The Villainess Wants to Change Her Destiny

Calista continued to chase after Elias, her breath coming in ragged gasps as tears streamed down her face. 

"Elias, please!" she cried out again, her voice choked with emotion. 

The distance between them wasn't closing fast enough, and the thought of him just walking away, leaving her shattered, fueled her desperation. 

Suddenly, her foot caught on something unseen in the grass. With a startled yelp, Calista stumbled forward, her arms flailing wildly as she tried to regain her balance. 

It was no use. She pitched headlong, hitting the ground with a painful thud. A sharp pain shot through her knee, and her hands scraped against the rough ground. 

Elias, who had been a good distance ahead, heard the cry and the subsequent thud behind him. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then spun around, his eyes scanning the path behind him. 

When he saw Calista crumpled on the ground, his posture, which had been so rigid, seemed to falter. The frown on his face was replaced by a flicker of alarm. 

He quickly retraced his steps, his initial brisk walk transforming into rapid strides. 

"Calista!" he exclaimed, his voice sharper than before, but this time laced with genuine concern. 

He knelt beside her, his formal demeanor momentarily forgotten. "Are you alright? What happened?"

Calista was still on the ground, her head meeting the ground. She slowly lifted up her head with her eyes still closed, but the tears flowing down her cheeks were visible. 

There's a visible scratch on her forehead caused by the collision with the ground. 

She sniffled, her shoulders shaking, "I-I tripped," she managed to gasp out between her sobs, her voice thick. 

Elias sighed. 

Calista finally opened her eyes and looked at Elias with her blurry vision. She can't see his expression clearly because of her tears, but she somehow feels that Elias became much more gentle with her. 

Elias gently took her arm, helping her sit up. He quickly assessed her scraped hands, the slightly reddened patch on her forehead, her knees where her dress had ridden up, and some other minor scratches on her body. 

"You're bleeding," he noted, his tone surprisingly soft. 

He looked around as if expecting a first-aid kit to magically appear in the manicured garden. 

Elias was about to step away from her when Calista instinctively grabbed him, so it was too late for her to realize that she grabbed his collar. A small snap was heard that made the two freeze. 

"W-what was that?" she asked nervously as she looked at Elias with her eyes wide in shock. 

Elias's expression was lagging for a second before his poker face came back.

"Nothing," he shrugged it off as he pulled away from Calista's touch. 

He stepped back away from her and fixed his collar while simply tapping the area below his collar as if he was inspecting something. Calista saw how Elias froze and momentarily showed a horrified expression. 

"Elias," she called nervously. 

Elias didn't respond to her call. 

Calista felt her stomach churn out of nervousness because seeing someone who was normally calm become horrified made her feel like that. 

She doesn't know what's happening, but she feels like there's a doom brewing. 

There's an anxious expression on his face as he slowly steps away and hurriedly turns his back on her and walks away in fast strides. 

"Elias!" Calista called, her voice laced with concern and anxiety.

He didn't respond, his strides lengthening with each step. The rigid set of his shoulders was back. even more pronounced than before. 

He didn't look back, didn't hesitate, and just moved with a renewed, urgent purpose. 

Calista watched him go, a fresh wave of tears blurring her vision as the distance between them grew once more. 

***

In a dimly lit room in the Vermilion Manor. 

It was a dim office that felt like a hushed secret; the huge windows were heavily curtained against the world outside. The sunlight was like a mere dust on the mahogany with faint streaks, revealing the room steeped with luxury and power. 

There's an empowering high-backed chair behind the mahogany table with an imposing man seated. 

The man has a sharp gaze with his elbow laid on the arm of the chair while staring intently at the object laid on the table.

The necklace has a silver chain with an imposing sword pendant. It was a beautiful necklace until someone noticed the ripped link of the chain. 

It was broken. 

The black-haired man heaves a long sigh at the appearance of the necklace. 

A child with dark auburn hair, standing in front of the mahogany table, flinches at the man's sigh. 

"Why did you steal this, Elias? Is that supposed to be a noble act?" the man behind the table asked in a calm, dominating tone. 

Elias's shoulder shook, and his palm became sweaty. He bit his lower lip before speaking, "I apologize, Your Grace!"

Elias brought his knees to the ground with his head bowed and pleading. 

Magnus massaged the bridge of his nose as he glanced at the groveling position of his second son. His son knew how severe his crime of stealing a precious heirloom of the family was, as only those who are the owners of the heirloom can touch it. 

"Who told you its location?"

Elias flinched at the question as a memory came into his mind. He remembered one time he was hanging out in the garden with someone.

He just happened to have just finished his daily lessons when he encountered a familiar man. This man has a striking and composed appearance with sleek, slicked-back dark brown hair. Even though this man has a nonchalant personality, his deep hazel eyes were warm and perceptive. 

"Young master," he called with a small smile on his face. 

This man was always around the manor, as he was one of the key servants in the family. Elias already talked to this man a couple of times, and he found it always enjoyable. 

"What lessons have you learned for today?" he asked.

"We talked about the heirlooms that our family owned. It was interesting," Elias said with a small smile on his lips. 

"What's the most interesting heirloom for you?" 

Elias contemplated for a moment before opening his mouth, "The sword pendant was the most interesting one. The importance and story behind it captivated me the most. Its previous owners gave a significant contribution to the kingdom."

The man's smile widened slightly. "Indeed, Young Master. This pendant was passed down to the head of the Vermilion family, and the current owner of that pendant is the current duke, Duke Magnus."

There's a pause before he responded back. "Is that so?"

As if the man could feel the disappointment in his tone, the man opened his mouth and said something that would make his feeling better. "Do you want to get a glimpse of the sword pendant?"

Now that Elias remembered that memory, he shut his eyes tightly as he felt the sweat trickling down his forehead. His heart rate increased, and his breathing became shallow. 

He doesn't know how to respond to that question because he knows that if he tells the truth, that man will be in trouble. And he doesn't want that to happen. 

"Elias," his father called in a firm and clear tone, pressing much more pressure into him. 

"N-no one," he stuttered. 

Elias heard a sigh coming from his father. 

"I-I will take responsibility, Your Grace," Elias nervously stated. 

"And how would you take responsibility?" the duke demanded. 

Elias's hands curled into trembling fists against the rug. The atmosphere in the room was heavy and badly suffocating him.

He uncomfortably shifted his knees on the carpeted floor before responding. "I-I'll do whatever punishment you deem fit, Your Grace," Elias said, the words catching in his throat. "Just...please don't punish anyone else."

Magnus leaned his back slowly in his chair, fingers steeping before his lips. His sharp gaze never leaves his son. 

"Such noble words," Magnus muttered, almost to himself. "And yet...suspiciously timed. You were never a child prone to theft. What changed, Elias?"

Elias didn't answer. His gaze dropped lower, shoulders hunched under invisible weight. His silence was its own answer. 

The duke's eyes narrowed slightly. "The sword pendant isn't merely an item. You know what it means to this family, to our lineage. It represents legacy, power, and burden. And you thought to claim it in secret."

Elias flinched again. 

"And now," the duke continued, his voice turning glacial, "it is broken."

A knock echoed from the office door. One sharp rap, then silence. 

"Enter," Magnus called, not taking his eyes off his son. 

The door creaked open, and in stepped an older man—tall, wiry, with flecks of gray at his temples and a grave look on his face. It was the steward, Aldren.

"Your Grace," Aldren said with a slight bow, "Lady Calista has requested an audience. She...seemed rather distressed."

Magnus's brow twitched. "Did she say why?"

"No, Your Grace." Aldren's eyes flicked to the boy still on the floor. 

Magnus heaves a sigh before opening his mouth. "Tell her I'm coming."

Magnus turns his eyes to his son. "That's for today. Go to your room and don't do anything."