MFIMEH-03

Half a month ago, Lady Prisia, the wife of Grand Duke Requies, sent divorce papers to her husband, who was away on the battlefield subjugating demonic beasts.

Requies was located in the northern part of the continent, the region where demonic beasts appeared most frequently.
The current Emperor, Patous, had granted the title of Grand Duke and the territory of Requies to his half-brother Kyle. But in truth, it was no different from ordering him to spend the rest of his life dealing with demonic beasts until he died.

As always, Kyle was in the midst of wiping out a rampage of beasts that day.
The subjugation was going smoothly, just like any other time—

Until a carrier pigeon from the Requies Grand Ducal Castle arrived, bearing divorce papers.

Kyle stared blankly at the divorce documents.
Perhaps because he had already anticipated this, he felt neither surprise nor emotion.
So he simply stored the papers carefully to avoid creasing them.

Three days later, he completed the subjugation earlier than planned and returned home.
The castle’s staff came out to greet their master, who had once again achieved victory, just as always.

“Welcome back, Your Grace.”
“Where’s Prisia?”

The moment he stepped into the castle, he asked for his wife.
The elderly butler, who had managed the Requies estate for over 40 years, glanced behind and bowed his head.

“She’s in the garden.”

The Grand Duchess hadn’t come out to greet her husband upon his return.
The servants were visibly displeased by her behavior.
Kyle unfastened his armor and handed it to a servant before striding directly toward the garden.

Until Kyle’s arrival, the Grand Ducal Castle of Requies had been a ruin.
Thanks to him, it was transformed into a livable space, and it was only after Prisia came to live here through marriage that the place took on the appearance of an actual castle.
Prisia, as the Grand Duchess, never did anything carelessly.
She supported the Grand Duke with dedication and managed the castle and territory with the utmost care — as the Grand Duchess.
Always as the Grand Duchess.

Your Grace, the Grand Duchess, Your Ladyship.
She must have grown sick of hearing that title.

So thought Kyle as he ascended the stairs.
He had expanded the castle to create a garden just for Prisia, who loved flowers, and had installed magic stones to maintain it.
Thanks to that, even during the harsh winter, the garden was filled with the warm scent of flowers.

Soon, Kyle found his wife sitting in a chair, as though buried among the blooms.

“…Prisia.”

He softly called her name.

Prisia. Prisia Requies.

Once renowned as a great mage, she is now a pitiful woman withering away in the barren land of Requies, having lost all her magical power.

Prisia turned to her husband, her face even paler than before.
Her golden hair and skin so white it seemed almost translucent made her appear otherworldly.
Kyle swallowed dryly.
Perhaps it was the heavy scent of flowers, or maybe the suffocating atmosphere — his mind swayed.
He forced himself to focus and took out the divorce documents his wife had sent him.

“…I signed them.”
“…”
“They just need to be submitted.”

Prisia stared silently at the papers on the table.
Documents handled directly by the temple — the divorce papers she had sent.
She looked at them without any visible emotion and let out a faint breath.

“…Why aren’t you asking me anything?”

Her voice was slightly cracked, perhaps from a dry throat.
Kyle gazed at her hair for a moment, then finally spoke.

“You said you wanted a divorce.”
“…”
“It’s what you wanted.”

Kyle meant it.
He was being sincere.
But at those words, Prisia sharply raised her head.
Caught off guard by her sudden gaze, Kyle gasped.
Though subtle, her eyes were trembling with anger.

Why?
Why is she angry?

As Kyle wrestled with confusion, Prisia spoke again.

“Why don’t you resent me?”

Kyle couldn’t understand the question.

“…Why would I resent you?”

He answered with a puzzled expression.
He truly didn’t understand why she was asking that.
Then Prisia’s face darkened.

“Your Grace… have you ever loved me?”

In that instant, Kyle froze like a stone statue.
It was the first time he had ever heard that word from her lips.
He couldn’t understand why she was bringing up love here, now.
Staring at her with shaken eyes, he asked,

“…What are you saying?”

TL/N: HE’S SUCH AN ALOOF, NO LIKE FR!

ULTIMATE FACE SLAP.

At that, Prisia’s face was overtaken by despair.
She let out a hollow laugh, as if having lost even the tiniest bit of hope.

After silently laughing, she pressed her lips into a cold line.

“…Forgive me, Your Grace. I was being rude.”

With that, she stood.
Before Kyle could even collect himself, Prisia swiftly left the garden.
Kyle could only stand there, watching her retreating figure.
Amid the fully bloomed flowers, Prisia vanished in disarray.

That was the last conversation between the Grand Duke and Duchess of Requies.

A week passed.

Since then, Kyle and Prisia had neither dined together nor shared any time.
They simply lived in their separate spaces.
During that time, rumors began to spread among the servants — that the Grand Duke and Duchess were soon to be divorced.
Even the children doing chores in the kitchen spoke of it openly.

“Shh! I told you not to say things like that, Tony!”

The maids of Requies Grand Duchy tried to hush the rumors and let them die down.
But when the Grand Duke continued to eat alone in his study, and the tea times in the garden—once a mandatory form of couple’s interaction—became occasions attended by the Grand Duchess alone, there was no stopping it.

Eventually, Lulan, the head maid of the Requies Grand Duchy, who had been quietly observing everything, could no longer bear it and went to see Kyle.
But Kyle remained indifferent.
His life went on just the same, flowing forward as usual—unchanged and undisturbed.

Then one night—

Unable to sleep, Kyle left his bed.
It had been over a week since he and Prisia began sleeping in separate rooms.
Escaping the cold, lifeless bed, he threw on a robe and stepped outside.
The air was cold against his skin, and the moonlight dim.
Requies was deep in the throes of a brutal winter.
Even in summer, temperatures dropped below freezing, and winter was far worse.

But Kyle, unbothered by the cold, kept walking.
Wandering through the snow, he eventually stopped in the center of the castle garden.
There lay a large, deep lake.
A place that could easily become dangerous — Kyle had taken precautions to ensure its safety.
Sturdy fences and magical stones surrounded it securely.

Staring at the moonlight rippling on the lake, Kyle exhaled deeply.
His breath turned white in the air before fading.

And then —
Kyle spotted a shawl and a pair of small shoes.

They were Prisia’s.

Recognizing them instantly, Kyle blinked rapidly, grabbed the shoes and shawl, and lifted his head.

Something was rising from the center of the lake.

It was his wife, Prisia.

* * *

“I… did that, huh.”

Hee-ju was confused. The more she listened to Kyle’s explanation, the more dizzying it became.

‘Prisia took her own life?’

Prisia in the novel wasn’t someone who would commit suicide.
She always dreamed of the future and moved forward with resilience even in difficult circumstances.

‘It’s strange that she didn’t show herself at all for three years after breaking off the engagement with the Crown Prince.’

Prisia had never been fond of the engagement with the Crown Prince in the first place.
It had been something her father, Duke Zeltier, had forced upon her.

Then why had she stayed home and never stepped outside for three whole years?

It didn’t quite add up to say it was due to the shock of the broken engagement.
Deep in thought, Hee-ju looked at Kyle, who was sitting beside her with his head lowered.
From what she’d heard, their marriage hadn’t been particularly good.
But even if it had been a loveless marriage, witnessing your wife’s death up close must have been a huge shock.

‘Why did it have to be me, at this time…’

Her head began to ache. She had no idea what she was supposed to do.

“…Then, how should I address Your Highness?”
“Just call me Kyle. You used to, after all.”
“…Kyle.”

She was familiar with the name, as it was her favorite character in the novel,
but saying it out loud felt awkward.
Still, she had to get used to it.
Because right now, she was Prisia.

‘Could it really have been a coincidence that I entered the novel?’

Right before she woke up in the story, the house had been filled with water—as if Prisia had fallen into it.

‘It doesn’t feel like a coincidence.’

She didn’t know the reason, but the fact that she had entered the novel surely had something to do with Prisia.

If so, could she also access Prisia’s memories?

The ten-year gap was entirely Prisia’s memory, and Hee-ju knew nothing of it—
but considering everything that had happened, it wasn’t something she could completely ignore.

Either way, she was now Prisia.
She had to live Prisia’s life from now on.

Hee-ju looked quietly at her arm, which was dotted with red marks from repeatedly pinching herself.
She had tried everything under the blanket—pinching herself, all sorts of things.
She had hoped was a dream, but the pain told her it definitely wasn’t.

That fact, though it struck her with sudden fear and dread, left her with no choice but to accept the unavoidable situation.

‘Yeah. I have to do something, no matter what. First…let’s stop the divorce.’

That was Hee-ju’s wish.

She didn’t know what Prisia had truly thought.
Even if Prisia had genuinely wanted to divorce Kyle and end her life,
Hee-ju, who was now Prisia, had no intention of doing so.
Besides, if Prisia and Kyle divorced, she’d have to return to the horrible Duke’s household.
The thought of it was unbearable—sickening, even.

She had fought to survive.
She had risked everything with her life on the line.
So there was no reason she couldn’t survive here as well.

‘First, let’s retrieve Prisia’s memories.’

She didn’t know if it would be possible,
but to live in this place, she had to recover the lost memories of the real Prisia.
If she acted as Prisia, perhaps a miracle would occur and the real Prisia’s memories would return.

Hee-ju tightly shut her eyes. Then she repeated Prisia’s name over and over in her heart.

‘Prisia, Prisia…’

Hee-ju—no, Prisia—continued to recall that name.
Until it became more familiar, until she became Prisia—again and again.

* * * *

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