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Draco, a kind and headstrong servant of the Juntasa manor - a manor my father built to keep my mother and me away from him as far as possible without letting the public know - was someone who I owed a lot of favours to.

He had been loyal to both my mother and I to the end, despite the way we were. On his dying bed, I had found out the reason for his loyalty was due to the connection he felt he had with me in regards of our situation. He too had a highly acclaimed father, and like me, grew up only knowing his mother's affection. The difference, however, was that his mother died from an illness when he was ten. From there he built a path and future for himself; eventually becoming a knight before resigning at the age of twenty-nine in order to work at our manor. He was a man of honor with of a bright future, and lighted path.

I, on the other hand, practically built a road of destruction for myself and everyone else in the manor.

Becca and Coco, our other servants, were in their mid-thirties when they started to work for us. Two weeks after Draco's death, the two of them were killed by being beheaded after I ordered them to try and poison my younger sister, Rose. It had been a stupid move but at that time my mindset had been focused on finding wrongs in my siblings. So I pushed my anger of losing my strongest servant onto her. In reality I should have been angry with myself because Draco only lost his life due to the fact that I had him team up with underground rebels - who I paid to kill everyone, except for my father, on the day of my brother-in-law's coronation. Really, what a foolish person I was.

Looking at the ex-soldier watering the roses was a strange thought. Almost as strange as the fact that someone like me was given a second chance to re-live my life. Walking over to the busy man, I called out to get his attention.

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"Draco."

He turned around and gave me a bright smile.

"Little lady, what are you doing out here?" he asked, setting down the watering can and kneeling on one knee before me. I bit back a slight smile at his nickname for me. I used to hate it, to the point where I ordered him with harsh words to never call me by such a title. It was an embarrassment, was what the previous me thought. But the way his hand slipped through mine, as blood spewed from his lips during his final moments, had made me wished for a chance to hear him call me by the soft spoken title once again. A chance I now had.

"I have a favour to ask."

He arched an eyebrow, "What is it?"

I held my head high, "Teach me how to fight."

He looked at me with bewilderment, before shifting to a slightly amused look. "Are you certain that's what you want?"

"Very much so."

"How about this," he said, grabbing hold my shoulders. "I'll teach you how to fight and how to use magic once you turn five. Right now, I'm afraid you're too small and too young."

I pursed my lips impatiently. "Three is young, but five isn't?"

He shook his head, letting go of my shoulders. "Five is young as well, but nobles tend to usually gain their magic at five. And once you do gain your powers, your stamina will also improve. That being said, girls usually go into etiquette and such, but knowing you, I'm sure you can handle both types of training."

I look up at the older man who began to water the flowers again. He looked so at peace compared to his final moments after he was ordered to commit suicide by drinking poison when his betrayal came to light. A slight sting nibbled at my heart. "Why do you trust me so?" I asked the very question that haunted me for years. Because while we were both illegitimate children, my past foul acts were more than enough for him to realize that I was nothing more than a stuck-up and blinded brat. Yet he never left my side. Not then, and probably not now.

"Because, little lady," he smiled gently, "I see flames in your eyes that I see in my own."

I could only hold back a bitter smile at his words. Our flames...were nothing alike, and I hope it never is.