Chapter 1
What would you do if you found out you’d die soon, bleeding out?
Unless someone wants to die, the instinct to survive kicks in — it’s just human nature.
In a dark room, I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
A beautiful woman looked back — she had sea-colored hair and sorrowful gray-green eyes.
Yeah… that’s me.
This world I’m living in now — it used to be familiar, without a second thought.
But now, all of a sudden, it felt strange.
I stared at myself like I was someone else and muttered,“…Did I really reincarnate as Hazel from that novel?
Why?”
It sounded ridiculous.
I’d already lived as Hazel for twenty whole years, yet now I was suddenly questioning why I was Hazel.
For a moment, I denied reality.
I buried my face in a soft pillow, telling myself it was just a dream.
I even kicked my slipper across the room and shivered from the stress.
But then, I remembered my fiancé’s name is the same as the guy in the novel, and not just that — everything around me matched the story.
At that point, there was no more denying it.
So I thumped the pillow and admitted the truth:
I was reincarnated as Hazel — the tragic mom who gives birth to the heroine and dies — in the novel “My Dad Is a Monster Duke.”
“Seriously? I’m supposed to die after having a baby? No way… I want to live!”
I really, really want to live!
To someone else, I probably looked crazy, clutching my head like that,but I had my reasons.
I’d remembered my past life ever since I was born.
I grew up as a poor orphan in Korea — ironic, considering how wealthy the country is.
No matter how hard I tried, life just wouldn’t go right.
“Pitiful, hungry, lonely girl” —That pretty much summed me up.
My last memory? Falling asleep from hunger.
Yeah… I probably starved to death.
So waking up with my past memories intact was confusing at first.
But I got used to it fast and grew up well.
Sometimes, I hoped my memories might be a cheat code in this life.
But nope.
“Some cheat code this is…”
Out of all people, I had to be Hazel — the woman doomed to die?
It’s like being handed a death sentence in advance.
Thanks, but no thanks.
I tried to recall the story again.
In the novel, Hazel dies after giving birth, and her husband, Dante Romanov, goes completely off the rails.
They didn’t even love each other — so it wasn’t heartbreak that broke him.
But the novel describes how he went crazy, turning into a monster.
Of course, readers eventually find out he didn’t really try to kill his baby.
But rumors said otherwise.
A maid had faked the baby’s death and smuggled her out,and she grew up with a kind man until she reunited with her dad at age seven.
But wait —If I really follow Hazel’s life…
Wouldn’t I die from a disease even before giving birth?
In the side story, it’s revealed Hazel had a disease from birth —Her magic was blocked, which slowly shut down her organs, and eventually, her heart.
Luckily, I knew this from the book, so I could estimate where I was in the illness.
“Right now, no symptoms yet…”
I even knew the cure —some rare herb from a far, dangerous place.
In the story, Dante gets it and saves her from the disease.
“But she still dies giving birth… So what’s the point?”
I paused for a second, then shook my head.
I didn’t want to think about that death anymore.
Seriously —Why did I end up in a novel?
In my last life, I starved to death.
And now, I’m supposed to die again?
That’s not fair.
I had no intention of following the original plot.
Hazel and Dante weren’t even in love.
There was no emotional attachment worth risking my life for.
“Obviously not.”
If I felt any guilt, it was just a little —
for the baby girl who was supposed to be born.
It felt like I was stealing her chance to live.
That thought made me feel weirdly guilty.
But still…
There wasn’t a drop of motherly love in me that made me want to give up my life for a baby I hadn’t even met.
Yeah, I felt bad.
But I pushed the thought aside and steeled myself.
Knock knock.
Someone was at the door.
It opened, and in came Hannah — my cheerful maid.
“Oh my!”
She looked startled seeing me glaring at the mirror in the pitch-dark room.
“You’re awake, Miss Hazel.
Some of the maids said they heard weird noises coming from your room…”
I guess my muttering had carried.
“Yeah, that was me.”
I said it flatly, and Hannah just nodded like it was normal.
She was used to me being odd.
Everyone around me thought I was a bit eccentric —Unpredictable, quiet one moment and intense the next.
I always insisted I was perfectly normal…
but no one really believed that.
Can’t blame them.
After my 15th birthday, I barely left my room and spent all my time researching magic.
Not in a quiet, well-behaved way either —
I did whatever I wanted.
I was the daughter of a powerful duke, but totally ignored my duties.
Snuck out on secret trips, avoided my family,and acted all moody whenever I did see them.
I had my reasons, of course…
But looking back now at age 20,yeah — I might’ve overdone it.
Still, even if I had the chance, I’d probably do it all again.
I was young and didn’t know how to deal with the pain life threw at me.
Anyway —
Because everyone thought I was just the “weird shut-in noble daughter,”I had a lot of freedom.
Nobody questioned my actions much anymore.
“Hannah.”
“Yes, Miss?”
“Is His Grace asleep right now?”
Hannah’s eyes shook, filled with worry.
“…I think so.
The lights in his office are off, so he’s probably in bed.”
I stood up.
“I need to speak with him.”
“Right now?!”
“Yep.”
I opened the door, still in my frilly nightgown.
Hannah sighed and wrapped a shawl around me.
With a tired voice, she whispered,
“Miss, if you go see the Duke now, you’ll really shock him…”
“That’s unfortunate.
Also, your voice sounds weird.
Are you sick?”
“Miss!”
But I didn’t stop walking.
The only thing in my mind was escaping this death ending —whatever it took.
And that meant I had to see my father — now.
Walking with strong, unladylike steps, I reached the Duke’s bedroom.
Knock knock knock.
The sound echoed in the silence.
“Who is it?”
A deep, slightly groggy voice answered.
I calmed myself and said carefully,
“It’s me, Your Grace.”
No answer.
So I tried again.
“Your Grace?”
This time, the door opened.
There he was —Jeremy Lindbergh, head of the Lindbergh family… and my adoptive father.
He frowned slightly.
“…Come in.”
“Yes, sir.”
I walked right in.
He tilted his head, clearly surprised.
“What’s going on at this hour?”
“Your Grace,”
I hadn’t called him “Father” since I was fifteen.
And I never came to him voluntarily.
Maybe that’s why he looked so thrown off.
“…Yes?”
“I have a request.”
“A request? At this time of night—?”
I took a deep breath and said,
“Please cancel my engagement to Dante
Romanov.”
His brow furrowed deeply.
“…What?”
“I want to break off the engagement.”
“What are you even saying right now…?”
