The Regressed Tyrant Princess Rewrites Her Dark History - Chapter 1.1

In the dead of night, as the palace lay in silence, Ariadne walked softly down the dimly lit hallway in her nightgown, the glow of a magical lamp casting long shadows behind her.

“If she wants to die, then why not just let her?”

If her mother, Aria, died, she would finally be free. Bound to the royal palace by her mother’s orders, her death would grant her the independence she had long desired.

“—And yet, why am I heading to her room?”

No matter how much she wished for it, her mother had never given her love. Even when she achieved outstanding academic success, Aria had never so much as smiled at her.

There was no point in trying to save such a cold-hearted woman.

“Besides, it’s not like she would listen to me anyway.”

If Aria had truly decided to die, she would simply tell her not to interfere. Worse, if she was found near the scene, the servants might even accuse her of murdering her own mother.

“Turn back. I am the Crimson Rose—the woman who once ruled the treacherous world of high society, navigating countless schemes and intrigues to reach the top. So why can’t I make such an obvious decision?”

She knew what the rational choice was.

Yet, her body refused to obey.

As if the younger version of herself—the child who had once believed in her mother—still resided within her, unwilling to abandon her.

“…Ugh, fine. I get it.”

With a heavy sigh, she chose to move forward.

(She gave me a tutor, didn’t she? Even if she doesn’t love me, she must have had some expectations for me. If I use that as leverage, I might be able to negotiate with her.)

She would not be rattled by something this trivial. Reaffirming her resolve, she stopped in front of her mother’s bedroom door.

“…I made it.”

It had been years—in another lifetime—since she had last seen her. Even if she ignored that, she had never once approached her mother’s room of her own accord before.

Taking a deep breath, she placed a hand on the door handle.

(Get a grip! I am the Crimson Rose! I may look like this now, but I once stood at the pinnacle of high society. This is nothing!)

Clutching the hem of her nightgown, she flung the door open with force.

“Mother. You wouldn’t happen to be dealing with something so troubling that you’d want to die, would you?”

She immediately cringed at her own words—she would never have made such a clumsy opening in a real negotiation.

But before she could dwell on it, she froze.

A man dressed entirely in black loomed over her mother, pinning her to the bed beneath the pale glow of moonlight.

The wind from an open window brushed against her cheek, chilling her dazed expression.

“Ah—um, I see you already have someone to confide in. My apologies for the intrusion.”

Assuming she had stumbled upon an affair, she took a step back.

In the next instant, the man leapt from the bed.

“Run, Ariadne!”

Her mother clung to the man in desperation, but he effortlessly shoved her aside and lunged at Ariadne instead.

Her eyes narrowed.

“…How vulgar. To think you’d attempt to take both mother and daughter in one night.”

The assassin’s dagger gleamed under the moonlight.

She dropped her center of gravity, swiftly sidestepping him as if gliding across the carpet. She hooked her foot behind his leg in an attempt to trip him—but his sheer momentum threw her off balance as well.

Regaining her footing, she saw the glint of steel in her peripheral vision.

(A soot-coated dagger to dull the reflection…)

With trained instinct, she twisted her body.

The blade narrowly missed, slicing through the strands of her hair instead.

Her stance wavered.

The assassin smirked beneath his mask, certain of his victory.

“—Don’t underestimate me!”

With a sharp snap of her fingers, frost-blue vines erupted from beneath her feet.

The assassin tried to leap away—but the ice was faster.

Tendrils of frozen energy coiled around his limbs, locking him in place mid-step. He stood immobilized, frozen in his own tracks.

(Hah… My physical abilities have regressed, but my magic is still—)

A sudden wave of dizziness struck her.

(No, even my mana reserves have weakened. I feel lightheaded…)

Her skills remained intact, but her body and magical strength had reverted to that of her fifteen-year-old self. What once took no effort now left her breathless.

Still, that was the least of her concerns right now.

She hurried toward her mother.

“Mother! Are you hurt!?”

“Hah… haah… Ariadne… why… are you here?”

She had been shouting just moments ago, yet now her consciousness was slipping. Ariadne quickly scanned the room, her gaze landing on a small vial lying on the floor. Picking it up, she brought it close and took a cautious sniff.

(This scent—Fermoa poison!)

A sweet-scented neurotoxin known for its fast-acting lethality. It was often used in both suicides and assassinations since it allowed one to die without prolonged suffering. In fact, she had once used this very poison to eliminate the First Prince.

However, precisely because it was commonly used, an antidote existed.

“This is an emergency! Somebody, anyone—help!”

Ariadne’s sharp cry sent a ripple of commotion through the mansion.

“What happened—hii! Who is this man!?”

The first to burst into the room was Sybilla, her personal maid. At the sight of the assassin still standing frozen in place, bound by magic, she let out a terrified shriek, momentarily oblivious to the real crisis.

“Sybilla! My mother was poisoned by an assassin! Get a doctor, now!”

“Huh? Your Highness? Wait, what—Princess Aria!?”

“Just hurry! Tell the doctor it’s Fermoa poison—he must bring the antidote immediately!”

“U-Understood!”

Snapped out of her panic by Ariadne’s urgent command, Sybilla bolted from the room. Without waiting for her return, Ariadne grabbed a nearby pitcher and began pouring water down her mother’s throat.

Though barely conscious, Aria managed to swallow, coughing slightly as she did. Once she had ingested enough, Ariadne forced her fingers down her mother’s throat, making her vomit to expel what poison remained.

She had never once received her mother’s love.

Just minutes ago, she had thought it would be better if Aria died.

And yet, here she was, doing everything in her power to keep her alive.

(—Because I can’t help it!)

Aria had told her to run.

Even as she was pinned down and poisoned, instead of begging her daughter for help, she had used her last strength to urge her to flee.

Such words were uncharacteristic of her.

She could have misheard. But no—Aria had truly told her to escape.

She had even clung to the assassin to buy her time.

Almost as if… she had truly cared.

“Stay with me, Mother! I won’t let you die like this!”

She kept forcing her to drink water and vomit, desperately keeping her conscious.

Midway through, the house steward, Heino, stormed into the room with several knights and maids.

“Your Highness, what in the world is happening!?”

“Heino, that man is an assassin. Have the knights restrain him. My mother was poisoned with Fermoa—Sybilla has gone to get a doctor. Prepare hot water and blankets immediately!”

Under normal circumstances, her decisive orders might have seemed out of character. But in this emergency, there was no room for questions. Without hesitation, Heino followed her commands.

Before long, Sybilla returned, leading a physician into the room.

“Is it true that Lady Aria was poisoned with Fermoa!?”

“The vial is over there.”

The doctor lifted the vial, inhaling its scent before nodding grimly.

“No doubt about it. Princess Aria, here is the antidote.”

As the doctor began treatment, Ariadne stepped back from the bedside. But the moment her feet touched the floor, her legs buckled, sending her collapsing onto the carpet.

Sybilla caught her just in time.

“Your Highness! Are you all right!?”

“I’m fine… Just magical exhaustion.”

She could barely form the words, her breathing ragged.

“More importantly… focus on my mother’s treatment… That takes priority…”

“Heino… you can still… follow my orders, can’t you?”

At this point in time, she had never once given commands to the house steward.

Yet Heino stepped forward without hesitation, bowing deeply.

“Whatever you wish, Your Highness.”

“First… strengthen my mother’s security… and lock down the princess’s palace. There’s no guarantee… that the intruder was acting alone.”

“Understood. I will take immediate action.”

“Good… I will… rest now. The rest… is in your hands…”

Muttering these last words, she lost consciousness in Sybilla’s arms.