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Chapter 3
Drip.
Drip.
I heard the sound of liquid falling.
Or perhaps…
It was the sound of blood.
The last thing I remembered was sitting in the bathtub, my wrist deeply slashed, blankly watching drops of blood fall into the water.
Then…
My consciousness slowly faded.
I closed my eyes, feeling the strength gradually leave my body.
So this is how I die…
That was what I had been thinking.
Then, suddenly…
Light flooded my vision.
It felt as though someone was standing beside me.
A low voice echoed in my ears.
“This is all because the Duke failed as a husband. I said I wanted to possess her—I never said I already had her.”
“And you can call that my fault? Wasn’t it Your Highness who threatened the Border Count and forced her into this situation?”
“That was only because the Border Count was excessively loyal.”
“You really do have an excuse for everything. Why don’t you just say it’s Rose’s fault as well?”
It was Ashiard…
And the Crown Prince.
Ashiard’s face was gaunt, exhaustion etched into every feature as he confronted the Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince, meanwhile, concealed his irritation behind an infuriatingly smooth smile.
I was certain my eyes were closed.
Yet somehow…
I felt as though I were watching the scene unfold before me.
…Did he fight for me?
Even in my hazy state, a faint longing spread through my heart.
But…
Ever since our relationship had fallen apart, Ashiard had become so cold toward me.
If that was true…
Then this had to be a dream.
The wavering scene dissolved into another.
“To think you’d go this far just to sell your only daughter… Are you satisfied now?”
“…I merely fulfilled my duty.”
“Your duty? You call throwing your own daughter into hell your duty?”
“…In the end, it was her own choice, Your Grace.”
“So that’s your excuse. Rose pitied you until the very end, believing a man like you was her father.”
This Ashiard looked even thinner than before.
His cheeks were hollow.
Only his eyes remained alive…
Burning with hatred as he glared at my father.
They were speaking as though I were already dead.
So…
Was this after my death?
Am I really dreaming?
The scene changed once more.
This time, it was a gathering of nobles whose faces I recognized but whose names I had never learned.
Whether it was a banquet or a tea party, they stood together whispering amongst themselves.
“I heard His Grace argued with the Crown Prince again.”
“Argued? It’s more accurate to say His Highness keeps taking his anger out on House Fontaine.”
“The Duke isn’t exactly backing down, though. Every time the Crown Prince attacks, he retaliates. I heard Harriet and Linus even had to step in recently.”
“This is terrible. The Duchess died without leaving an heir, and now the Duke has become like this…”
“At this rate, the collateral branches may seize control of the family. What a tragedy for such an ancient house…”
Ashiard… fought with the Crown Prince?
Without realizing it, I reached out.
Perhaps I thought I could somehow grasp the scene before it disappeared.
With every vision…
It felt more and more like I was standing beside him, watching everything unfold.
Was that merely an illusion?
Or…
The moment my hand moved…
The vision shattered.
And Ashiard appeared once more.
He was alone.
The enormous room was filled with empty liquor bottles.
There was no proper meal.
No servants.
No companions.
Only him.
Slumped in a chair with another bottle hanging loosely from his hand.
“…Rose… Did you truly resent me that much?”
“The man who could never protect you… who only kept running away…”
His voice barely reached me.
So soft it seemed it might vanish if I stopped listening.
A voice on the verge of breaking.
“I’m sorry…”
“I’m so sorry…”
“It was my fault…”
“I should have protected you better…”
His fading voice continued.
Unable to bear it any longer…
I covered my mouth with both hands.
“I couldn’t believe in your love…”
“Something I never thought could happen to me… happened so easily…”
“No…”
“Those are only excuses.”
“I should have trusted you.”
“I…”
“I failed you…”
No…
That’s not true…
I’m sorry for leaving you alone…
There was so much I wanted to tell him.
Yet all that escaped me were broken sobs.
His trembling confession…
My tears…
Everything slowly blurred together as the vision gradually dissolved.
“I love you, Rose.”
“I’ll see you again soon…”
Crash!
The sound of shattering glass rang through the air.
No…
Was that the sound of him drawing his sword?
Then I saw it.
He took out a small bottle filled with a suspicious-looking liquid…
And drank it.
What…?
What are you doing?
What are you drinking?
“I’ll see you again”…
What are you trying to do?
No…
Don’t!
Please don’t…
Ashiard!
No!
“NO!”
Gasp!
I bolted upright so violently that I nearly tumbled out of bed.
…
A bed?
Why am I… in a bed?
Warmth surrounded me.
Soft blankets embraced my body.
Didn’t I… die?
Instinctively, I grabbed my wrist.
I had…
I had definitely slit it.
But…
There wasn’t even the faintest scar.
This wasn’t the body that had withered away under endless loneliness.
My skin was smooth.
Healthy.
Firm.
There wasn’t a single wound anywhere.
No pain.
Except…
A faint ache when I pressed lightly against my wrist.
I continued touching my wrist…
My hand…
My arm…
Carefully examining my entire body.
Why does only this place hurt?
Is it because…
It’s where I gave up my life?
The memory of that day remained vivid.
As though it had happened only moments ago.
Yet my body bore no trace of it.
What…
Had happened?
A chill ran down my spine as I stared at the body that had somehow returned to its former state.
I gently pressed my wrist again before moving.
The blanket slipped from my shoulders.
Everything felt unreal.
A delicate canopy surrounded the bed, shielding me from the bright morning sunlight.
Beyond the gently swaying curtains…
The room looked strangely familiar.
This is…
My gaze wandered across the canopy…
The bed…
The room decorated in bright colors I had never used while living in the North.
Everything had an elegant, feminine charm.
It was…
The bedroom in my aunt’s mansion.
The room where I had stayed before marrying Ashiard.
Neither Ashiard nor I had ever liked canopy beds.
But…
I had only stayed here once.
Before our marriage.
Afterward, I rarely visited my aunt.
So why…
Is this another dream?
Am I seeing the past now?
“Miss! Are you awake?”
Knock. Knock.
Jenna’s voice came from outside the door.
The sudden knocking startled me so badly I nearly jumped.
It isn’t blurry…
Unlike the earlier dreams…
Her voice sounded clear.
Vivid.
Can dreams become this realistic?
And…
“Miss?”
Even Cleor, House Mason’s steward who regularly reported on affairs in the North because Father never managed them himself, occasionally called me “Miss.”
He always laughed, saying he’d used that title his whole life and couldn’t change overnight.
But Jenna had been different.
She stubbornly insisted on calling me “My Lady.”
“You’re married now, so naturally your title has changed.”
That had always been her answer.
So why…
Was she calling me “Miss”?
“Miss! Are you still asleep?”
“Ah…”
“Come in, Jenna.”
“You can come in.”
Questions could wait.
Right now, I needed answers.
And Jenna was the only person who might have them.
The instant I gave permission, she burst through the door.
She hurried straight to my bedside.
“Oh, honestly!”
She threw back the blankets with a sigh.
“You always wake up early. Why did you sleep in today?”
“…I wonder.”
“I know you came home late yesterday and must be tired, but your guest will be arriving soon.”
“My guest?”
“This early?”
With practiced ease, Jenna helped me out of bed before neatly making it.
After smoothing the blankets into perfect order, she smiled brightly.
“Yes! You said yesterday that a wonderful gentleman would be visiting today!”
“…A wonderful gentleman?”
A Jenna who called me “Miss.”
The bedroom from before my marriage.
And a man I had supposedly called wonderful…
“Ashiard…?”
“Oh my!”
“Even his name sounds handsome!”
Jenna clapped excitedly.
“When you came home yesterday, you said today’s guest was someone very special. The Count, the Marquis, and even Madam have been nervous ever since.”
“I heard a messenger arrived this morning too.”
She giggled happily.
“Our young lady is already meeting gentlemen!”
“I knew someone as popular as you wouldn’t stay single for long.”
She hummed cheerfully to herself.
Of course…
She couldn’t possibly understand how utterly confused I was.
Taking a slow breath, I looked at her.
“Jenna.”
“What day is it today?”
“Today?”
“It’s April 24th.”
“What year?”
“The 383rd year of the Imperial Calendar.”
“But why are you asking something like that, Miss?”
“383…”
If it was Imperial Year 383…
Then it was before my marriage.
April…
The month of my debutante ball.
If my memory was correct…
Our family had only recently arrived in the capital from the North because the Emperor had ordered me to attend my debut.
And…
At this point…
I hadn’t met Ashiard yet.
Before every tragedy that destroyed our lives had begun.
Then…
Was the “wonderful gentleman” someone else?
Had I met another man during our stay in the capital?
After thinking for a moment, I sighed.
The important thing wasn’t who he was.
The important thing was…
Someone was coming to see me.
And until I knew whether this was a dream or reality…
All I could do was accept what was happening and search for answers.
Imperial Year 383.
April.
Whether dream or reality…
The truth would reveal itself soon enough.
“Yesterday was your debutante, remember?”
“You kept saying this year’s debut was unusually early.”
“You were so excited.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten after just one day?”
The moment Jenna finished speaking…
Something flashed through my mind.
I’d been so focused on the month that I’d forgotten the exact date.
The only year the debutante had been moved forward to mid-April…
Was Year 383.
Because the Crown Prince had insisted on it.
How could I have forgotten that?
Imperial Year 383.
April 24th.
That day…
Was the day after I met Ashiard for the very first time at my debutante ball.
