“Is it because you’re of common birth?”

I cast a sideways glance at Louis, who had raised his hand at me.

“Y-you dare!”

At that, nothing but pure fury remained on Louis’s face.

“If hitting me will make you feel better, then go ahead. Come on.”

I offered him my cheek, lightly tapping it with my index finger.

“Well? What are you waiting for? I said hit me.”

Perhaps this was a situation he’d never imagined.
Or perhaps he’d tried—and failed—to assert his authority as a husband.

His raised hand twitched uncertainly, as if torn between striking me or holding back.

“This is how you usually vent your anger, isn’t it? Crude and vulgar.”

Had I hit the mark?
Louis said nothing, merely grinding his teeth.

Then, all at once, he flew into a rage.

“Have you lost your mind? When have I—a man of refinement—ever done such a thing? What utter nonsense!”

Watching him sputter in indignation, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.
The way he strained so desperately to crush me beneath him was, frankly, childish beyond words.

“And everyone’s dying to sleep with me! They all say I’m the best!”

“Oh, yes. Yes.”

That’s just courtesy talking, you know.

“You loved it, too!”

That said, Louis’s words were starting to lose all coherence.
I’d pointed out his uncouth behavior, yet all he did was shout about how incredible he was in bed.

Did what I said earlier scratch at his pride that much?

Looking at him now, it seemed that idiot truly had nothing of substance to boast about.
All he could manage was empty nonsense about being the empire’s greatest virility king.

Had my past self’s over-the-top acting trapped him in some delusion?
The thought crossed my mind—then I dismissed it.

Because Louis’s belief that he was the world’s greatest lover wasn’t solely because of me.
Women who had clung to him, dazzled by his fabricated reputation and wealth, had all acted the same way I once did.

Those women—the ones called mistresses.

Given that, it wasn’t surprising that he couldn’t accept this easily and was flailing about.
And that was precisely what made it ridiculous.

“Miss Hursel.”

Instead of responding to Louis, I called out to Olivia, who was standing there blankly, blinking in silence.
Then I continued slowly.

“I only acted out of a sense of duty, because I was his wife. Wasn’t it the same for you, Miss Hursel?”

At my question, Olivia merely blinked.

“Let’s be honest with each other. We’re already sharing the same husband—what is there left to hide?”

“Well… I suppose that’s true.”

Olivia hesitated, then lowered her head.
That alone was enough to count as agreement.

How naïve.
I asked, and she actually responded?

They say people flock with their own kind—
and she truly was fitting for one of Louis’s mistresses.

“See, Louis? It wasn’t just my imagination.”

I withdrew my gaze from Olivia and smiled gently at Louis.
At that, he flailed, shouting at her not to say such embarrassing things.

Was he that desperate to keep running from reality?

“Oh, poor Louis.”

I gave his shoulder a light pat and walked back into the estate.
A moment later, I heard the sound of something shattering behind me, but I didn’t bother to look back.

No doubt Louis had lost his temper and was venting it on whatever he could find.
Something even a four-year-old child wouldn’t do.

Clicking my tongue, I headed quietly to my room.

A few days later, Olivia was thrown out of the estate—
without me needing to lift a finger.

It was earlier than in my previous life, which puzzled me slightly, but I couldn’t complain.
In this life, at least, I wouldn’t have blood on my hands.

“Now that Olivia’s gone, doesn’t it feel a bit empty?”

I asked calmly, taking a slow sip of tea.

“No. I never liked her. That kind of woman.”

Louis wore an expression of outright disgust.
And when had that changed? Just days ago, he’d been all over her, fawning as if he loved her to death.

In front of me, he’d acted as though it were a love to last a thousand years.
Such a fleeting thing, that love of his.

“She was nothing more than a disciple I took in.”

As he said that, Louis wrapped the word mistress in the guise of a student who had failed to learn properly.
It was laughable.

Over the countless lives that had repeated themselves, Louis had rolled around with many women in the marital bedroom I had personally furnished.
Olivia had merely been one of them.

Back then, blinded by jealousy, I’d resorted to any means necessary to dispose of Louis’s women.
I couldn’t even remember which life it had been—but there was one where I strangled Olivia to death.

When had it been?
Perhaps the time she ordered me around like a servant at a banquet, humiliating me in front of everyone.

Come to think of it, over the countless regressions, the number of people I strangled with my own hands easily reached the hundreds.
All in the name of punishing the vermin who dared steal Louis from me.

That was only possible back when I was madly obsessed with Louis.
Of course, now I’m mad in a different way.

“I only have you, Mia.”

I’d just been lost in thought, my hand resting on the table, when Louis suddenly grabbed it.
I immediately shook him off.

“Are you still sulking?”

Louis seemed to think I was pouting, but the truth was simply that I didn’t want to touch him.

“Here, take this and cheer up.”

Louis handed me the shoes.
The very pair that had been taken from me earlier had returned to my hands.

How petty of him.
He gives them to his beloved mistress, then hands them back to me—does he think that makes everything disappear?

“Mia. I think I’ve neglected you all this time. I’ve sent Olivia away, so from now on, I’ll focus on you alone.”

Louis spoke his lies with tears welling in his eyes.

Perhaps because I’d been betrayed so many times, I knew at a glance that it was nothing more than a pretty excuse.
Louis wasn’t doing this for me—he was angry that Olivia hadn’t denied my words.

No matter what anyone said, he was the empire’s greatest virile man!

The sight of Louis rambling on as though he were doing this for my sake, all to protect his wounded pride, was filthy and nauseating.
He’d never been someone who told the truth, so I hadn’t expected anything—but still.

It was unpleasant.

I deliberately let the shoes Louis handed me slip from my grasp.
One of them scattered across the floor and came to rest at my feet.

“Oh dear—be careful.”

Perhaps thinking I’d dropped them by accident, Louis hurried to pick them up.

“Honestly. Women are always so careless.”

As he said that, he bent down himself, reaching beneath the table toward my feet.

At that moment, I lifted my foot and pressed the heel of the shoe firmly down onto the back of Louis’s hand.

“Aaaagh!”

Louis let out a shrill scream, then tried to jerk his head up—only to slam his forehead straight into the edge of the table.

“Mia! Have you lost your mind? Can’t you watch what you’re doing? That hurts!”

Louis glared at me, his face flushed bright red, panting with rage.

“Oh my—how clumsy of me.”

I covered my mouth with one hand.

“I suppose it’s because I’m such a careless woman.”

Then I smiled sweetly.

***

Time flowed on like running water, and a week passed from the day of my regression.

In that single week alone, Louis brought thirty women into the estate.

Every day, he had no intention of leaving his bed, wallowing there like a debauchee.

And whenever a woman caught his fancy, he would start talking about casting me out of my position as his wife.
It seemed he wanted me to beg him in tears.

I didn’t care, either way.

Each time, Louis would shout at me to get out and hurl my belongings outside the estate.
Of course, it was all mere caprice.

He couldn’t abandon me.
Not yet.

My writing skills were still useful to him.

Indeed…
Will I be of use to you in this life as well?

I can say this with certainty:
the one who will bring Louis’s life to an end is me—Mia Branda Agatha.

Just imagining his final moments sent a thrill through me, and I let out a soft laugh.

“What are you grinning about like that?”

Even though I wasn’t smiling at him, Louis snapped viciously.

Watching him, I rolled the quill between my fingers, slowly studying the way he stood there at an angle.

Was my taste really that bad?

Even though Louis was draped in nothing but expensive things from head to toe, all of it looked strangely cheap on him.
Even the clothes he wore had been tailored specifically to fit his body by the designer himself.

And yet, to anyone looking on, he merely appeared bloated—
as though he were wearing clothes that didn’t suit him at all.