Lauren was chained to a thick stone pillar, blood dripping down her pale ankles, pooling in a dark puddle at her feet.

  A basin of icy water crashed over her head, wrenching her back to consciousness.

  Blinking against the sting, her blurred vision sharpened until the figure before her came into focus.

  It was her half-sister—Indiana. The daughter of her father’s mistress.

  In those delicate hands, Indiana toyed with a flute as pale and smooth as jade. Her brows lifted ever so slightly, her lips curved in a smile that was equal parts mockery and triumph.

  “I never thought an idiot like you would have flawless spiritual roots—no, not just spiritual roots. Immortal roots, isn’t that right? Hah! Hahaha!” She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with madness. “So that’s why. You don’t have three ordinary roots—you were born with a mutated ice spiritual root. How amusing.”

  Lauren froze. She… had immortal roots? The three spiritual roots she thought she possessed had actually mutated into something far rarer—an immortal ice root.

  Indiana clicked her tongue. “What a waste. The Evercrest family may flaunt their status in Mistvale, but not a soul among them knows what an immortal root truly is. Poor sister. All this time, you weren’t a fool—you just couldn’t retain your spiritual energy because of that immortal bone inside you.”

  Lauren’s gaze locked onto the object in Indiana’s hand—the bone Indiana had carved straight out of her body. Now polished into the shape of a piccolo, it gleamed faintly, so smooth and flawless it looked like jade. No one would ever guess it had once been part of her.

  Indiana caressed it with unsettling tenderness. “Don’t worry, sister. I’ll take good care of it. I’ll refine it into my own immortal artifact, and I’ll carry it with me forever. That way, we’ll always be together.”

  Lauren spat blood, her chest heaving with fury and despair.

  This bitch. This lunatic. So all that softness, that meekness, that obedience… had been nothing but an act.

  “Why?” she forced the words past gritted teeth. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Why?” Indiana tilted her head, then suddenly broke into shrill, manic laughter. “Hahahaha! You mean because you were ‘good’ to me?”

  Lauren’s whole body ached, but she bit down on the pain, her voice shaking with anger.

  “Have I ever been cruel to you? Indiana, I always treated you like my own sister. When my mother lashed out at you, I defended you. Every time you made a mistake, I took the blame, so you wouldn’t be punished. I’ve never once looked down on you. So why—why, after everything—”

  But even as she cried out, she already knew the truth.

  This was fate. The fate of the villainess.

  On the day she had opened her eyes in this world, she realized she’d been thrown into a story—one where Indiana was destined to be the heroine, and she herself, Lauren, was doomed to play the cruel, envious sister.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The original Lauren had tormented Indiana relentlessly, egged on by her scheming mother, treating the girl like a dog. And in the end, when Indiana rose to power, she annihilated the Evercrest family in a single sweep.

  Readers of that story had cursed the Evercrests for their blindness. They had such a rare treasure of a daughter, and instead of cherishing her, they spat on her. If only they’d shown her the most basic respect—even as little as one would give a servant—the family could have avoided ruin.

  Lauren had thought the same. Which was why, when she woke up in the role of the villainess, she had done everything differently. She’d showered Indiana with kindness, clung to her with all the sincerity she had.

  After all, in the original tale, even a starving street dog once saved Indiana had risen into a spirit hound, loyal to her forever.

  If a dog could be rewarded, why not a sister?

  But reality was cruel.

  No matter what she did, no matter how deeply she bent herself into kindness—she was still bound to die a tragic death.

  Looking back on her life, Lauren still couldn’t understand how she had ever wronged her.

  A strange flicker crossed Indiana’s eyes as she slowly raised a knife.

  “Heh.” Her lips twisted in mockery. “You think being ‘nice’ to me means I should live under your shadow forever?”

  Lauren’s stomach dropped.

  “I’m Indiana,” she hissed, voice shaking, “not anyone’s sister. But you—you parade around, announcing to everyone that I’m your sister, Lauren. What is it? Afraid people won’t remember I’m the daughter of a mistress?”

  Lauren’s eyes widened.

  “With the influence of the Evercrest family, everyone already knows you’re the daughter of a mistress,” she said, her voice trembling but firm. “Do you really think I need to remind them? I said it because I wanted them to understand that even though you’re illegitimate, you are still part of the Evercrest family. That I won’t allow anyone to insult you behind your back. That I, Lauren, would always recognize you as my sister.”

  “Hahaha… Then thank you so much.”

  The knife plunged into Lauren’s abdomen.

  Lauren gasped, blood flooding from the wound as her strength began to drain away.

  “But do you know what I hate most in this world?” Indiana twisted the blade cruelly, her voice trembling with rage. “Being born a bastard of the Evercrest family. I’d rather you called me a servant than your sister.”

  Lauren’s vision blurred as warm blood poured down her body.

  “You… nonsense…” Her voice cracked. “You enjoyed the resources of an Evercrest lady, yet despised the very name that gave them to you…”

  Indiana’s expression twisted with fury as she twisted the knife deeper. “I deserve it all. I was always meant to be a daughter of the Evercrest family!”

  Lauren gave a hoarse laugh, blood dribbling from her lips. “No… I gave you those resources.”

  Indiana’s face darkened, veins throbbing in her temples. “You—you deserve to die for that.”

  With a snarl, she wrenched the dagger free and drove it into Lauren again.

  “It’s your whore of a mother’s fault,” Indiana spat, her voice shrill with hatred. “If it weren’t for her, my mother would have been mistress of this house!”

  Lauren’s brows knitted, but her lips curled into a bloody smile. “Your mother… a prostitute from the House of Roses? Hahaha… dreaming of being a noble lady. You’re killing me.”

  “Shut up!” Indiana shrieked, stabbing her again and again, her hands slick with blood.

  “If it weren’t for you,” she cried, her face splattered red, “I’d have been Father’s only daughter! Even as a bastard, no one would dare look down on me. But you—you’re the stain I can never wash away!”

  The stone chamber rang with the sound of blade meeting flesh, blood spraying, staining Indiana from head to toe.

  With the last of her strength, Lauren forced the words out, her voice trembling but resolute:

  “Now… you are the child of destiny. No one looks down on you. The only person who despises your status… is you.”

  Her vision darkened, but just before the end, she thought she saw something—her jade bone flute glinting with a flash of light, dazzling and swift, gone in the blink of an eye.

  Indiana clutched it to her chest, laughing through tears, stroking the smooth surface like a lover.

  “I know you were good to me,” she whispered, voice dripping with madness. “So don’t worry, Lauren. We’ll be together forever. Wherever I go, I’ll take you with me.”