Barbara was the unexplored eastern frontier, an unknown land. Even the Emperor tried to conquer Barbara but ultimately failed due to the misty forests and mysterious magic. 

Some said fairies lived there, while others claimed sorcerers resided there. If this bracelet truly came from that Barbara…

“Wait, excuse me!”

Diana rushed into the tent and urgently called for the old woman. If she was an astrologer from Barbara, she might know whether Diana had truly regressed, and if so, why and how she was able to regress.

However, the old woman who had definitely entered the tent had vanished without a trace.

“What in the world…”

“Let’s go back for now.”

Calliope maintained his composure despite the blade-like headache and supported Diana by holding her shoulder. A strange silence hung between them throughout the carriage ride back, as both were thinking about that mysterious astrologer.

“Marquis, do you believe in strange things?”

“For example?”

“Like dead people awakening again, or legends about sl*ves being sucked into books and becoming nobles.”

“I don’t believe in them, but I’m not uninterested.”

“Ah…”

Diana nodded with a slightly disappointed expression. As expected. If she told Calliope about her situation now, he would surely break off the engagement, claiming she had lost her mind.

Keeping secrets alone was lonelier than she had thought.

“Still, I could nod along to anything you say.”

“Marquis, have you perhaps seen me before? Otherwise, this is only our second meeting…”

Before she could hear an answer, the carriage arrived. Calliope smoothly stepped down from the carriage and extended his hand to Diana.

As Diana grasped his large hand, a quiet voice flowed in like the wind.

“It might be the first time for you.”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind. Please go inside.”

That was all. However, Diana found it difficult to concentrate throughout the evening, even while removing her accessories and handling business in her room.

Revenge was naturally a life task that had to be accomplished, and the cause of regression was a mystery that absolutely had to be solved.

* * *

Diana’s worries continued even during dinner the evening before the memorial service. From Calliope’s death to her own regression—nothing could be accepted by common sense.

“Diana, are you listening to your father?”

“Yes. I heard that this memorial service will be jointly conducted by our family and the Aquitaine family.”

“The wedding will be held at the Grand Temple as soon as the memorial service ends. You should now step away from memorial service matters and focus entirely on wedding preparations.”

“Yes.”

Diana nibbled at the salad in front of her before putting down her fork. The bracelet on her wrist swayed gently with a soft chiming sound.

The Count looked at the bracelet on Diana’s wrist with quite pleased eyes before continuing his meal nonchalantly. Even though he pretended otherwise, father must have been concerned too. Even in arranged marriages, most were between people who had at least exchanged greetings at debutante balls or in social circles.

The Count seemed very pleased from the moment Calliope took the initiative to propose a meeting before marriage.

‘Father, I was killed by that Marquis family ten years from now.’

Diana smiled bitterly. The dinner conversation was all about war, day after day. Her brothers’ eyes sparkled whenever the Aquitaine family was mentioned.

Among those who wielded swords, the most frequently mentioned figures were Duke Scar and Marquis Aquitaine. Listening while wiping her mouth with a napkin, it seemed the Emperor was planning to destroy another country as a gift for the Princess’s birthday.

Why were her brothers so excited about a war without cause, regardless of victory or defeat?

‘That’s not what’s important.’

Diana knew the horrors of war. The Aquitaine family she had lived with was a place where blood never dried from their hands.

Three families were responsible for guarding the borders. The Scar Duke family in charge of the northeast, the Aquitaine Marquis family in charge of the northwest, and the Amphion Marquis family in charge of the southeast.

The western territories under Marquis Aquitaine’s charge were filled with barren deserts and treacherous rocky cliffs. In one way, it was a majestic and dignified place, but from another perspective, it was too harsh for human habitation.

Therefore, twice a year, they cultivated their territory by selling spoils from massive monster subjugations. In the process, countless knights and mercenaries died.

Moreover, the Emperor’s reasons for waging war were absurdly ridiculous.

“So how many of our knights will be drafted this time?”

“Well, Paenna has weak military power, so sending about thirty should suffice.”

“May I go too? I must stake the honor of the Cloud family and…”

“Brother, you seem to play chess too often.”

Cold water was suddenly poured over the heated conversation. Her brother and younger brother’s faces went blank in an instant. Only the Count among them looked quite interested.

“Diana, what do you mean by that?”

Bern Cloud, two years older than Diana, asked irritably. As the heir, he was quite jealous of Diana, the eldest daughter who was superior to him.

Diana elegantly lifted her wine glass and smiled sweetly—the smile Bern hated most.

“What moves in war are humans, not chess pieces. You seem to have forgotten.”

“Are you acting like this because you’re going to the Marquis’s castle soon? You don’t know the first thing about war, but just because you held a sword a bit in childhood, you want to show off—not a chance!”

Bern shouted fiercely and glared at Diana. Oh, really. Anyone listening would think he had combat experience.

Bern had joined the knight order because he was the heir, but he had no actual experience in war. Rather, before regression, Diana had experienced several battles while fighting against monsters or enemies who attempted invasions when Calliope was away.

Back then, she couldn’t step forward confidently because wielding a sword was considered shameful for a woman. If only she had been a little more confident in herself and a little more bold, perhaps there would have been no need to regress.

What tormented Diana most after the war ended was none other than guilt—strangling her breath and cruelly stabbing her heart.

“War isn’t experienced only by soldiers. Their families and friends all experience it too. A knight from our family died in this very war. So wouldn’t I also be someone who has experienced war?”

After finishing her words, Diana leisurely sipped her wine. Bern looked down at her with arrogant eyes and sneered.

“That’s sophistry. You’ve ruined the dinner atmosphere because of you. Hurry and apologize to father.”

“Father, what is our army being drafted for this time? Every time Her Imperial Highness’s birthday approaches, a country with deep history disappears. If we’re invading Paenna, I suppose gems are the goal this time.”

“Yes, you’re right, Diana. I wish we could spare the troops, but His Imperial Majesty has commanded it.”

“How about sending more military supplies while minimizing the troops?”

“Why do you think so?”

“I’ve heard Paenna is a peaceful and wealthy nation from gem exports. Their military power is correspondingly weak. But their patriotism is stronger than any neighboring country, so wouldn’t the resistance be fiercer? In my view, even if we win this war, it would be hard to call it a victory.”

The Count narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin. He seemed pleased with Diana’s answer. Only Bern couldn’t hide his resentful feelings and kept glaring at Diana—looking ready to k*ll someone with his eyes alone.

“Diana, you seem to foresee future moves. Or do you?”

“I’m not a prophet—how could I dare foresee undetermined time?”

Despite her cheeky words, Diana wasn’t just foreseeing—she was someone who had lived ten years in the future. Over ten years, the Empire had greatly declined.

That’s why Calliope’s absences from the castle became even more frequent. The Empire was in turmoil due to the appearance of giant monsters and independence wars in the colonies.

The country that unified the small nations and stood at the center was Paenna—specifically, Paenna’s sole surviving princess, Eleonora. The Scar Duke family was the most necessary force when Diana would enter the Marquis family and confront the Grand Duchess.

The former Marquis’s wife, who had established her position and built power in social circles, was stronger and more vicious than expected. To suppress such a woman required an equally large card—at least someone who would shake the Empire in the future.

Diana’s lips, hidden behind her wine glass, curved smoothly upward. Yes, a fallen princess maneuvering within the great Scar Duke family—that was what was needed.

* * *

After dinner ended, Diana hurried up to her bedroom. Otherwise, Bern would surely come looking for her, ranting about settling things with swords.

Stepping onto the circular balcony, a cool breeze blew. Diana tucked her flowing hair behind her ears and quietly felt the incoming wind.

Her dying body was still vivid in memory. Sinking beneath that piercingly blue lake, how much she had longed for him and how much she had resented him.

“God must have granted my wish.”

Diana murmured. Her pale green eyes took in the scenery of the territory. Yes, it must be fortune bestowed by a pitying god. It was such a rare and miraculous event that she had no choice but to believe it.

‘I should visit the temple separately after the wedding.’

She should go offer prayers of gratitude. As Diana was about to close her eyes while feeling more of the breeze, she heard the rattling sound of a cart.

Looking down, she saw several knights carrying torches. Even late at night, the knights were preparing their friend’s funeral. The faces revealed under the torchlight were dark.

War was never something one could get used to.

‘Did Calliope also become that dark?’

Diana watched the knights with similarly darkened eyes before turning away from the balcony. The memorial service would begin at dawn tomorrow, so she needed to get some sleep, even briefly.

* * *

Thick fog had settled over the Count’s manor since dawn, like the sky itself was mourning their funeral. Everyone’s expressions were solemn and sorrowful.

The iron gate of the Count’s manor opened, and nobles opposed to the current Emperor’s tyranny arrived one after another. Politics was something that utilized even the death of loved ones.

For nobles, memorial services weren’t places of mourning—they were places to confirm one’s power, if anything. It was common sense to hold a memorial when a knight died in one’s territory.

However, nobles didn’t properly honor the dead once, too busy watching the Emperor’s mood. They feared the tyrannical Emperor might draw his sword, suspecting them of harboring resentment against his wars of conquest.

But when Count Cloud, one of the representatives of the Emperor’s faction, held a memorial service, it was enough to attract the attention of the anti-Emperor faction.