Chapter 4: Struggling to Break Free

As Bliss gradually awakened from her slumber, she gazed ahead through drowsy eyes.

‘I had such a strange dream.’

Good heavens – not only had she entered a novel, but she had nearly died. Though it puzzled her that wearing the necklace hadn’t killed her, she was still supposed to be the villain destined for death.

‘If only I could have been the female lead instead…’

Bliss blinked rapidly to focus her vision and surveyed her surroundings. Even with just a glance, she knew this wasn’t her room. Her expression darkened at the sight of the luxurious chamber and her reflection in the mirror. The world she had hoped was just a dream remained real, and she was still Bliss.

‘Am I destined to live out my days in this body?’

A precarious existence, never knowing when death might claim her. As she was about to sigh at her overwhelming circumstances, she instinctively closed her eyes when she sensed movement behind her. Caelan still lay in the same bed. Bliss feigned sleep, half-burying her face in the blanket while tracking his movements.

She could roughly gauge his position while he remained on the bed, but once his feet touched the carpet, pinpointing his location became impossible.

‘Where is he? Where did he go?’

Bliss strained her senses, trying to detect his presence. When his finger suddenly touched her forehead, she had to summon extraordinary willpower not to flinch.

She felt him sweep back the hair that had fallen across her face, his warm breath ghosting across her cheek. The proximity of his face made her breath catch in her throat. Just as she debated whether to open her eyes, the brief warmth vanished, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing.

“Haah.”

The moment Caelan left, Bliss released a deep sigh. His mere presence in the same space had made her whole body tense and breathing difficult.

‘How did I manage to fall asleep at all?’

The previous night, trapped in Caelan’s embrace with no means of escape, she must have drifted off at some point. Feeling the stiffness throughout her body, Bliss lay flat and stretched. After gently massaging her tired eyes with the back of her hand, she slowly opened them.

By all rights, she should have died yesterday. Yet here she was, very much alive, with no way to predict what would happen next.

“Will things continue like this without him killing me? No, the story can’t progress if I don’t die.”

Bliss’s death was meant to be the catalyst that brought the protagonists together – her continued existence would derail the entire narrative. She recalled the contents of the unfinished novel.

“The Moment Chance Becomes Destiny” chronicled how Caelan and Latte’s connection proved they were destined for each other. While she had once enjoyed reading about their chance encounters and inevitable attraction, those coincidences now seemed far-fetched.

First and foremost, Bliss had to disappear for them to connect. She abruptly sat up and climbed out of bed, pacing in place.

“Let me review the reason for my death.”

Bliss was the character whose existence led to the protagonists’ meeting.

Latte, the female lead, had originally been in marriage talks with Caelan. However, Bliss’s family’s interference had prevented that union. Despite Latte’s desperate desire for Caelan, Bliss had used him merely to satisfy her own desires rather than properly fulfilling her role in the family.

She had neglected her duties as a Marquis’s wife, indulged in excessive luxury, and disrupted the household’s order. Though only Caelan could have reined her in, he had merely observed her behavior, which had encouraged her to act even more freely.

“Then I died wearing the necklace he gave me…”

It had happened just once – the single instance when Caelan had shown her kindness and given her a gift. After Bliss died wearing that necklace, Caelan had become single again, allowing Latte to fill the void at his side.

“The problem is that I became Bliss.”

Being killed by her husband was tragic enough, but knowing it had all been orchestrated for Latte’s benefit made Bliss’s life seem even more pitiful. Perhaps she felt this way because she had become Bliss, but that wasn’t the core issue.

“I refuse to be used. I want to live.”

Even though this wasn’t her original world, she had no desire to die. Bliss studied her reflection in the mirror. If she couldn’t find a way back to her original self, she needed to establish herself here. She wanted a life lived purely for herself, not the precarious existence of a Marquis’s wife. Since their marriage hadn’t been founded on love anyway, she wanted to shed everything and pursue her own happiness.

“I’ll bring Latte into the picture and remove myself.”

But first, she had something crucial to do. Even if she managed to bring Latte in, her own presence would render it meaningless. She needed to end her relationship with Caelan.

“Divorce.”

It was the only solution she could think of. She needed to leave as soon as possible – this was her path to survival. Having made her decision, Bliss pulled the bell rope. A maid entered, clasped her hands, and bowed respectfully.

“I’ll prepare your washing water.”

A young maid with freckles dotting her face and brown hair neatly braided into a single plait stood before her. Bliss recognized her as the one who had attended to her bath yesterday.

After quietly studying her face, Bliss asked in a calm voice, “What’s your name?”

While it would have been ideal to remember the name just by looking at her face, Bliss had never been the type to memorize her maids’ names. Since minor characters’ names wouldn’t be listed in the novel anyway, she decided to ask directly.

“I-I’m Jackie,” the maid stammered, either startled by the question or frightened of Bliss herself. Just like yesterday, she nervously fidgeted with her skirt hem while watching for Bliss’s reaction. Recognizing this nervous habit, Bliss shook her head.

“You don’t need to be so tense. I only asked your name because I think I’ll need to call for you often.”

“Thank- no, I’m sorry, my lady.”

Jackie caught herself mid-thanks, hastily correcting her words. Though ‘sorry’ wasn’t any more appropriate, Bliss let it slide.

Noticing how Jackie avoided direct eye contact, Bliss asked, “Are you the only one attending to me?”

“No, my lady.” Jackie shook her head vigorously and gestured toward the door. “Everyone is waiting to respond immediately to your commands.”

When Bliss’s eyes narrowed, Jackie backed away and opened the door to prove her point. The maids and servants waiting outside startled before quickly bowing to Bliss.

Their hesitation to enter while carefully watching her reactions revealed exactly how they viewed the Marquis’s wife. Jackie seemed to be the youngest among them, which made Bliss wonder if she had been forced into this position.

‘This is going to be another problem.’

She already had numerous issues to deal with. Beyond her situation with Caelan, she needed to address the chaos Bliss had created within the Marquis household.

“Jackie,” Bliss called out in a deliberately gentle voice. Though she noticed Jackie’s shoulders flinch, she ignored it and took a seat at the vanity. “Would you style my hair first?”

“What? Yes.”

As Jackie hurried over and began arranging her hair, Bliss beckoned to the others waiting outside. Watching the maids enter, she gave instructions in the gentlest manner possible.

“Please prepare the washing water. Draw the curtains, and…”

The maids dispersed one by one according to her instructions. The remaining maid, tense as she awaited her turn, took a sharp breath when Bliss suddenly paused.

Despite noting the maid’s reaction, Bliss couldn’t continue immediately.

‘I should be able to write, right?’

As she recalled the novel’s contents, her memories gradually began flowing back. Assuming she could read and write, Bliss continued, “I need to send a letter to Count Bonita’s household. Please prepare for that.”

“Yes, my lady.”

As the last maid departed with her instructions, Bliss finally looked at herself in the vanity mirror. Without her having noticed, Jackie had skillfully gathered and tied her hair, presenting a neat reflection in the mirror.

“You’re quite skilled. Thank you, Jackie.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

Though Jackie appeared somewhat dazed by the praise, she no longer stammered. She must have noticed how different Bliss was acting while watching her interact with the other maids.

Aware of this, Bliss said nothing more and moved to sit at the nearby desk.

“Here you are.”

“Thank you.”

When Bliss expressed her gratitude again after receiving the writing paper, she noticed the other maids exchanging glances. They clearly found it strange that the Marquis’s wife, who had never shown appreciation before, was now freely offering thanks.

That was precisely why Bliss continued to thank them. Even though she wasn’t actively threatening them anymore, she knew their fear wouldn’t disappear overnight.

Accepting that changing her image would take time, Bliss smoothed out the writing paper.

What should she write? Though her purpose was clear, she couldn’t be too direct.

‘I need to meet and tell him I want a divorce.’

Worried the letter might be intercepted, Bliss chose her words carefully. She wrote about missing them since her marriage, then subtly wove in her main point by mentioning an urgent matter to discuss.

The letter’s effect was immediate. That evening, Count Bonita knocked on the Marquis household’s door.