I closed my eyes tightly again. All I could see was darkness. I decided to pretend not to notice the presence lingering beside me. Because if I didn’t do so on purpose, it would be too distracting.

“You must be tired.”

He gently caressed my cheek. It was a careful touch, as if handling fragile porcelain.

I just stayed still.

‘Pretending to be affectionate.’

…when he was so indifferent until just recently. It seems that he, too, has changed a bit, though perhaps not as much as me.

In the original story, after Alisa’s death, Rashid began to consider her his first love. Judging by the passage of time, this should be right about when he would be having such thoughts.

Could it be that Rashid’s feelings are changing according to the original story’s fate even though Alisa didn’t die? That’s beyond my expectations.

“Hey, Rashid.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you decide to get married?”

I casually asked, as if it were nothing.

In fact, when he decided to get married, Alisa wasn’t me, and I wasn’t Alisa….

A silence lingered between us for a moment. It was so quiet that I could hear our breaths, which I wouldn’t have noticed normally. Though it was just a fleeting moment, time that felt like an eternity flowed over Rashid and me.

“It seemed like I had to.”

Rashid’s large hand brushed my forehead. It was warm. After a brief hesitation, I decided not to push his hand away.

“Why did it seem like you had to?”

“I guess I felt destiny with you, just like now.”

Impossible. He’s saying empty words. He’s spreading honey on his lips and melting sugar on his tongue as he spouts these hollow words.

“It’s because His Majesty the Emperor told you to, isn’t it?”

“Even so, that alone couldn’t have decided it.”

‘Lies. Does he think I’ll believe such words?’

Or perhaps he thinks that if I know a little, he can cover it up with sweet talk.

Everyone knows this marriage is a calculated, aristocratic union based on profit and loss, someone ordered and someone obeyed, yet he says such shameful things. It was deceptive.

How could Alisa marry Rashid?

She was merely nothing but a thoroughly exploited existence.

“Alisa, your marriage to His Grace Duke Penvernon has been decided.”
“My… marriage?”
“Yes! What joyous news!”

One day, an unexpected fortune visited the Count of Legentia’s house. The marriage of the young lady of the count’s family, Alisa, had been decided.

Father shook Alisa’s shoulders with eyes filled with elation. Alisa limply surrendered her body to his hands. Her slender body swayed like a wildflower in the wind. She couldn’t gauge for herself whether her marriage was a joyous occasion or not.

The Emperor had chosen Alisa Legentia as the wife of Duke Penvernon. She was a woman who perfectly fit the Emperor’s conditions.

Her family should be above the rank of count.

It should not be a vassal family of the five ducal houses.

Her family history should be deep and honorable.

But its current power should be insignificant.

Their wealth should also be lacking.

There should be no family members likely to prosper in the future.

The territory they own should be barren with no possibility of prosperity.

The daughter should be between twenty and twenty-five years old.

She should not be an illegitimate child.

She should not be particularly beautiful or intelligent.

The number of women who met these stringent conditions was extremely small. Should it be considered fortunate that Alisa was the only one who satisfied the Emperor?

Although Alisa didn’t know, she still did as everyone wished. Because her father, the Emperor, and Rashid had agreed to this marriage.

Her own will was never considered, but had her voice ever reached anyone’s ears in her life?

It was natural for the Emperor to recommend marriage to Duke Penvernon. Rashid was already in his mid-20s. The Emperor’s words that it was time to continue the family line seemed reasonable at first glance.

The Emperor introduced the young lady of the Count of Legentia as a potential bride to Rashid.

Since she was the count’s legitimate daughter, it wasn’t so unreasonable a proposal from the Emperor to be criticized. Their family had a deep history, so it carried its own honor, and while she wasn’t a dazzling beauty, she was reasonably pretty.

But it didn’t have to be her specifically.

It could have been anyone, as long as she was a suitable woman who met the Emperor’s conditions. Alisa was merely in the position of a marionette puppet controlled by the puppeteer’s hands.

‘In the end, anyone would have been fine.’

Rashid simply complied with the Emperor’s recommendation.

“Alisa.”

I pretended not to hear his call. I didn’t want to hear it.

If this moment were a scene from a dating simulation game, it would probably be an event that raises likability. A tender afternoon with the male protagonist. The moment when they honestly talk about how their relationship began.

But for me now, all of this was just reality.

I measure Rashid’s existence on the same level as mine. His body temperature, flesh and blood, breath, all announced that Rashid Penvernon truly existed in my world.

Rashid Penvernon is alive, here and now.

‘…Then what about me? Where am I alive?’

What kind of existence am I, really?

I’m not a person from the book, yet I exist in the world of the book, being in the book while knowing what’s outside of it. I was a strange being, to float around and not belong anywhere.

Rashid felt destiny with someone like me?

No, that’s not it. The one Rashid was destined with wasn’t me, but the real Alisa. His pitiful and sorrowful first love who disappeared into the Sehera River. Sand that slipped through his fingers. A mirage that turned into bubbles.

And the one Rashid will swear eternal love to is Priscilla.

I am no one, and my existence is not needed anywhere. In this world, I was nothing. Just a lost child wandering in a maze after taking a wrong turn.

So all of this…

Your answer about feeling it was destiny…

“Lies…”

…The wind was gentle. The temperature was just right. It was a weather too perfect for falling asleep.

Rashid created shade with his hand and closed my eyes. He erased the light from me and cast darkness.

Though it was midday, it felt like night. Light slowly burst from the inside of my eyelids. Like exploding stars, the light scattered. I started counting how many lights there were, but then I gave up.

And just like that, I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, I saw a familiar ceiling. It was my bedroom.

‘Huh…?’

My head was foggy. How long had I been asleep? When did I fall asleep…? I dozed off so suddenly that my memory was hazy.

I raised my body from lying down. The blanket that had been neatly covering me up to my neck became disheveled.

I quietly retraced my memories one by one, trying to find the starting point of my sleep. I was clearly resting under the shade of a tree in the garden, talking with Rashid, and then…

This can’t be, I have no memory. The film in my head was cut off right there.

What on earth happened?!

I hurriedly pulled the bell rope beside the bed to call Macy. With a jingling sound, Macy came running and stood at attention.

“Macy, how did I get to my bedroom?”

Maybe, could it be? No, it couldn’t be.

I looked at her with trembling eyes, hoping her answer would be different from my expectation.

Macy answered cheerfully with a bright smile.

“His Grace carried you himself, my lady.”

“I-I see. So that’s what happened.”

As expected, sad predictions never fail. I pulled up the blanket to cover my body while sweating profusely. Oh, come to think of it, the clothes I’m wearing now are not the chemise I was wearing earlier, but new pajamas.

I suddenly had an incredibly ominous feeling.

“Did you… change my clothes?”

“No, His Grace did that himself too.”

“…What?!”

I hurriedly lifted my clothes to check inside. The slip and underwear were still the same.

‘Phew, thank goodness.’

No, what am I saying!

“Why, why did you leave him to do that!”

“Well, when he saw the starch stains on the back of your chemise… he said it’s a husband’s duty to take care of his wife… and that he would do it himself. I’m sorry.”

Macy’s face darkened rapidly at my reaction. She seemed to think I was blaming her for making Rashid do the work.

“I’m not blaming you. I was just too surprised.”

It didn’t feel right to blame Macy anyway. When the Duke said he would do it, what more could Macy, let alone Harriet, have said?