CTMA 7

Chapter 7

That dawn, Arpad returned to the Crown Prince’s palace.

The palace attendants on duty flinched at his sudden return.

“Y-Your Highness!”

“You’re back already…?”

“Why? Are you scared I might go insane and tear you all apart?”

“Your Highness!!”

No one dared to argue. Everyone was genuinely afraid—afraid of when the Crown Prince’s madness would erupt.

Behind him hung the blood-red moon—the Crimson Moon, the same one that had risen the night the former Empress died from her madness.

Arpad glared at the moon, disgusted by the reflection of his own eyes in its glow.

‘No one knows that on nights with the Crimson Moon, I spend the night in the catacombs to suppress the madness…’

But that woman had known—and even brought the coin meant for the dead to summon the Mercenary King.

Not only that, he could still feel the pearl she had handed him rolling in his palm.

‘She knew about both the Mercenary King and the Crown Prince—information that could only be known if she were certain they were the same person.’

Details that only Arpad himself should know—knowledge impossible to obtain even with spies scattered across the entire empire.

After sending away the frightened attendants, Arpad examined the “advance payment” she had given him: a pearl larger than his thumbnail glowing with mystical light.

‘It’s real. And I saw her use divine power through the artifact too.’

He brought the pearl to his forehead. The divine energy within reacted to the dragon blood running in his veins.

But—

“It’s useless.”

She had been right.

The blessing within the sacred object could not suppress or cure the madness in his bloodline. His faint hope shattered, Arpad threw the pearl to the ground.

‘Just who is she?’

She had come to him in the most unexpected way and knew what would fail—before even he did.

With delicate pink curls and violet eyes like sugared violets, she had the sweet appearance of someone who might melt with a single touch—

“Even this pearl, even any of the blessed relics—they’re all useless.”

‘Such a cold statement. And she dared to threaten me, too.’

One thing was certain:

‘Whoever she is, she’s dangerous.’

He couldn’t let someone like her stay near Ludwig. If she used her mysterious powers for Ludwig’s sake—

‘The next crown prince could be Ludwig.’

In truth, her “request” had always been a threat disguised as a deal. One he couldn’t refuse.

Her violet eyes stared straight into his without a trace of fear—calm, but with a flicker of madness.

‘I need to see those eyes again to be sure of my decision.’

Arpad looked up at the rising dawn with a wild grin, not realizing how much he resembled a starving beast who had already picked his prey.

He spent the whole night awake, then summoned his chamberlain to bring him his ceremonial white attire.

* * *

There’s a saying I’ve come to hate since my first regression:

“Even if you wring a chicken’s neck, dawn will still come.”

Every time I desperately wished that tomorrow wouldn’t come, it always did—mercilessly.

And so, the morning of my fourth wedding day arrived.

I felt nothing—no excitement, no joy. In fact, quietly waiting in my room like this was a rare occurrence.

The first time I regressed, I ran to the temple to become a nun—and failed.

The most recent time—

‘I tried to escape with Sir Beltane… and failed more miserably than ever.’

Behind me, someone called my name.

“Hillia.”

I slowly turned my head.

“Ludwig…”

My lips trembled saying his name. It wasn’t because I felt nostalgic or had any lingering feelings.

‘Nope. I just want to sock him in the face.’

My fingers holding the bouquet trembled with barely restrained rage.

I’d made one regret yesterday:

‘I was so focused on the transmigrator and the end of my regression that I didn’t plan enough.’

I was too fixated on Arpad.

But seeing Ludwig’s face on the day of our wedding, I felt murderous and suffocated with injustice.

‘I should have punched him at least once in the last three timelines!’

But not now. Not yet. It wasn’t time.

And of course, Ludwig had to open his mouth:

“Do you know how embarrassed I was because of you yesterday? All you did was cry. How are we supposed to have a proper marriage like that?”

He was back to his smug self, trying to gaslight me—just like he did in all three previous lives.

“Because of you, Eva even blamed me—”

He blamed me for his fight with Evangeline. In past lives, the two of them would vent their anger on me and then reconcile sweetly—right in front of me.

“Eva, it’s not your fault. It’s all Hillia’s fault for stealing what was rightfully yours.”

“No, you’re the one suffering in silence. You’re the one who’s truly hurting…”

Ah, those memories. My blood pressure spiked.

‘Hold it in, Hillia Delphine! You must endure!’

Time ticked too slowly. I bowed my head to hide my emotions.

“Crying already? How can you be a duchess with such a weak heart?”

And on and on he droned…

“Even if you were upset about the wedding dress, how could you let your neck end up like that? Where was your mind?”

He was talking about the cut and bruises Arpad left last night.

It looked exactly like a failed suicide attempt.

I had to cover the wound with lace and chokers, which caused another morning fiasco.

Even though Annie had cried and Sir Beltane had panicked—my fiancé used it to scold and blame me.

“Honestly, I’m disappointed, Hillia. I might even reconsider this marriage.”

I knew Ludwig’s tactics. He was waiting for me to beg and apologize.

‘You think I’ll grovel like always?’

I started my performance—biting my lips, forcing tears, and speaking in a trembling voice.

“Actually… Ludwig… someone broke in last night. They tried to strangle me.”

“…What?”

Before he could protest, I spilled the whole story:

“I woke up with a strange feeling… and someone was choking me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Security was tight! You must’ve had a nightmare!”

“Then what about this wound?”

“You probably hurt yourself during the nightmare!”

I burst into tears again.

“Do you think I’d do this to myself? If it wasn’t an outsider, it must’ve been someone inside!”

“…!”

He had no comeback for that.

Even as I wept, nearly collapsing, Ludwig didn’t comfort me. Just stood there, conflicted.

So I fanned the flames.

“There must be someone who wants to stop our wedding, Ludwig! What should we do?”

“That can’t be. No one would—”

He was clearly losing confidence. I pressed harder.

“What if there’s someone who secretly loves you and wants to kill me to stop this wedding?”

“…What?”

His surprise was clear.

“What if it’s a woman so in love with you that she’s willing to kill me?!”

“That’s absurd…”

“Then who else would ruin my dress and try to kill me?”

“If that’s true, why didn’t you call for help?”

I looked him straight in the eye.

“I did.”

“What? No one heard you—”

“I called for you—over and over!”

“Stop talking nonsense!”

Yes, it was nonsense. I was completely silent last night to avoid suspicion over my meeting with Arpad.

But why tell the truth now?

Even I was surprised at how easily I lied to Ludwig. It was just so easy.

“I called your name so many times while being choked… but you didn’t come.”

“You—What are you saying?!”

He looked furious. So I twisted the knife.

“Were you with another woman? Is that why you didn’t hear me?”

“HILLIA!!!”

That hit a nerve. Clearly, he was with someone.

He dismissed it as hysteria—but now he was panicking.

“Stop crying and get up, Hillia!”

He grabbed my wrist and yanked.

“Ah!”

He didn’t know that the bruises from Arpad’s grip were still there.

My scream was sharper than expected.

“W-What…?”

And then—through the half-open door came a voice like thunder:

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ludwig?”

Still holding my wrist, Ludwig spun around in shock.

There stood a middle-aged man in golden ceremonial robes, platinum hair tinged with white.

His beard couldn’t fully hide the scar running from his cheek to his jaw—but it didn’t diminish his authority in the slightest.

We both knew exactly who he was.

“Your Majesty!”