Blink, blink.

Opening her eyes, Ellen stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment.

Then again, blink, blink.

‘Ah…’

After blinking for a while, clearing her groggy head, she finally came to her senses and unconsciously looked around.

The scenery was familiar.

Unless it was a place deliberately decorated to be identical, this was the Duchess’s room in the Krembell ducal residence she knew.

‘What’s going on, why…?’

She had clearly been in prison until just now.

She traced her last memory.

And then I was dragged out, and I—

“…Hah!”

Ellen breathed heavily as she felt her nape.

If she wasn’t crazy or hadn’t dreamed an impossible dream, her neck would surely have been cut off.

That grief. That anger.

Death, death, death.

Ellen touched her neck from behind to her throat, down to her beating chest with trembling hands.

She was fine.

Her gaze moved.

Arms. Legs.

All were fine.

Ellen quickly took a step.

Her hastily placed foot stumbled once, almost losing balance.

Her ankle stung a bit, but she couldn’t even believe that such pain existed.

As if it couldn’t be real, like someone who had lost their mind, she rose from her seat and stared straight ahead.

Reflected in the mirror was a lady with intact limbs, her neck in place, and a clean impression as if she had never endured any hardship.

It was Ellen herself.

* * *

Only after standing there blankly for a long while could Ellen properly come to her senses.

She looked around the room once more.

The familiar wallpaper, the familiar curtains.

The bedding, cabinets, table, even the carpet — all filled with things she couldn’t not know.

This was undoubtedly the Duchess’s room in the Krembell ducal residence.

‘What on earth is going on?’

Ellen couldn’t understand how she had ended up in such a strange situation.

It was strange that she was in this room, and it was strange that all her belongings were still here.

It doesn’t make sense for all the belongings of someone executed for treason to be preserved as they were.

Moreover, isn’t this the place where the one who directly ordered her execution resides as the head of the household?

Or more precisely, ‘had resided’, but in any case, the fact that this situation didn’t make sense remained the same.

It was then.

A certain object caught Ellen’s eye, whose thoughts had momentarily stopped at this absurd situation.

“Why is that vase here? That was certainly…”

A vase that her father, Count Crient, had personally gifted her.

On days when she felt the day had been arduous, she would rest her chin on her hand and stare at it absentmindedly — an object that had long since disappeared.

It had been quite a precious item, so she remembered it clearly.

“That had definitely been broken.”

Ellen recalled the memory of that day once more.

In this isolated place, it was an object that allowed her to reminisce about her family just by looking at it.

That’s why.

On the day when the vase, which had been sitting neatly in the center of the table, fell and broke, she truly couldn’t bear it anymore.

Dishes made with ingredients she had forbidden to be used kept being served. Her favorite dresses kept getting ruined by improper laundering.

‘All of her orders were disregarded.’

But she endured.

Because I’m an unfamiliar madam who came from outside.

Because Gillian was busy and couldn’t know the exact circumstances.

But—

[How careless were you that you even broke a vase that’s not even by a window but in the center of a table?]

[I’m sorry, Madam!]

[I can’t even count how many times you’ve said that ‘sorry’. I intend to deal with this matter severely, so keep that in mind.]

[Madam!]

But no sooner had these few words been exchanged than Gillian appeared from one side of the reception room, frowning.

[What’s all this commotion?]

[…This child made a mistake, and I was just inquiring about it.]

[It seems a vase has been broken. Go and bring out the Triasan porcelain. That should be up to standard.]

[But this is…]

[Are you not satisfied even with that? Then bring out whatever you want. Just make sure there’s no more loud noise in the mansion.]

In the end, as always, the authority of the lady of the house was nothing more than a gilded persimmon.

She couldn’t even properly punish someone.

“…But why is an object that had already disappeared back then here now?”

Really… perhaps, maybe.

Ellen swallowed hard once.

Though she thought it impossible, though she really thought it couldn’t be.

Anyway, the fact that she was opening her eyes like this right now was already an impossible thing, wasn’t it?

Ellen looked around again with coolly settled eyes.

Something that could tell her about the situation.

A calendar.

It’s open on February.

She immediately flipped to the very front page. Imperial Year 767 is marked.

A diary she occasionally wrote in.

She opened the last written page.

<January 28, 767. It snowed. It’s always a shame that although it snows quite a bit here, it’s hard to see a scene with snow piled up. Our castle was so beautiful on winter…>

It stops in January 767.

Letters exchanged with a close friend.

Likewise, the last one has a postmark from January 767.

She opened the envelope to check the contents.

<…Ellen, don’t attend without a partner, take even our house’s fool with you. It’s not that strange for close families to do so…>

The familiar handwriting of her friend.

And even her own noticeably younger appearance.

After pondering over the given clues for a long time, she finally reached a conclusion.

Now is Imperial Year 767.

The Ellen who has opened her eyes again is now in the spring of her twentieth year, when anything is possible.

* * *

Just because a miracle had occurred didn’t mean everything changed.

The Krembell mansion was still cold to Ellen.

Maids would come when called, but otherwise wouldn’t take the initiative to do anything until then.

Today, Ellen flopped onto the bed, self-deprecatingly thinking it was rather fortunate for that reason.

This was perhaps an opportunity.

An unexpected second chance.

She didn’t know the reason. But what mattered was the phenomenon.

In any case, she had a future that she absolutely could not accept, a person she could never forgive, and now she had been given a second chance at all of it.

Ellen engraved in her heart once more the curse she had been repeating until the moment she closed her eyes.

‘With everything I have, I will bring you despair and sorrow.’

So may you lose your throne, your honor, and even your position as a duke.

May you lose everything and fall into despair.

Something like a flame flickered in Ellen’s eyes.

A hue that breathed life into her eyes, like a fierce flame or the midday sun.

The first thing she’d do was already decided. It was just a matter of how to execute it.

She softly murmured the two syllables that made her heart flutter just thinking about them.

Her father, Count Daniel Crient, would surely oppose.

But he was a man who, while craving power, also had the aspect of a father.

Although there was no happiness in her married life, the Daniel in her memories was affectionate, blessing his daughter’s happiness and sorrowing at their parting.

Having recalled that far, Ellen made up her mind.

She would try confronting him head-on just once.

If it proved too difficult, she could always leave the ducal residence and plan from there.

Now she was truly someone who could do anything.

Ellen rang the bell in her bedroom.

Click. The door opened and a maid entered.

“Do you have any commands?”

A polite but cold greeting.

“Bring some water for washing, and some paper and a pen as well.”

As Ellen commanded, the maid bowed her head in greeting and left.

Soon, the items were brought to her bedroom.

Ellen immediately scribbled down what she wanted to write right there.

Her husband, Gillian Krembell, looked down on the Crients but knew very well that he needed their wealth.

This would be the last gift she left him here.

After elegantly signing her name at the bottom, she said in a refreshed voice,

“Well then, I should go now.”

Ellen left her bedroom with steps different from when she first woke up, full of strength.

* * *

Bang!

The door, which had never been treated so roughly since Gillian succeeded to the dukedom, opened with a rather harsh sound.

Gillian Krembell, the master of the Krembell duchy, slightly lifted his head to check the front.

The one who entered through the door was Ellen Krembell, his wife.

“……Are you out of your mind? It seems you’ve ignored all my advice to mind your manners.”

Gillian, who rebuked Ellen for her entry as if he found it pathetic, lowered his gaze back to the documents.

He expected an apology to follow naturally, but the words he awaited did not come even after a long pause.

Instead, his wife and the evidence of their financial support contract, Ellen Krembell, acted in a way completely different from his expectations.

“Of course, I am in my right mind. I remember those words as if they’ve formed calluses in my ears.”

“What on earth is this behavior? Aren’t you aware that you’re a member of the ducal family―”

Gillian’s brow furrowed at the rude remark.

He reflexively tried to say something to Ellen.

However, Ellen cut him off, speaking as if his words were irrelevant to her.

“……I don’t have it, nor do I plan to have it.”

She strode forward, slammed a few documents onto the desk, and spoke.

“Now, stamp it cleanly.”

Written at the top of the first page was a ‘Divorce Agreement.’

“You’re insane.”

Gillian muttered, genuinely dumbfounded.

A woman who once looked at him with such eyes, asking for a divorce?

Gillian chuckled.

For him, it was a situation he could easily dismiss.

To him, Ellen Krembell was always a woman who craved his affection and eventually calmed down with just one glance from him.

But now, the woman who decided to abandon the name Krembell was different from the Ellen Krembell he knew.

“Well, if that’s how you see it, then perhaps it is so. Then this is even more necessary.”

She had already lived one life, experienced failure, and was ultimately driven to death.

‘But now, at this point, do I care about something like that?’

Ellen felt a strange sensation, chuckling at how insignificant Gillian seemed.

Seeing this, Gillian’s eyes widened.

Instead of biting her lips painfully, she displayed such a sarcastic smile.

It was a shock, a novel feeling.

For a person to change so drastically, he thought there must be something he didn’t know about.

‘I can figure that out later.’

He spoke with eyes that seemed to look at a truly mad woman.

“……There are countless things to point out. Go inside and reflect on today’s actions. James!”

He called for the butler who managed his estate.

“Yes, Master.”

“Take this woman away. A week of confinement.”

“Yes.”

Gillian acted as if Ellen’s words were of no concern to him.

But Ellen remained calm.

This was her everyday life.

After witnessing something that didn’t deviate from expectations, it was hard to be surprised again.

“Confinement? That’s nonsense.”

Ellen spoke in a soft but clear voice.

“I have no desire to be part of the ducal estate, so I’ll leave myself.”