While speaking, Silvia slightly smiled and tucked away a strand of chestnut hair that had fallen.
"Looking back now, it seems like a rather childish, even somewhat laughable reason," she said.
"My situation, how the world views me, how could it be so easily improved?
"On the contrary, the stronger I become, the more likely it is that people would wish for my death."
Her breath mingled with her words, turning into white mist in the cold air.
"But—"
"For the me back then, young, naive, and less aware of the world's ways."
"That elusive and unrealistic hope had already become the only solace and lifeline in that little girl's heart."
Her gaze fell upon Shiayar's distinct profile. "The me now would not harbor such childish thoughts.
"But still, in my heart, I continue to hold such a yearning.
"Not for the recognition of others, nor for those so-called flowers, glory, and applause...
"But because I want to be like my father and you, Brother Shiayar.
