TYND 01

Chapter 01

“Wake up, Arsinöe.”

With the creak of a door opening, a dry voice devoid of any emotion shook Lucy’s consciousness awake.

When did she fall asleep?

As she slowly lifted her heavy eyelids and wiggled her fingers, a clattering sound echoed in her ears—chains striking against each other. Before her senses could fully return, a searing pain pierced through her entire body.

Even after such brutal torture, the fact that she had been able to sleep almost made her laugh.

Lucy raised her head, staring through bloodshot eyes at the front of the cell while gazing down at the chains wrapped tightly around her wrists.

A dark silhouette stood in the middle of the filthy prison, spine straight, looking down at her. The man, silently enduring her gaze, spoke in a mocking tone.

“You still have such sharp eyes. It seems you’re still quite comfortable, Crown Princess.”

“Cut the ‘princess’ nonsense, Your Highness.”

At her sharp reply, the man let out a faint laugh. It was a refreshing, almost gentle sound—utterly incompatible with the man who had personally thrown his wife into prison.

Lucy ground her lips together before forcing out her words as if vomiting them.

“What brings you to such a filthy place?”

“Ah. I came to bring you good news.”

Lucy frowned, staring up at him. She tried to read his expression, but the light pouring in through the open door obscured his face, making it impossible to see clearly.

Even so, she didn’t need to see it.

She knew he was smiling.

Swallowing dryly, Lucy forced her voice out with difficulty.

“Even if you don’t tell me, I already know. You’ve finally taken my homeland, haven’t you?”

Though she began calmly, her voice trembled at the end, unable to contain the sorrow rising within her. The man caught her emotion instantly and curled his lips in amusement.

“Thank you. It was all thanks to the information you provided. We used the royal family’s secret passage and it led straight into the royal residence. That damned General Highberg gave us some trouble, but we were still able to slaughter them with relative ease.”

As the man spoke with satisfaction, Lucy’s face grew increasingly pale. Eventually, she squeezed out a trembling question.

“M-my mother… what about her?”

“Whether it’s fortune or misfortune, your mother was already dead. Only her corpse remained. You’ll be joining her soon enough, so you’ll reunite before long.”

“……”

“Hmm. Are you crying?”

The man tilted his head slightly, amused.

“I thought you were someone who didn’t have emotions at all. So you’re sad because your mother died?”

“…Of course not.”

Her mother’s death had already been expected. At this point, it didn’t matter.

What hurt wasn’t that.

“It’s just… disheartening that this is happening all over again.”

Three times.

She had already been betrayed by the crown prince three times and lost her country each time. And soon, a third death would follow.

The first time, she died after turning her back on the crown prince who sought to seize her country.

The second time, she died while trying to escape him.

And now—the third time.

She had played the spy, flattering him and clinging to him, yet she had still ended up like this.

No matter how much she struggled, she could not escape the cycle of death. Three lives, countless long years of conflict, alliance, and submission—yet she could not avoid her end.

She swallowed her rising emotions, forcing the tears back down her throat.

But they still spilled.

The smell of her own body mixed with the bitter scent of tears filling her nose.

She let the tears fall but clenched her lips tightly, refusing to cry out loud. That was the only pride she had left.

“Are you going to kill me?”

There was no answer.

Biting down hard, Lucy moved her chained hands and wiped her tears away. After only a moment’s hesitation, she slowly bent her body and knelt at his feet.

“Please grant me one final request, Your Highness. Show mercy to this lowly woman and allow me to end my own life.”

The man’s eyes gleamed with interest.

In a more desperate tone, she continued.

“A woman who sold out her own country does not deserve peace. Please allow me to end this filthy life with my homeland’s relic… the sword I always carried.”

The man stared down at her for a moment, then slowly knelt on one knee.

His long fingers lifted her chin. A clean, refined scent of perfume contrasted sharply with the stench of her own body.

“How pitiful. No matter how cruel and heartless I may be, I cannot deny a former wife even that much mercy.”

His touch, tracing her split lips, was unexpectedly gentle. After softly stroking her cheek, he gestured to the guard beside him.

Clang.

With a loud metallic sound, a dirty dagger was thrown to the ground.

He stood up, brushed off his hands, and glanced at the fallen blade.

“That’s the shabby relic you always cherished. Farewell, Arsinöe.”

Without hesitation, he turned away and left the prison, leaving only his footsteps behind. The guards who remained kicked Lucy’s weakened body after unlocking her chains.

“Traitor trash asking for mercy. How disgusting.”

With those final words, they too disappeared, leaving her alone.

For a long moment, Lucy simply caught her breath. Then, trembling, she reached out and picked up the dagger.

It was small, almost like a decorative piece, yet far too crude to be ornamental.

The man had often mocked her for always carrying such a dirty object. But Lucy knew its true value.

Perhaps she alone in the entire continent knew its secret.

She carefully removed the worn scabbard and ran her fingers along the blade. Though rusted and dull, it felt as though it reflected her very will.

“You stupid girl,” she muttered.

A bitter laugh escaped her.

All those years she had stayed by his side as his wife, yet she had neither brought him down nor managed to survive. Despite believing herself clever, everything had always ended in ruin.

She closed her eyes tightly as tears fell.

And yet she lifted the dagger once more.

“This time… this time really is the last.”

If another life only brought the same hell, then there was no meaning in it.

If a fourth life repeated the same fate, then she would throw the dagger away—and find eternal rest by his hand instead.

She closed her eyes.

Gripping the blade tightly, she thrust it into her chest.

Arsinöe was born as the fifth princess of the Kingdom of Parnass.

In truth, calling her a princess was misleading. The king already had six sons and four daughters. All of them were born of queen consorts and enjoyed the prestige of their mothers.

Lucy’s mother, however, had been a foreign slave offered to the king. Because of that, Lucy was treated as nothing more than an unwanted child of a concubine.

But her childhood was not unhappy.

Raised under her mother’s gentle care, she lived a peaceful early life.

Everything unraveled when a plague wiped out more than half of her siblings.

All five princes and four princesses died one after another, leaving Lucy as the only royal daughter remaining.

And, almost as if waiting for it, an imperial decree arrived.

In a time of political instability, the Empire proposed a marriage alliance under the guise of reconciliation between nations.

The Empire demanded a princess to become the crown prince’s third wife.

For a small kingdom like Parnass, there was no grounds to refuse.

And so Arsinöe, under the name of princess, was sold off to the Empire.

At first, she was even excited.

From a disregarded concubine’s daughter to a princess overnight, and then becoming the crown prince’s wife—there was no greater rise in status.

Even though she was only the third crown princess consort, Lucy in her first life had been, until her dying breath, somewhat happy in that role.

But as the same life repeated, happiness dulled.

Luxury and pleasure lasted only briefly. After being killed by the same man multiple times and waking up in the same place again, everything began to feel like a cycle she needed to escape.

Then came the first life, the second… the third…

And the fourth.

Once again, she returned to the same place and gasped for breath.

“Am I… alive?”

Lying in bed, she blinked blankly and slowly raised her hand.

Small, undeveloped fingers entered her vision. Her sight was unusually clear, and her body felt light as air.

Her hands began to tremble violently.

“…I’m back… I’ve come back again…!”

A childlike voice filled with shock rippled across the bed like a wave.