But she was supposed to be happy.
Clover stared hard at the book resting on the desk, her brows drawn together.
Now she understood.
The reason everyone treated her like trash in this world… was because she had no power of her own.
And at this point, she desperately wanted power.
The thought alone made her eyes narrow.
She couldn't wait to turn Dylan into a cockroach.
With renewed determination, she grabbed the book and sat down.
Studying it wasn't easy.
The symbols were strange, the words even stranger, and some of the pronunciations felt like they were twisting her tongue into knots. But Dylan had been right about one thing—
If she wanted to survive in this world, she needed to become stronger.
So she kept reading.
And reading.
And reading.
Finally, after what felt like forever, she found a spell simple enough to try.
She slowly rose to her feet and walked into the garden.
Her gaze landed on a withered flower near the edge of the path.
Perfect.
Clover crouched in front of it, lifted one hand dramatically, and recited the spell from memory.
"恢復你美麗的身姿."
Nothing happened.
She blinked.
Then frowned.
"恢復你美麗的身姿."
Still nothing.
The flower remained just as dead and pitiful as before.
Clover stared at it in disbelief before slowly standing up.
"…Seriously?"
Annoyed, she went back inside.
Just as she stepped into the room, lunch arrived.
It was already half past two.
She hadn't even realized how much time had passed.
At that point, she was starving.
With zero hesitation, she tossed the book aside and attacked the food.
After eating, she picked the book back up and continued reading while pacing around the room.
She became so absorbed in it that she didn't even notice when night fell.
The deeper she read, the more disturbing the book became.
Dark magic was terrifying.
No wonder the Black Witches were said to be stronger than the White Witches.
Clover flopped onto the bed, lying flat on her back with both arms spread out as she stared at the ceiling.
She was exhausted.
But even then…
One thought still lingered.
Why does my heart keep beating for that idiot?
Why can't I get him out of my mind?
That was the last thing she thought before sleep finally claimed her.
Morning came too quickly.
Clover woke feeling oddly refreshed, as though the bed itself had forced her into the deepest sleep of her life.
She headed straight to the bath, washed up, and changed into a simple sky-blue gown.
Plain.
But beautiful.
By the time she went downstairs for breakfast, she expected the dining hall to be crowded.
Instead…
It was empty.
Clover paused in the doorway, surprised.
Ever since arriving in the City of Ashen, this was her first time actually eating at the main dining table.
She had heard that the other princes—and even the queen—also lived in the mansion.
So where was everyone?
This place is really weird.
She ate quietly, glancing around every now and then, but no one came.
When she was done, she returned to her room with a sigh.
Then her eyes fell on the book again.
Her lips pressed into a determined line.
She picked it up and marched back to the garden.
The same withered flower still stood there, looking just as miserable as before.
Clover crouched in front of it again.
"Please… just work this time."
She took a deep breath.
"恢復你美麗的身姿."
Nothing.
Her expression stiffened.
She tried again, louder this time.
"恢復你美麗的身姿!"
Still nothing.
The flower didn't even twitch.
Clover's face darkened.
Then, in a burst of frustration, she stomped on the poor flower.
A voice suddenly interrupted her.
"Miss."
Clover turned sharply.
A guard stood a few steps away.
"You have a visitor."
"A visitor?" she repeated, confused.
"Yes."
Clover hesitated, then nodded and followed him.
The moment she stepped into the receiving area, her eyes widened.
"Lord Miguel?"
She walked toward him.
"What are you doing here?"
Miguel smiled the moment he saw her.
"I found out the old man isn't around," he said lightly. "So I thought I should come keep you company."
He gave her a bright, boyish smile.
Unlike Dylan—with his permanently cold face and unbearable arrogance—Lord Miguel was… cute.
Way too cute to be called a lord.
"So?" Miguel tilted his head. "What do you say?"
Clover hesitated.
Actually—
"You don't have to be afraid," Miguel added with a soft chuckle. "He isn't around anyway."
That was true.
Dylan wasn't here.
But his warning still rang clearly in her head.
All your actions have reward or punishment, Clover.
She bit her lip.
He won't find out if I don't tell him.
Elias doesn't seem to be around either.
And if Dylan really won't be back until tomorrow, then I still have enough time to learn at least one spell before he returns.
That settled it.
"Okay," she said at last.
Miguel's smile widened.
"I'll go change first," Clover said before hurrying back to her room.
She wore a pink gown that matches her skin beautifully.
Left alone in the grand hall, a dangerous grin slowly spread across Miguel face.
Just wait, Dylan.
The day I destroy you is coming.
The village was lively as always.
People moved from stall to stall, voices rose from every direction, and laughter blended with the noise of daily trade.
It was loud.
Chaotic.
Alive.
Clover looked around in wonder as she walked beside Miguel.
"So," Miguel said casually, "how is your relationship with him going?"
Clover snorted.
"Nothing much. He's impossible."
She folded her arms.
"I seriously can't wait to turn him into a cockroach."
Miguel nearly choked.
"Cockroach?" he repeated, clearly amused.
"Yes," Clover said with complete seriousness.
For a moment, Miguel could only stare at her.
The almighty Dylan… turned into a cockroach?
The image was so ridiculous he almost laughed out loud.
"Do you want anything?" he asked instead, hiding his amusement.
"Yes."
Without hesitation, Clover dragged him toward a nearby stall and pointed at the frozen treats.
"Ice cream."
Miguel chuckled and paid for two.
Clover handed him one and took the other for herself.
As they walked, she licked the top of it and glanced at him.
"You're actually nice."
Miguel looked at her.
"You're not like the icy Dylan."
He laughed softly.
"Yeah… I guess I get that compliment a lot."
But then his expression dimmed, just a little.
"But I wonder why Dylan doesn't like me."
Clover turned to him.
For a second, he looked genuinely sad.
Her heart softened.
"Don't worry," she said seriously. "Once I turn him into a cockroach, he won't be so prideful anymore."
Miguel stared at her.
Then he smiled—sweet and almost too pleased.
"That's very kind of you, Clover."
They continued walking until Miguel suddenly stopped in front of a jewelry stall.
"Can you help me pick out a necklace?" he asked.
Clover's eyes lit up.
"I love necklaces."
Miguel smiled.
"I figured."
The woman at the stall welcomed them warmly as they approached.
"Can I see that one?" Clover asked, pointing at a golden piece.
The woman handed it over.
Miguel leaned closer.
"This one looks nice."
"Yeah," Clover agreed. "It does."
She turned it in her hand, admiring the shine.
"Pick one for yourself too," Miguel said.
Clover blinked.
"For me?"
He nodded.
"You're so generous," she admitted.
Miguel gave a small shrug.
"Seems like Dylan hasn't gotten you anything yet."
Clover frowned immediately.
"He's a stingy king."
Miguel burst into laughter.
"You're funny."
Clover rolled her eyes, then stepped closer with the necklace in hand.
"Come here. I'll help you put it on."
Miguel obediently stepped forward.
Clover lifted the necklace and moved behind him, carefully bringing it around his neck.
Her fingers brushed his skin as she reached for the clasp.
Then—
"Clover."
The voice struck like thunder.
Her entire body froze.
That voice.
No.
It can't be.
Slowly, she turned.
Miguel turned too.
And there he was.
Dylan stood a few feet away, his tall frame rigid, his face dark, his presence suffocating.
His crimson eyes locked onto them like a beast that had just found its prey.
Cold.
Terrifying.
Dylan stood there…
like a predator.