“Please…! Please spare me! I don’t know anything!”
Cordelia trembled violently, clasping her hands together in desperate prayer. Was it because of the cold, damp air of the underground prison? Her voice had grown hoarse from pleading for so long.
In the pitch-black cell, the man’s jet-black hair blended into the darkness, making him nearly invisible. Only his piercing, lion-like eyes glowed faintly as he looked down at her.
Kneeling on the ground, Cordelia clung to his trousers. The man crouched down and gently touched her tear-streaked face. Her pale skin, now smeared with tears and mucus, was a mess, but her ocean-like blue eyes still sparkled with beauty.
Her silver hair, as radiant as spun silk, seemed to glow even in the dim light of the prison, as though to emphasize how out of place she was in such a wretched environment.
“Cordelia.”
His voice was gentle, and for a fleeting moment, hope flickered in her heart.
Maybe he’ll spare her!
Cordelia frantically rubbed her face against his hand, trembling like an abandoned puppy. The man’s gaze briefly shifted to her frail hands clutching his trousers. Since being imprisoned, she had grown so thin that her bones were visible beneath her skin.
“…I swear I’ll never tell anyone! Whatever your goal is, I’ll—”
Before she could finish, the man grabbed her chin firmly and cut her off.
“Shut up.”
His cold words turned her mind blank. Then, with a single finger, he pushed her forehead, sending her sprawling backward.
“You’re no longer of any use.”
His voice was devoid of emotion, like a blade slicing through her last shred of hope.
“V-Vincent! Please, no!”
Ignoring her cries, he stood up, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. It was the very same handkerchief Cordelia had painstakingly embroidered stitch by stitch. He discarded it without hesitation, letting it fall to the dirty floor.
His adjutant stepped forward and bowed.
“What should we do with her, sir?”
“…Kill her.”
The curt order shattered her world. Cordelia’s eyes filled with despair as she watched Vincent’s back retreat into the darkness. Even as the cold steel of a blade approached her throat, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. She reached out toward him, but he was already too far away.
Twenty-five years old.
Still so young, yet that was how her life ended.
Her final moments were etched with the image of his back, the cold, unfeeling figure of her husband.
“Vincent…”
His name lingered in her mind as everything faded to black.
* * *
“Save me! Vincent!”
Cordelia bolted upright, kicking off the green blanket that had tangled around her legs. Sweat poured down her face.
The familiar scent of polished wood filled her nose. She was in her room, surrounded by the comforting sight of her own belongings. Four white curtains framed the bed where she sat, her chest heaving.
She looked down at her hands—smooth, soft, and unblemished. These weren’t the withered, skeletal hands she remembered from the prison.
“What? I’m… alive?”
A soft laugh broke her thoughts. Turning her head, she saw Mary, her maid, dusting the room. Mary, with her brown hair and warm brown eyes, was older than Cordelia.
Cordelia’s memories of Mary were filled with pain. Mary had once stood up to Vincent in a futile attempt to protect her and had been brutally killed before her eyes.
Mary approached with a clean towel and gently wiped the sweat from Cordelia’s face.
“My lady, you must really like Lord Vincent, dreaming about him like that.”
“What…?”
Mary smiled knowingly.
“Today’s the big day, after all. Congratulations on your wedding!”
“What?!”
Cordelia shot out of bed and stumbled to the ornate vanity across the room. In the mirror, she saw a young woman with long, silver hair cascading down to her hips and striking blue eyes.
Her face was radiant, her skin flawless—a stark contrast to the gaunt, hollow-eyed woman she had been in the prison.
“How old am I right now, Mary?”
The question wasn’t because she didn’t know. She needed confirmation.
Mary tilted her head in confusion before smiling again.
“You’re twenty, my lady. Oh, how time flies! It feels like just yesterday you were a little girl, and now you’re getting married!”
“Married…”
Cordelia’s mind reeled. She had returned to the past, to the day of her wedding.
Her husband-to-be was none other than General Vincent. With his raven-black hair and predator-like eyes, he was undeniably handsome.
But his beauty masked the truth: he was a devil on the battlefield, a man feared even by his allies. At just twenty-five, he had earned the nickname “the Demon of the Battlefield.”
The mere thought of Vincent made her body tremble. Noticing this, Mary asked, “My lady, are you cold? Shall I bring you some warm tea?”
It was spring, but Cordelia’s heart felt as cold as the dead of winter.
‘If it’s now… If it’s really now, maybe I can change everything. Even if it was just a dream, it felt too vivid to ignore!’
Still clad in her nightgown, Cordelia sat on the edge of her bed, lost in thought.
If today is the wedding day, then maybe I can run away later. If I don’t marry him, Vincent might give up on this family and its lands. Of course, knowing his personality, giving up wasn’t in his nature. But at the very least, she could escape his grasp and live her own life.
“Mary, when does the wedding start?”
“Well… it should be starting soon.”
As soon as Mary finished speaking, a group of maids bustled into the room. They swarmed Cordelia, selecting a dress, jewelry, and accessories, and styling her hair. In the blink of an eye, they had transformed her into a stunning bride.
The maids led her out of the room and toward the grand hall of the Count’s estate.
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kendrahf
Oh dear lord, please don’t let this dude be the ML. I hope to gawd it’s not one of those “your family wronged me so I took revenge, but I didn’t actually want to kill you, just scare you a bit” type deals where she learns of some betrayal and makes up with this dude. ಠ╭╮ಠ
Anyways, I’m here for it. LOL. d–(^ ‿ ^ )z