Chapter 2
If only it had been a dream.
But Alaisia’s death had not been a dream. And this current reality—this wasn’t a dream either.
“…Isia. Alaisia!”
Sitting in front of a mirror, Alaisia flinched at the sharp voice calling her name.
She instinctively straightened her posture. Reflected in the mirror behind her was a middle-aged woman with silver hair twisted into a bun.
The moment their eyes met, the woman snapped harshly.
“Can’t you get your head on straight? We’re leaving for the Imperial Palace soon, and here you are daydreaming!”
“Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“And what could you possibly be thinking about?”
When Alaisia tried to explain, her stepmother Patricia sneered in mockery.
“I go through the trouble of helping you, and you don’t even show a shred of gratitude. You really are such a dull child. Sara, bring that here.”
“Yes, madam.”
At Patricia’s command, the maid Sara offered a tray lined with velvet. On it were fresh flowers and small diamond pins.
Patricia grumbled as she reached for the flowers.
“To think you fainted right before such an important marriage with the Imperial family. Do you know how worried I was that you wouldn’t get back up?”
Alaisia glanced sideways as Patricia picked out a purple flower, vibrant and full, though completely mismatched with her red hair.
“Even choosing a purple stock flower… It’s exactly the same. So this really isn’t a dream.”
Quietly, she clenched her skirt so no one would notice.
Everything was happening just as it had before—just as she remembered. Just like two years ago.
After the assassin Franz sent stabbed her in the heart, Alaisia woke up again.
It wasn’t a metaphorical return from death. Somehow, she had gone back in time—one week before the wedding.
At first, she couldn’t believe it.
But seeing everything unfold exactly as she remembered forced her to accept it.
She didn’t know the precise reason, but it seemed like the side effect of the life-risking curse she had cast.
“Don’t worry too much, Mother.”
“How can I not? You need to do well if our family is to survive.”
“Wait a moment.”
Alaisia lightly stopped Patricia’s hand as she moved to place the stock flower in her hair.
“I think a jewel would be better than a flower.”
“A flower is better than a tiny gem.”
“No, I prefer jewels.”
Patricia eyed her suspiciously. Her daughter had never shown interest in clothes or accessories, yet now insisted on a jewel. With a slight frown, she eventually gave in.
“Well, if you insist.”
Patricia pointed at the tiny diamond pins, and Sara moved to fix one into Alaisia’s hair.
Watching through the mirror, Alaisia wore a determined expression.
She had no choice but to marry the Second Prince for her family’s sake. Canceling a royal engagement at this stage was impossible.
But at least—she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
In her past life, Patricia had insisted on emphasizing the innocence of a countryside girl, so she wore fresh flowers in her hair as she headed for the palace.
By the time she arrived, the flowers had wilted.
So she had to meet Franz with faded blooms in her hair.
Waiting at the entrance, Franz had turned away in displeasure at the pitiful sight. He had ordered servants to escort her to the annex and vanished with an awkward voice.
And so, Alaisia was forced to head there alone, without his escort.
The bride-to-be was supposed to stay in the annex for a month before the wedding—a period meant to help her adjust to the palace and grow closer with her fiancé.
But Franz, disappointed by her appearance, never visited her once. Their first meeting face-to-face had been on the wedding day.
The first—and last.
“You look decent. The diamond’s a bit small, but passable.”
Once the hair was done, Patricia critically inspected her daughter.
Braided hair with volume on the sides glittered with the diamond pins, catching light from every angle like stars scattered across her hair.
“Thank you, Sara.”
Alaisia offered her maid a brief thanks and turned toward the bed where the dresses were laid out.
Patricia had chosen a dress overflowing with ruffles.
“Wear this. You need something this eye-catching for the palace.”
“The hair accessory is fancy enough.”
Alaisia firmly rejected her opinion and picked a simpler dress. Patricia looked horrified at the deep wine-colored velvet garment.
“You want to wear that drab thing to the palace? Absolutely not! You’ll disgrace our family!”
“I’ll be changing once I arrive anyway. It’s a three-hour carriage ride—something comfortable is better.”
“Still, you can’t! That dreary thing doesn’t even have lace! Are you out of your mind?”
“Sara, help me change.”
Ignoring Patricia’s dramatic protests, Alaisia called to her maid.
Sara hesitated, caught between the two. Alaisia, still in only her corset from starting with hair, lowered her gaze and calmly added:
“Or should I just go out like this?”
“Fine! Do as you please!”
With hands on her hips and flushed with anger, Patricia stormed out, slamming the door. Sara winced at the loud noise and asked cautiously,
“Are you sure? Madam seemed really upset.”
The reason Patricia insisted on overseeing Alaisia’s appearance was simple—so she could control her until the very last moment.
There was nothing to gain from being obedient.
“I’ll be fine.”
The cynical response shocked Sara, who paused while buttoning her dress. But before Alaisia turned to look, the maid resumed her work.
Servants had already noticed her change in attitude after she fainted.
And Alaisia didn’t try to act like her old self anymore. After returning from death, such efforts felt meaningless.
A new life should be lived differently.
Now that she had been given another chance, she wouldn’t waste it.
She would erase the regrets of her past.
She would no longer pine for Franz’s affection, or waste her life trying to please him.
Because that only ended in betrayal.
To Franz, she had been neither here nor there. Even in the palace, their paths likely wouldn’t cross. So all she needed was to live well—comfortably and freely—as the Crown Princess.
Alaisia had no lingering affection for Franz.
Her love had died with her final confession. Now, all that remained was hatred.
I wonder if my curse worked?
Frowning slightly, she adjusted her sleeve.
Suddenly, she was curious—had the curse she cast before death taken hold? The one wishing misfortune upon Franz, ensuring no one else could neutralize his mana.
If everything has truly reset, maybe the curse disappeared too.
But she had no intention of confirming it by approaching Franz.
Of course, she didn’t plan to fade away quietly either. That wouldn’t be fair.
Just wait, Franz. I’ll become the most useless Crown Princess you’ve ever seen.
She had no intention of neutralizing his mana again.
Whether the cold mana drove him mad or not—she didn’t care.
No, she wanted it.
If the princess, chosen solely to stabilize his power, turned out to be useless—how disappointed would Franz be?
She hoped that disappointment cut deep.
Though even this small revenge wouldn’t last. In two years, Franz would find a new lover to replace her.
But at least until then, he’d writhe in misery.
“You look like you’re going to a funeral.”
Dressed now, Alaisia stepped out to find Patricia back. It was clear she had returned only because Alaisia hadn’t come crawling to her.
“Since you’re leaving home today, I let you have your way this once, but I didn’t expect such stubbornness. How can you ignore your mother’s heart?”
She dabbed nonexistent tears, practically begging for Alaisia to soothe her pride.
Alaisia was hit with a familiar wave of exhaustion.
“Sorry. And since I’ll keep doing things like this, I’ll apologize in advance. I won’t be following your orders anymore.”
“What? Have you lost your mind?”
Patricia’s face twisted in disbelief. Alaisia gave a soft smile and shook her head.
“No. I’m perfectly fine. But if you send me another letter telling me to sneak into the Second Prince’s bedroom, or seduce him to earn Caleb’s title—I’ll be livid.”
“W-What vulgar nonsense! I’d never say that!”
“Exactly. So don’t contact me. And don’t expect a reply.”
“Alaisia Ambrose!”
“You should say ‘Alaisia Eustace,’ Mother.”
With a smile, Alaisia used the royal surname. Patricia, fuming, began fanning herself furiously and then burst into whining tears.
“I raised you without a father, gave you everything! How could you treat me like this? The late Baron would never forgive you…”
Letting her stepmother’s false grief wash over her, Alaisia picked up her shawl.
It would snow on the way to the palace. She needed something warm.
“Sara, get my gloves.”
“Yes, miss.”
“The thickest ones…”
“Young Miss! Madam!”
While ignoring Patricia’s wailing and finishing preparations, a knock came with urgent footsteps.
Still dabbing her dry eyes, Patricia shrieked.
“What is it?!”
“M-Madam! It’s…!”
The butler caught his breath as he looked between Alaisia and Patricia, then blurted out:
“His Highness, the Second Prince… has come to meet you!”
Alaisia sprang up.
“What?”
“He said he came to escort you himself!”
She was speechless.
In her previous life, Franz had waited for her at the palace.
But now… he had come all the way to House Ambrose.
