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Chapter 1
A Fairytale for the Villain
It was their wedding night.
Princess Isabel, from a small and powerless kingdom, had married a noble of the Empire—one blessed with wealth, looks, and rank.
If there was just one problem…
She was going to die tonight.
Isabel was the Duke’s thirteenth bride—the man cursed so that every bride died on the wedding night.
Fresh from her bath, Isabel sat at the edge of the bed, clad only in thin nightwear.
She gulped wine straight from the bottle and set the empty glass aside.
Her fourth glass was already drained.
I’ve died over and over from this curse, and it still feels strange.
A mountain of dread pinned her shoulders and wrapped cold fingers around her limbs.
Click.
The bedroom door opened. Her husband, Grand Duke Karl Baschke, entered.
Unlike Isabel, freshly bathed and dressed lightly, he still wore stiff formal attire.
His tall, sword-hardened body fit the clothes perfectly.
Yet Isabel couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed—she had expected at least a night robe.
“Are… you prepared, Princess?”
Was he asking if she was ready to die? Isabel let out a laugh that was half a sigh.
“Judging by that face, you’re the one who isn’t ready, Your Grace.”
Wasn’t this the naval admiral who once stood unshaken against waves that could swallow the sky?
Right now he looked like a boy launching a paper boat onto a turbulent river.
“It’s your thirteenth marriage. You should be used to it by now.”
Why waste such a handsome face making that expression? Anyone would think he was the one dying.
Isabel stood and stepped close.
Her cheeks and lips were a deeper red than usual.
The Duke’s gaze darted toward the wine bottle.
“Where are you looking?”
Isabel cupped his face with both hands and smiled foolishly.
His eyes widened. Something flickered inside them before he dropped his gaze.
“Princess, you should leave. Even now. I won’t stop you.”
The words spilled out rapidly, in a voice uncharacteristically small.
In all his twelve marriages, this was the first time the Duke had ever stepped into the bride’s chambers.
He had come only to tell her to escape.
But Isabel couldn’t know his heart—and she simply smiled, eyes tinged with sadness.
“Leave and do what? I’m dying tonight anyway.”
She wrapped her arms tightly around him.
Warm.
That was something she would never have done normally.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the looming death. Her emotions rose unfiltered to the surface.
“You and I are pitiful, you know.”
“What do you mean.”
“Everyone calls us villains. When the unfairness isn’t even ours.”
This world made no sense.
Isabel looked toward the window. Darkness like a curtain swallowed the sky.
“The sun set, but you’re still not turning into a beast?”
“Only the wedding night is exempt.”
“What a ridiculous curse.”
Isabel giggled up at him.
Their eyes met in the air.
The man—a full head taller—froze like a snared beast.
He forgot how to speak. Only stared at her.
“Thank you for everything.”
She meant it. Because of him, she had lived her last life comfortably.
“I’d be lying if I said I don’t have regrets—but I don’t regret choosing you.”
She tapped his nose lightly.
The Duke’s face twisted suddenly.
Lifting trembling fists, he cupped hers cheeks, forcing her to meet his eyes.
Their lips met in an instant.
For all his neat buttoned-up dignity, his actions were anything but gentle.
Maybe there were things to regret about life—but not this.
She fell into his embrace and waited for midnight.
Ding—
The clock struck twelve.
“Damn it—God above…”
No. The Duke clutched her like she’d vanish.
The black curse rose from his body like smoke.
It rushed toward Isabel.
But—
What…?
The darkness meant to strangle her neck began being sucked elsewhere.
Isabel looked down.
A golden light poured from her heart, forming a clock. Its hands spun madly, swallowing every drop of the curse.
Crack—
When it finished, the glowing clock shattered to dust.
“…Isabel?”
The lips that had murmured her name all night did so again.
The Duke bent desperately and pressed his ear to her chest.
Thump-thump.
Her heartbeat rang clear.
Isabel lifted her hand and touched him in turn.
His warmth. His strength. Real.
Holy— I’m not dead.
I survived. Really survived.
“I’m alive, Your Grace!”
She threw her arms around his neck, cheering.
He held her so tightly it almost hurt, disbelief shaking his body.
It was a miracle unlike any before.
They clung to each other for a long time.
Then, as if by silent agreement, they pulled apart awkwardly.
“That— I’m glad you lived, Princess.”
Truly glad. The Duke cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at her.
“Right? I’m so happy I dodged that curse that I—uh…”
Isabel covered her eyes, embarrassed.
Of course he’s shocked the bride survived.
They were supposed to live like strangers afterward. They even signed a contract. Surely he had no feelings for her.
She scrubbed her face, brushing away foolish hopes.
Though, that was a very… intense night for strangers.
But she chalked it up to nerves, wine, and impending death.
“So what happens to me now?”
Separate houses? Divorce?
But the Duke answered plainly.
“You are already the Grand Duchess.”
He tugged her slipping nightgown back onto her shoulder, then sprang from the bed.
He turned away and fussed with his clothes, hiding his face.
Flustered?
Isabel noticed the tips of his ears glowing red.
“I’ll have rooms prepared for you in the manor. Tell the servants anything you require.”
He rattled the words in a rush, not giving her space to reply.
Then practically fled the room.
“What was that reaction…”
She stared at the closed door.
So unlike him—almost like… a man smitten.
Jung Se-ha was traveling through a rural village somewhere in Europe.
The Rabbit Hole River was famous for bungee jumping.
Se-ha leaped boldly toward the blue water—
and died.
The rope had been cut too long. The company’s mistake.
But she clearly died.
“Where am I?”
Se-ha awoke on a strange beach.
Tick tick tick tick.
A bizarre clock floated in midair.
And then she realized.
She had possessed someone in the fairy tale The Little Mermaid.
She was now the princess from the neighboring kingdom—the one who married the prince the mermaid saved.
Se-ha played her role faithfully.
The prince was trash. And the princess—thought to be a side character—was infamous as a villain, but still married him like in the tale.
The marriage was difficult, but bearable.
Then: plot twist.
The mermaid, dissolved into sea foam, awakened as the Spirit King of Air.
Wait—this isn’t the original fairy tale?
The mermaid and her allies destroyed the Empire.
And Se-ha died again.
Only three months after being reborn.
Tick tick tick.
Again, she woke on the beach.
“The same spot?!”
This time she abandoned the prince where he collapsed. He suffocated and died.
Isabel was arrested for regicide and burned at the stake.
On the exact same date as before.
Tick tick.
Another death. Another awakening.
“F**k?”
The curse was déjà vu.
She tried being kind. Helping the prince and mermaid fall in love.
But the damn prince confessed to her instead.
“Isabel, marry me.”
“You have Delphine!”
“I can’t make a mute halfwit my Empress.”
The mermaid overheard—and stabbed Isabel with her dagger.
“If you were gonna stab someone… stab that bastard prince…”
So unfair. All she did was get confessed to.
Everything faded.
Same death date.
Tick.
Let me die. Don’t revive me. Stop ticking.
Even with fewer chimes, Isabel shut her eyes tight.
Is the universe playing with me? Even if there’s a god, this is too much.
The waves whispered through silence she wished would last forever.
But time didn’t stop.
Fine. First: save the prince so I don’t get burned.
She ran to him and pressed her hand to his chest.
One, two, three compressions—
Cough!
He woke, coughing with aristocratic grace.
She punched his chest again.
Because she could.
He gasped and glared.
“Did you just strike me?”
“No.”
“Then did you save—”
“No.”
She pointed at the sea.
“That mermaid saved you. And now she’s running away.”
“…I see nothing.”
“Then maybe your eyes are too small.”
What did she say?! He spluttered.
She ignored him.
Maybe dying three times because of him made her patience thin.
Oh, can’t see her? Fine. I’ll drag her back.
Isabel splashed into the sea up to her neck, jabbing a finger underwater.
“Hey! You! Come out! You saved him, take responsibility!”
The mermaid dove deeper.
“Oh COME ON!”
“Don’t run away and stab random people later! Face your problems!”
A wave rose.
Isabel’s body lifted off the water.
The prince had scooped her up.
“Are you mad? Trying to drown yourself?”
“She’s your savior! We need to catch her!”
“Let us have this discussion on land.”
Still carrying her, he strode back to the shore.
Great. Back on track to Empire-destroying bad ending.
Isabel scrubbed her face, exhausted.
As soon as he set her down, her legs gave out.
“Are you unwell, my lady?”
“I feel like I’m going insane.”
The prince silently agreed.
Her beauty was icy and elegant—but her mind was clearly elsewhere.
“And… where are we?”
Unfamiliar territory. He scanned the surroundings.
“A castle by the shore… perhaps Dezar Kingdom.”
Silence.
He turned back—
“…Hello?”
She was gone.
Skirt gathered high, Isabel sprinted in the opposite direction.
Fast—shockingly fast.
Her pale calves flashed beneath her hem, golden hair whipping like waves.
Stunned, he watched.
And muttered the famous line of every abandoned nobleman:
“You are the first woman to run away from me.”
