Episode 93

Another problem?

Rosalind’s expression was stiff, and Igon’s face didn’t look any better. Whatever they were about to say clearly involved me, but I couldn’t begin to guess what this ominous prelude was leading to.

Was Eunice reading the book such a grave matter?

I had read a book to learn about this world. When I first explained my past life and the “original story” I had read, Rosalind hadn’t reacted this way. On the contrary, she had reassured me, saying that there were other cases of people remembering their past lives and forming connections to their current ones.

So what made Eunice so different? Why was Rosalind now claiming that this was a problem?

“It’s not unusual for people to retain memories,” Rosalind began. “Especially after that one meddled with the flow of time. Ever since, the number of people recalling past lives has increased significantly.”

She glanced briefly at Igon before continuing.
“Of course, even before that one appeared, there were records of such cases. So it’s not exactly unheard of.”

But.
That conjunction hung in the air like a storm cloud, intensifying my unease.

“The strange part is that Eunice Durant read that book not in her past life, but in this one. And its contents were… unusual. Did you know that book almost got you killed?”

What?

My brows furrowed. Was she implying that my destined death had been caused by the book?

“She nearly died before she even met His Grace,” Rosalind added.

What is this supposed to mean?

The words coming at me were incomprehensible. I couldn’t even tell what kind of expression I was wearing anymore.

Fear gripped me before confusion could settle. It felt as though the specter of my death, which I thought I had narrowly escaped, was once again looming over me.

A warm sensation on my hand brought me back. Turning, I saw Igon.

“….”

His large hand gently covered mine, its warmth and weight grounding me. It gave me a sense of stability, a reminder that I wasn’t alone.

I interlaced my fingers with his and let out a deep breath, feeling clarity return as blood circulated through my head again.

Rosalind, having observed me silently, resumed speaking.
“This discussion is going to take some time.”

She looked between Igon and Liam, who was listening attentively.
“The two of you can leave for now. You’ve already heard most of this.”

Rosalind dismissed them with a calm but firm tone.

Liam stood without hesitation, but Igon couldn’t hide his discomfort. His reluctance was evident in the slight crease of his brow as he remained seated.

His expression practically screamed, “Why should I?”

Though I felt more at ease with Igon around, I knew it would be better to speak with Rosalind alone to have an open conversation. I lightly tapped the back of Igon’s hand, urging him.

Igon silently studied my face, his worry evident.
“…Will you be okay?”

When I nodded, he hesitated briefly before leaving the room.

Once Igon was gone, Rosalind stretched her arms, clearly relieved to be free from the awkward posture she’d maintained earlier.
“Phew… Now, let’s continue. In the book Durant read, she dies.”

What?

Forget Eunice dying for a moment—how did Rosalind even know the contents of the book? Didn’t Eunice say the protagonist of her book was Igon?

As I reached for paper to jot down my question, Rosalind spoke as though she could already predict it.
“There were things Eunice left out when she talked to you about the story.”

She added, “We spoke yesterday evening,” before continuing.
“Anyway, here’s what matters: Durant dies, but instead, her play servant survives.”

Play servant?

I racked my brain, but I couldn’t recall anything about that in the original story I had read.

What do I even know anymore?

A sense of helplessness made me clench my fists involuntarily.

“A story where a servant disguises herself as her lady to seek revenge? That’s a common trope in novels. The problem is, this novel used the names of real people.” Rosalind gestured toward Igon’s desk.
“And the bigger issue? The person involved read it.” She pointed at the door, emphasizing her words.

“What do you think a young Durant would have done after reading that?” she asked.

I shook my head. Eunice had told me she thought a story was just a story.

This is all news to me.

What Rosalind said next, however, was deeply unsettling.
“She found the girl who would become her play servant and killed her before she ever set foot in the Count’s manor.”

I struggled to maintain composure. It wasn’t me who died—it was Eunice’s play servant.

“She didn’t do it intentionally. She didn’t even know what she was doing. All Durant did was tell her father about the story she read.”

But as a result, not only did her play servant die, Igon did too. Count Durant poisoned the young heir of the Duke’s household.

But Igon is alive now.

“Because that was Eunice Durant’s previous life,” Rosalind explained.

I had my suspicions, but… I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to process it all.

“With no one to intervene, Ash’s plan succeeded faster than it should have, and Eunice Durant died before she even came of age. Then, everything reset.” Rosalind twirled her finger in the air as if illustrating the loop.

She gestured to a sheet of paper on the table.

I picked it up and held a pen, ready to write.

“The Eunice Durant who returned realized that even if the Duke disappeared, her death was inevitable. So she decided on a different course of action—befriending the Duke instead of telling her father.”

I paused, processing her words, before jotting down my next question and handing it to her.

‘Was I the play servant?’

The thought had been creeping into my mind for a while now. It was an unsettling feeling, something I wouldn’t have experienced if I weren’t connected to the play servant in some way.

Rosalind didn’t deny it.

“…That’s my guess. Eunice Durant likely suspects the same thing, but it’s not definitive. In both her past and present lives, everything she knows about the play servant comes from that book.”

In other words, she’d never actually seen the servant.

Suddenly, everything started to make sense. Eunice Durant’s interest in Igon and me, the apologetic words scrawled on the walls of the Duke’s estate, her excessive guilt toward me, and her inability to truly resent Igon despite knowing he had killed her father—they were all because of her memories from her previous life.

‘But what does Eunice remembering her past life have to do with me being a problem?’

Before I could finish writing the question, Rosalind spoke again.
“She read the book again after returning. The physicalized version of it. But this time, the story had changed. It only mentioned Duke Rodore, with no mention of the play servant at all.”

What does that mean?

I shook my head, unable to grasp the implications.

“It means you’re not necessary anymore,” Rosalind said flatly.

It felt as though someone had grabbed me by the hair and shaken me. I took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm my spiraling emotions.

“You said you came from another world, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“This world sees you as a foreign object—an anomaly. Something that doesn’t fit within the framework of its completed story.”

Despite Rosalind’s explanation, the solution remained elusive.

“You’ve become like Ash,” she said.

Oh.

A chill ran down my spine, prickling my skin.

“You need to establish roots here, take on a formal identity. If the divine forces decide to eliminate you, there’s nothing you can do.”

I slowly thought back over my life. My biological parents in this world hadn’t even bothered to give me a proper name. They referred to me by my order of birth. The name I eventually received wasn’t mine to begin with.

And now…

‘I’m in someone else’s body.’

It made sense that I’d be seen as an anomaly.

It was a bleak realization. How many times had my life been in danger? How many times had I skirted the edge of death?

‘I just want to live in peace.’

It felt as though I was sinking, a weight tied to my ankle. No matter how hard I flailed, I only sank deeper.

“Snap out of it. You’re not dead yet. You’ve been fine so far, haven’t you?”

She was right.

I clung to hopeful thoughts, and the first one that came to mind was Igon.

“Duke Rodore seems intent on making you the Duchess,” Rosalind remarked.

Oh, right.

I quickly picked up my pen and wrote, ‘If I become the Duchess and take my place in the Duke’s family registry, wouldn’t that help me establish roots here?’

“Maybe,” Rosalind replied, her tone skeptical.

We debated various possibilities for a long time, the light at our feet deepening as the sun began to set.

“It’s almost evening,” Rosalind said, rising from her seat as she gazed at the fading sunlight. “I’m starving. Let’s wrap this up.”

As we left the room, I turned to head in the opposite direction from Rosalind, but she grabbed my arm.

“Don’t even think about locking yourself in your room and sulking,” she said.

Having spent enough time with me, she seemed to know exactly how I behaved when I was upset.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

She gently tugged at my hand. Though her grip wasn’t exactly soft, the warmth in her touch was overwhelmingly kind. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

I hadn’t realized how deeply moving it was to know someone cared about me.

‘Why can’t relationships with people become my roots in this world?’

The thought struck me suddenly.

As we descended to the dining room, it was clear Igon had anticipated this moment. The staff directed us to the table Igon usually used, and food was served promptly, featuring many of my favorite dishes.

Not long after, Igon entered the dining room. He seemed to have been informed of our arrival. Walking straight toward me, he glanced at my plate, brushed back a strand of my hair, and then took a seat.

“Did the conversation go well?” he asked.

I nodded. Well, as well as it could have gone, considering I’d just learned that I might die and hadn’t yet found a way to avoid it.

“Don’t worry,” Igon said with a faint smile.

I couldn’t speak, but I mouthed a silent thank you in response to his comforting expression.

When I glanced over, I noticed Rosalind staring at Igon with her mouth slightly open. She blinked slowly, closing her eyes briefly, then shook her head in disbelief.

Sensing her gaze, Igon turned to look at her.
“Until we find a solution…”

“Yes, I’ll stay here at the Duke’s estate,” Rosalind interjected before he could finish.

“Good,” Igon replied plainly.

Rosalind, however, looked utterly taken aback. She lifted her bowed head abruptly, her expression filled with surprise as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

“I apologize, Your Grace. I must have misheard. Could you repeat that again?” she asked, her voice incredulous.

“Is there something wrong with your hearing? We’re sitting close enough for you to have heard perfectly well,” Igon replied in his usual detached tone.

Their exchange was so unexpectedly amusing that I couldn’t help but laugh softly. For the first time in a while, I felt oddly lighthearted, as though a small weight had lifted from my chest.

 

 

 

 

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