Chapter 3
I was so dumbfounded I couldn’t even speak properly.
They cursed my mother and me, caused all this—and now they were throwing a party?
And in a place filled with white chrysanthemums—the same flowers used for funerals?
“Priest. Is there a White Chrysanthemum Garden in the Empress’s palace? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”
I forced down my anger and asked. The priest answered awkwardly.
“W-well… it’s originally a white rose garden, but the chrysanthemums Her Majesty ordered just happened to arrive today…”
“…Ha.”
I clenched my fist tightly.
Was it really a coincidence that the Empress was holding a chrysanthemum party on the very day that would become my mother’s death anniversary?
To fill an entire rose garden with chrysanthemums, she would have had to order them at least a week in advance.
‘Is she openly announcing that the assassination was planned?’
My fingernails dug into my palm.
This was a clear mockery of my mother’s death.
I wanted to storm into that garden—filled with nobles who supported the Empress and Crown Prince—and shout at them.
How can you eat and celebrate after killing my mother?
‘But if I act without evidence, it will only backfire.’
From the symptoms I felt, the one who attacked us was clearly a mage from the Zelon ducal family.
That matched what I remembered from my past life.
The description that always appeared in the game when entering the map called “Forgotten Grave”:
[The grave of Lady Roselia, assassinated by the Empress, her quiet rival. The truth was never revealed.]
‘That place always felt strangely sad… I used to visit it for no reason.’
In both the game and the original novel, whenever my mother appeared, it was always stated that she was assassinated by the Empress.
But unfortunately, remembering my past life or recognizing the traits of Zelon magic couldn’t be used as proof.
If I wanted to reveal the truth with evidence that anyone would accept, I had to be smarter.
Of course, that didn’t mean I would quietly back down.
‘First, I’ll properly send Mother off. Then…’
I adjusted my clothes while carefully planning my revenge.
* * *
The funeral was held simply at the villa my mother loved during her lifetime.
It actually felt more comfortable because none of the Empress’s people were present.
While the priests prepared the ceremony, my father—looking much more worn down—approached me.
“Frey, how are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, thanks to you, Father.”
As the musicians began playing a requiem, the atmosphere grew heavy.
Touching the white chrysanthemums, my father spoke in a low voice.
“Yesterday… for the first time, I regretted bringing Roselia into the palace.”
“….”
“…My selfish desire to have even one person by my side who cared for me caused this tragedy.”
I couldn’t respond for a moment.
The Empress—whom he had married against his will—was from a family that killed his brothers.
He had barely survived and become emperor thanks to his divine power, yet faced constant threats.
The Empress never wanted to be with him.
Even after giving birth to the Crown Prince, she left his upbringing entirely to her family and prevented the emperor from spending time with his own son.
[“Don’t worry. When I become emperor, I won’t be as incompetent as him.”]
In the end, the Crown Prince, Tahar, came to despise his own father.
At a time when the Zelon family was on the verge of taking over the imperial house, there was no one who truly loved my father—
Except my mother and me.
I held my father’s hand tightly.
“I’m glad you’re my father.”
“….”
Is there anyone who can deny the basic desire to love and be loved?
To the Empress and her family, my father might be useless.
But not to me.
“…Frey. I will protect you no matter what. So stay still.”
His voice was gentle, but firm—like he didn’t want me to get involved with what the Empress had done.
‘He doesn’t trust me.’
I had grown up in constant fear of being attacked.
Because of that, even things I could do well, I often failed out of hesitation.
I avoided gatherings with families loyal to the emperor and spent my time alone reading.
My parents let me live freely without responsibilities, buying whatever I wanted.
‘Now that I think about it, they probably knew the Empress’s side was pressuring me and tried to protect me more.’
Even my father couldn’t fully suppress the Zelon family.
Because of that guilt, he gave me everything—except the ability to fight back.
‘It’s only natural he doesn’t trust me.’
But now, it was time to step out of the greenhouse on my own.
‘To avenge Mother and change the future, the first step is to earn Father’s trust.’
I had decided what to do first.
“Then… we will begin.”
The high priest in mourning robes stepped forward and started praying.
Below, I looked at my mother resting inside the glass coffin.
The funeral mass passed in what felt like an instant.
As I picked up a white chrysanthemum, my eyes burned.
“…Mother. As you wished, I will live happily. So please don’t worry, and rest in peace.”
I whispered softly and placed the flower beside her.
While my emotions surged, my mind was colder than ever.
How to take revenge—
‘Strip the Crown Prince of his throne. Destroy the Zelon family’s foundation.’
Even thinking about it felt overwhelming.
Even with knowledge of the future, it wouldn’t be easy to take down the most powerful family alone.
Then there was only one option.
‘There’s only one family in the empire that can stand against the Zelon house—the Proust Grand Ducal family of the North.’
The same family that would later rebel and fall in the original story—and the one currently protecting the young male protagonists.
Their position was special.
Because in this empire, undead monsters appeared without warning, and only divine power could defeat them.
‘That’s why Father left—to deal with undead monsters.’
Normally, divine power appeared in imperial heirs.
But Crown Prince Tahar had none.
Meanwhile, the Proust Grand Dukes had a trace of divine power due to dragon blood.
To Tahar, that made them a threat.
‘So he tried to bring the Grand Duke under his control—but…’
He attempted to marry a loyal noble’s daughter to the Grand Duke.
But the Grand Duke, who disliked women and romance due to trauma, firmly refused.
‘So Tahar assassinated him instead.’
The problem was—
The children under his protection were incredibly powerful.
‘They were called chosen ones… transcendents.’
After the Grand Duke’s assassination, they went berserk and attacked the palace.
The empire quickly declined.
‘To change the future, I must prevent the Grand Duke’s assassination—and make sure those children don’t fall into darkness.’
And for that—
I needed to build a relationship where they would come to me first, instead of destroying the palace.
The best way to achieve all of that—
was to enter the Grand Duke’s household.
Through something like a contract marriage.
‘If I become the Grand Duchess, Tahar won’t be able to push his own candidate.’
The problem was—
how to get involved with a man who hated women and romance.
‘What was he like again…? A half-dragon, I think.’
Daniel Proust.
He was already dead at the start of the game, but fans loved him for his handsome face and noble, reserved personality.
They even gave him the nickname #pure_virgin_man.
‘Meaning he rejected every woman who showed interest in him.’
How was I supposed to win over someone like that?
As I was thinking—
someone entered the funeral hall.
“I heard Lady Roselia’s funeral is being held.”
The moment I saw who it was, tension ran down my spine.
Yvril Bliette—the daughter of Count Bliette, a loyal supporter of Tahar.
The very woman who would later be rejected by the Grand Duke.
“Lady Bliette.”
My father called her coldly.
But she simply brushed back her black hair and bowed politely.
“Your Majesty. I came to offer my condolences.”
“….”
“Her Majesty the Empress and the Crown Princess were also deeply saddened by this unfortunate event.”
Yvril looked as if she might cry at any moment.
Changing expressions at will was her specialty.
Because of this, rumors spread that the Crown Prince was saving her as a bargaining chip.
[“Even Daniel Proust, who hates women, might be different with her.”]
[“It wouldn’t hurt to get on her good side. Becoming Grand Duchess isn’t a small matter.”]
[“She’ll come of age next year. The Crown Prince must already be making moves.”]
I had overheard those conversations while standing alone at parties.
Because of that, Yvril likely believed she would become the Grand Duchess.
“Well then…”
She bowed to my father and walked toward my mother’s coffin—
holding the chrysanthemums the Empress had ordered.
Polite on the surface.
A perfect insult underneath.
I had no intention of just watching.
As she passed by me, I spoke.
“Father, how old is the Grand Duke of Proust this year?”
