Chapter 10
3. Cordelia Hinch
In the past—during her second life—Yulia realized there was another version of herself that desperately wanted to believe Basil’s ridiculous excuses.
That feeling was closer to fear than love. Fear of the humiliation of realizing she had been stupid enough to mistake something like this for love. Because of that failure, she even considered simply accepting Basil’s excuses.
A man who claimed to love Yulia while announcing his marriage to a princess offered excuses that were truly absurd.
“Yulia, it’s something I can’t help. My heart belongs entirely to you… but I was born as Marjoram’s son. I have duties and responsibilities to my family. You understand, right? The princess is only marrying my shell. Nothing about us will change.”
It was laughable. She almost asked if he was serious—but she already knew he was.
Basil was a master of self-justification. And he was deeply, selfishly self-centered.
Only then did Yulia admit her choice had been the worst possible one.
“Marrying the princess? Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll expose how you toyed with a helpless commoner and then tried to kill her off just so you could marry into royalty. I’ll expose the corruption records I helped create for your family—and how I even took proxy exams for four years for your sister, all for a so-called loyal commoner!”
“Yulia!”
“I became a monster because of you… and now what do you call me?”
“Please, don’t do anything foolish.”
“Go on then—try killing me again!”
Basil never managed to kill Yulia with his own hands. But he could imprison her so she couldn’t escape.
He believed his love for her was real. He even suffered because of it. But he did not love her more than his pride or reputation.
Yulia was imprisoned by Basil—and not long after, she was killed by the Hyenas.
* * *
“My heart died.”
When Barbaslov asked how she could remain so calm in front of the man who had abandoned her, Yulia answered:
“In this world, I think I’m the one who can kill my own heart best. Injury piles upon injury, and before the wounds can heal, more are added. Even when the blood runs and flesh is torn away, if you keep ignoring it… eventually you become like this.”
Barbaslov looked stunned.
“That’s just because that bastard is trash! Idiot. You did nothing wrong. You’re the one who got hurt—why are you punishing your own heart?”
“Because it’s easier that way?”
“What are you talking about? Cry your eyes out, curse him out, then swap him for a better man. Do that a few times and then talk to me again.”
“I just started thinking… was what I felt really love? Or was it just a fantasy built up by a young, foolish heart?”
“What are you even saying?”
“You know… things like unicorns or horned demons—things that don’t exist. I thought my love was special like that, but maybe it was just a common, unremarkable tragedy.”
She said such cutting words while smiling. Even though it was her own story, there wasn’t a trace of self-pity.
“Hey…”
Barbaslov looked like he had a lot to say, but after opening and closing his mouth several times, he eventually gave up and looked at Karus as if asking for help.
“Why are you looking at me?”
“Say something good, will you?”
“Why should I say what you can’t?”
“I can’t speak well, alright!”
“I’m even worse.”
Barbaslov muttered to himself in agreement. Karus glared at him briefly and said,
“You just had terrible taste in men. Not just bad—absolutely awful.”
“Can you say anything without insulting someone…? That’s quite a talent, really.”
Barbaslov cautiously glanced at Yulia. She, however, looked completely unfazed.
“Thank you for worrying about me. Barbaslov is a very kind person. I’m sure your future wife will love you.”
“Really?”
Flustered by the praise, Barbaslov fidgeted awkwardly.
A day had passed since graduation. The group sat in the inn’s dining hall, preparing to part ways.
Karus, who had been looking at the menu as if uninterested in their conversation, glanced at Yulia and spoke casually.
“What happened yesterday… I assume Marjoram’s count has already heard of it. Do you have a plan?”
“For now, I’ll be fine.”
“Why?”
“There’s no proof that Count Marjoram sent assassins. The best I can do is spread rumors that Basil is a bad man. If the Count personally reacts to that, it’ll only make him look worse.”
“I should’ve captured those Hyenas after all.”
Karus put down the menu and called the innkeeper. The staff, who had been waiting eagerly, rushed over and took their order.
“This, and this, and this as well. No drinks—just beer and plenty of water.”
“Yes, understood. Anything else?”
“We’re leaving today, so settle the bill in advance.”
He handed over the money, then turned back to Yulia.
“If I had captured those Hyenas and handed them to you back then… would your revenge have ended in one go?”
“What? Of course not.”
Yulia laughed softly.
“If I had them in my hands, the Marjoram family’s real forces would have moved. Then I wouldn’t have even made it to graduation exams—I’d probably be nothing but pieces of a corpse feeding fish off the southern coast.”
“I see.”
Karus nodded calmly, as if agreeing.
Then Barbaslov spoke.
“So that Basil or Parsley bastard—what’s his deal anyway? If it were me, I’d be too ashamed to even show my face after doing something like that.”
“That’s because Basil isn’t Barbaslov… and also, I think he means it.”
“What do you mean?”
“That he truly loves me. He really tried to run away with me. But he was being watched, so he couldn’t. If we had just a little more time, we would’ve been happy.”
“That’s insane.”
Barbaslov clearly couldn’t understand Basil at all. Yulia simply agreed with him.
After the meal, they packed their belongings. Since Yulia was entering the royal palace, Karus and Barbaslov also prepared to leave for their own paths.
“I’m going to miss you.”
“Me too.”
Barbaslov sniffed loudly and fidgeted with his thick fingers, stealing glances at Yulia.
“Listen carefully, you brat. The royal palace isn’t just a place where noble people throw parties every day. It’s a place where they’ll steal your eyes, your ears, even your tongue. Got it? Be careful—always careful.”
“Alright.”
Yulia didn’t have much luggage, so she ended up helping Barbaslov pack his instead. He kept following her around, nagging nonstop.
“And most importantly! Stay away from men, okay? Don’t ever deal with idiots like that Basil guy again.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
“And if someone bothers you again, kick them right in the middle.”
Yulia laughed out loud this time, even joking that she might get arrested for assaulting a noble.
“You’re smart, but why do I feel so uneasy leaving you alone?”
“Why me?”
“You just feel… fragile.”
At that moment, loud commotion came from outside the inn, followed by a booming voice:
“By order of Prince Second Royal Highness Levisia Ortega! Yulia Arthe is to prepare to enter the palace as the prince’s personal attendant!”
Yulia immediately stood and looked out the window. A luxurious carriage, six soldiers, and a servant unloading a large box stood at the entrance.
“What… what is this?”
“Oh my…”
“What’s going on?”
“It seems His Highness the Prince sent people to fetch me. Please stay upstairs—I’ll go down alone.”
She hurried out. As she stepped into the corridor from Barbaslov’s room, Karus was just coming out of his own.
“Karus.”
“I know.”
He looked at her silently for a moment, as if thinking deeply. Then he stepped closer and lowered his voice near her ear.
“Yulia.”
“Yes.”
“If you need anything… find Maxwell. He will help you.”
Yulia looked at him, surprised. She had many questions, but the prince’s servant was already waiting downstairs.
“Go on.”
Karus gently pushed her forward. Then he and Barbaslov stood at the top of the stairs, watching her.
“Lady Yulia?”
The servant extended his hand from below.
Yulia slowly descended the stairs, took his hand, and stood before the box sent by the prince.
“This is a gift from His Highness Prince Levisia.”
Inside was a breathtaking cream-colored dress.
It wasn’t a banquet gown, but it was clearly made with great care. There were no flashy jewels or decorations, only pale lace flowing like moonlight. Simple, elegant, refined, and noble.
Yulia took a deep breath, folded her hands in front of her abdomen, and said,
“I will prepare myself.”
The innkeeper, witnessing a humble common girl becoming a royal attendant, smiled broadly and offered her the best room.
Yulia went inside alone and put on the dress.
In the large box was the dress; in a smaller one, shoes; and in an even smaller one, a brooch.
She had entered the room as a plain, modest girl—but when she stepped out, she had become an elegant palace maid.
“Let’s go.”
Taking the servant’s hand, Yulia stepped toward the carriage.
From the stairs, Karus watched her and gave a slight nod. Yulia blinked slowly toward him. Their gazes met briefly—then gently drifted apart, as if pushed away.
“Waaah!”
A crowd had already gathered outside.
A royal attendant was an honorific position. Even noble daughters had to train for years to become a royal aide. So for a commoner to enter such a position was enough to become a major topic of discussion.
The carriage door opened—and Yulia stepped inside.
