Chapter 3
“So that’s how it was.”
I murmured to myself, standing in front of the mirror.
My gaze flickered between the calendar on the desk and the mirror, finally resting on the reflection of my face.
Glossy jet-black hair, a fair face that contrasted starkly with it, and the deep green eyes unique to the Apellemeon Ducal family.
“I really did have it all, didn’t I?”
Lying frail in bed for so long, I had nearly forgotten my own face, my noble status. For the first time in a long while, I realized—yes, I had been beautiful.
In the original novel, before Grace possessed me, in my first life, I became one of the wealthiest individuals on the continent.
Though I hadn’t been cursed by the Evil God then, I left the capital and lived in solitude, distancing myself from everyone except a few friends. Still, I had no regrets.
‘But the second life was completely ruined, thanks to Grace.’
So this must be my third life.
I was once again a grand noble of the Empire. That meant I had been given a chance to live life over again.
My heart pounded and dozens of thoughts swirled in my head.
I could change everything.
But what exactly should I change?
Live out the first life again? That wasn’t an option. Whatever the reason, this world had summoned Grace.
I knew this because I had studied mana stones in a previous life. Even if you rewound time with the power of mana stones, those who had once belonged to a timeline wouldn’t just vanish. The flow of dimensions was separate from time.
Grace would return. No—she might already be here.
Besides, in the first life, I had seen the Empire destroyed under the curse of the Evil God. After the 2nd prince Balthazar took over as heir, the world descended into chaos.
Though I survived, many had not. If that future could be avoided, I wanted to avoid it.
As that thought occurred to me, one man’s face flashed through my mind.
The man who had died in the first life without ever meeting me.
The man who, in the second life, had sought me out and said something I would never forget:
“I hope you get to live a life worth living.”
The First Prince, Carsiel Paranas.
Glancing at the calendar and doing some calculations, I let out a breath of relief almost instinctively.
He was alive.
The Empire’s future was still alive.
The chaos in my mind suddenly settled into clarity.
There were three things I had to do.
Save Carsiel.
Stop the curse of the Evil God.
And deal with Grace.
I still didn’t know exactly how to deal with her, so for now, I made a primitive plan—throw her to the monsters and let them have her. Plans are meant to be revised later anyway.
Just as I was having these violent thoughts, a voice full of annoyance echoed near my ear.
“Young Lady, this is all we have for breakfast. Eat it if you want, and stay in your room if you can.”
Ah, right. Another thing I had nearly forgotten resurfaced.
Around age eighteen, this mansion had been taken over by a distant relative, Julius, and his family.
“Please don’t just show up in the dining room without notice like last time. You put me in a difficult spot.”
Thanks to that, my room was always cold and dark. The servants, well aware that Julius held the real power, treated me like a nuisance. Most of them had come from Julius’s main house, so that made it worse.
Thud—
The bread the maid placed on the table as if throwing it down was so hard it might have gone stale. It looked like something scavenged from the kitchen.
I squinted and studied the maid. She looked around my age, had a pretty face, and always wore a sullen expression like life had nothing interesting to offer.
What was her name again?
“Mara?”
“Sigh…”
The maid frowned and looked at me.
“Are you doing this on purpose? Just to annoy me? Don’t you think it’s a bit childish?”
Ah, her furrowed brow jogged my memory.
“Sorry, Mari.”
Mari, who had been roughly wiping the floor, gave a curt nod, as if letting it slide just this once.
“Today is an important day, so I’m busy too. Just eat that and try not to call me.”
“What’s today?”
She didn’t even look at me and answered brusquely.
“I told you yesterday. Did you forget? Today is—”
Before Mari could finish her sentence, a lilting voice came from outside the open door.
“Today is the day of the Imperial ball. Not that it has anything to do with you.”
Mari quickly straightened up, her face tense.
Both she and I turned toward the source of the voice.
Standing at the doorway were a young man and woman, probably around twenty, with similar appearances—thick brown hair, upturned eyebrows, amber eyes, and overly flashy, somewhat gaudy clothes.
I recognized them instantly.
“Bartol. Demeira.”
When I called their names, Julius’s children smirked in unison.
“You look sour. Did my words upset you?”
Demeira, who had interrupted Mari earlier, asked with arms crossed.
“Of course not.”
“Well, too bad if they did. It’s the truth. Only those who are invited can attend the ball, and no one invited you.”
She giggled, spinning in place as she spoke.
I frowned. I had almost forgotten, but Demeira had always had a nasty habit of picking fights with me.
Right after Julius’s family took over the mansion five years ago, she used to act sweet like a real sister. Then, one day, she suddenly turned hostile.
“You were invited?”
“Obviously.”
She replied instantly, as if she had been waiting for me to ask.
“The invitation came addressed to the head of the household, and since my father is the acting head, he gave it to me and Bartol. Father and Mother went to the Fenton estate, but we—”
“Your father isn’t the head of House Apellemeon.”
I cut in dryly. I remembered having similar arguments with her in past lives.
If the invitation came from the Imperial Palace, it was meant for House Apellemeon, not House Fenton.
“He’s the acting head.”
“Stop with the useless justifications. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”
Demeira’s smile vanished as I said something she didn’t want to hear.
“You still think you’re the Young Lady of this house.”
“…”
“A so-called duchess in name only. Destined to be locked away in this tiny room forever. You’ve been clinging to a fantasy for five years, you deluded noble brat.”
She sneered at me. It was a childish taunt I had heard often in past lives, and I instinctively gave a cold laugh. I knew exactly what was going on in her head.
“Meanwhile, you’re preparing a dowry with this house’s money to marry into a good family?”
Her brow twitched.
“Father is the only adult of the ducal family! Managing the estate is naturally his right. As his daughter, I obviously—”
“We’ll see.”
I smiled. She was so transparent it was laughable. And now, with the memories of my past lives, she was even easier to deal with.
“I don’t think Viscount Anthony Morin would agree with you.”
“…What?”
“How many times has he rejected you now? Four?”
I asked, pretending to recall. Demeira’s face turned ashen.
“The rumors have spread so far even I heard them. You wrote him dozens of letters, didn’t you? Never got a single reply.”
Anthony Morin was a well-known bachelor from a solid noble family. Handsome and skilled at horseback riding, he was quite popular.
He was also the object of Demeira’s years-long unrequited love.
In my past memories, she never succeeded. Seven rejections in the first life, six in the second.
If I remembered correctly, a few months ago, she had been publicly humiliated at Anthony’s birthday party.
He’d used fancy words, but the meaning was clear—since her father had no formal title, her social standing didn’t meet his standards.
And the fact that Anthony wasn’t attracted to her didn’t help. He toyed with her, accepted expensive gifts, then rejected her cruelly when it mattered.
Demeira’s eyes turned red as I spoke.
She stomped forward, grabbed the stale bread from my plate, and threw it to the ground.
Clink—
“No breakfast for you today. Pick that up if you’re hungry. And…”
Not satisfied, she reached for the cup of water nearby.
“Demeira, I’m warning you. Put that down.”
“Don’t order me around!”
Angrier now, she ignored my warning and dumped the entire cup over my head.
Splash—
Before I could react, cold water ran down my hair, shoulders, neck, and inside my nightclothes.
Mari flinched visibly as she saw the wet sheets.
“You won’t fight back, even after all this, will you?”
Demeira murmured coldly, watching the water trickle down my face.
“No one here will take your side. Everyone is my father’s.”
“…”
“So just accept it already! That I’m above you in this house!”
She declared, full of conviction.
Some things never change.
Five years ago or now, Demeira only wanted one thing—to be officially acknowledged.
She believed that if she could force me, the official Young Lady of Apellemeon, to admit that she was more noble, she could win over Anthony Morin and everyone else.
“Or should I take you to the stables again and dunk your head in the horse’s water like last time? You really put on a show back then.”
At first, she tried to befriend me. When that failed, she turned to threats, violence, and mockery—the strategies that worked better.
She might have her reasons, but I had no intention of enduring them again.
In my first life, I eventually gave in to the Julius family’s abuse. Though I escaped later, the trauma never left me.
In my second life, I avoided them thanks to the Evil God’s curse, but not without suffering first.
So this time, I’d deal with them differently.
Smack—
My hand moved like lightning, and Demeira’s head snapped to the side.
The room fell silent. Mari and Demeira froze, eyes wide.
“You… did you just hit me? How dare—”
Smack—
I didn’t answer. I just slapped her again, the other cheek this time.
“I warned you. To put the cup down.”
My calm tone seemed to shock her even more. She looked like she couldn’t believe someone like her—never even hit by her own parents—was treated this way.
“I… I won’t let this go. I’ll call the servants right now and have you—”
“Go ahead. Then I’ll—”
