyway—what use is revenge?
A broken-winged bird cannot fly even if the cage is opened.
But in the face of death, Aria eventually…
“Come forth, sweet death.”
She summoned the devil.
The duke stormed into the imperial palace, holding only a worn sword hilt, cutting down everyone who stood in his way.
All of them.
Except Aria.
Flames rose. Unidentified screams filled the palace.
A night soaked in terror.
Only Aria, held in the duke’s arms, saw the light behind his back.
“Pity. If I had come a little earlier, I might have heard your song once more.”
“….”
“I wanted to hear how a siren sings after leaving her cage.”
She replied slowly.
“Did my song corrupt you too?”
“No. I was the one who corrupted you.”
With a lazy motion, he picked up nearby premium herb leaves scattered on the floor.
He stuffed them into a pipe and placed it in his mouth.
“Let’s fall into hell together.”
The duke smirked, exhaling pale smoke.
“Unfortunate. If you hadn’t summoned me, you might have gone to heaven.”
Hell.
It truly was a hellish sight.
The scattered bodies of nobles and royals, pools of red staining the floor, all traces of life erased from the palace.
‘And the emperor is dead.’
God had said to forgive one’s enemies.
To sacrifice oneself for others.
To deny oneself.
God had said…
And yet, at the edge of death, the revenge the devil had shown her was far too sweet.
If the price was hell,
she was willing to fall.
“I want… to sing.”
For the first time, Aria wanted to sing of her own will.
“Then sing.”
Though her voice barely came out, more like moving her lips silently.
The duke leaned in, willing to listen.
‘The devil who dragged me into hell.’
My savior.
The pain that had crushed her heart slowly faded away.
As if sinking into a deep, peaceful sleep—her senses drifting away from her body.
At the moment she drew her last breath, a faint smile appeared on her lips and then vanished.
Aria died. Completely.
But in that final moment,
‘The scent of flowers…’
She smelled spring.
‘This place… is not hell.’
Her eyes snapped open.
The ceiling of the attic she had been locked in until the age of ten filled her vision.
She took a deep breath.
Air filled her lungs deeply, yet strangely,
‘It doesn’t hurt anymore.’
She quickly touched her face.
No burn scars.
She stood up from the worn bed. Her legs did not limp.
‘The cage is gone.’
She wasn’t imprisoned. She was free.
Her hands, her legs, even her mouth could move freely.
‘This isn’t a dream.’
A fierce vitality burned deep within her body.
This sensation could not be a dream.
Aria ran to the tiny window and looked outside.
Petals fluttered, announcing the end of winter.
‘Spring.’
Sky, trees, wind, flowers, and sunlight.
A breathtaking world she thought she would never see again.
Aria reached out the window, grabbed a handful of drifting petals, and clasped her hands together as if in prayer.
“Aah…”
She had returned. From the edge of death.
She had been given a chance to start over.
“…I can speak.”
She hadn’t taken the potion.
Which meant her mother had already died.
And being in the attic meant she had not yet been discovered by her father.
‘Father.’
Count Cortez.
‘The man who ruined my life.’
Now, I can take revenge.
That was her first thought.
More than shock or confusion, what filled her mind first was one thing:
Revenge.
‘He’s probably drinking.’
There was only one place he would be drinking this early in the morning.
Aria went to find him.
“Eek!”
“W-what the—”
“What is she doing here…?”
The maids stared in shock as she opened the attic door and descended calmly.
Aria passed them without a glance.
Soon she found him in the wine cellar.
“You little—”
The count was too drunk to understand the situation.
His face twisted in confusion, then rage. His hand fumbled, searching for a whip.
But the moment Aria began to sing, his expression was filled with shock.
