~Chapter 13~
Marquis Valandier gently soothed his daughter, who insisted they rush to see Livia after hearing she had collapsed, and left the mansion alone.
It had already been a week and two days since the would-be bride, once radiant with joy at the cathedral, had fainted.
News that she had awoken had already reached him.
But despite that, there was no word from Livia herself.
She would’ve known that both he and Serel would be worried. The Livia he knew would have immediately reached out to reassure them.
But there was only silence, and something about it felt ominous.
Instead of going to the Arfin mansion, the Marquis turned toward the cathedral where the wedding had fallen apart.
There, he encountered Schurel Arfin, tidying up the remnants of the ruined ceremony.
Even with the news that his sister had awoken, Schurel’s expression had remained dark.
Schurel, Livia’s younger brother, had grown up as a knight fighting on brutal frontlines. Their relationship had once been estranged—until the new Livia summoned him back. He had since become the vice-commander of the Crown Prince’s knights through sheer skill.
Knowing that the one who rekindled their bond was not the real Livia, the Marquis grew more uneasy seeing Schurel’s gloom.
Could he have figured out that another soul had taken residence in that body?
The real Livia had always been terrified of being discovered. But the Marquis often thought—would those who truly knew the original Livia even be angry if they realized it?
‘Is Lady Livia… alright?’
‘Ah, Marquis Valandier. So the news reached you as well?’
‘Serel was terribly worried.’
‘…Serel. I see… Serel…’
Schurel’s face fell even further.
‘Did something… happen to Lady Livia?’
That question came from pure instinct.
The Marquis, who had traveled the continent for business, had a sharp intuition honed through years of navigating people and information.
That same intuition had led him to suspect that Livia’s soul was someone else’s—a suspicion grounded in his encounters with obscure texts describing possessions, reincarnations, and forbidden rituals.
He had once stumbled upon such ancient texts — and from there, dared to believe the unbelievable.
Still, it had taken him a long time to fully accept and believe in that truth.
When he gently asked, Schurel’s reply was devastating:
‘My sister’s memories have returned. Or… maybe I should say, the ones she had were lost… the moment she came back.’
‘The sister you once knew… is no longer with us. She’s lost all those memories.’
‘However, she’s regained her original memories. The one we all once knew… her true self.’
Schurel referred to the original Livia as if she were a completely different person.
But if he had truly realized the soul had changed again, he wouldn’t look this conflicted.
‘We don’t know how to handle this situation. We weren’t close before she lost her memories.’
It was an understatement.
Their bond had been worse than nonexistent.
Schurel had volunteered for distant borders to cut ties with her.
When she summoned him back, his resistance was fierce.
The Marquis had watched her — the fake Livia — struggle to win Schurel’s forgiveness.
He understood the situation at last.
‘Her soul… has departed.’
After briefly comforting the confused Schurel and helping wrap up the cleanup at the cathedral, Marquis Valandier quietly returned home.
He had initially planned to visit the Arfin mansion afterward, but now that was no longer necessary.
The real Livia had been his enemy. With the imposter gone, there was no reason left to associate with her.
“I should’ve at least asked her name.”
He had shared deep conversations and thought they’d formed a true friendship. Yet in all that time, he had never even learned her true name.
That realization pierced him like a thorn beneath a nail.
After that, he severed all ties related to Livia Arfin.
Serel had wept and protested, but after a brief encounter at a ball held a month later to celebrate Livia’s recovery, no more was said.
It was at that ball that the Marquis saw “Livia Arfin” again — now truly someone else.
The event had been lavish, celebrating the restoration of the Saintess.
The Marquis knew that the Livia he remembered would have never hosted such an extravagant affair. That was how he realized, again, how much had changed.
Livia Arfin, in her new form, was stunning.
Her tall figure dazzled in an extravagant, revealing dress — the kind “she” would have never worn.
Scarlet lips curved in a seductive smile, and her cat-like eyes lured glances like a spell.
‘So many people worry about me… I won’t be lonely tonight.’
Only a month had passed, but the changes were radical.
First, the new Livia had sought out those she once controlled.
Then, she destroyed everything in the mansion she had once treasured.
It was as if she were declaring her return to the world.
At the ball, she radiated power and authority, commanding a crowd of loyal followers.
The Marquis had heard rumors — but seeing it with his own eyes left him deeply shocked.
“Same body, different soul… and yet the difference is that stark.”
Now he understood why those who had known the former her looked upon the new one as if she’d gone mad.
There was a loud crash.
The ball was at its peak.
Serel, who had tried to speak to Livia, returned looking shaken, her expression one of hurt.
She wanted to leave immediately. The Marquis, also no longer wishing to remain, stood to go.
Then the doors burst open — and he appeared.
Crown Prince Khalid.
‘Livia—!’
‘Oh my, Your Highness… what brings you here?’
‘What do you think you’re doing? I told you—how many times—to stay quiet!’
‘You did. So many times. I heard you loud and clear.’
‘Then why… this…!’
‘But, Your Highness—’
‘Why should I obey that?’
Her voice held laughter, her lips curled in a teasing grin.
But Crown Prince Khalid’s expression was grim.
Though his face remained stern, his crimson eyes trembled.
That celebration — intended to mark healing — instead left wounds on many hearts.
And no one was hurt more deeply than Crown Prince Khalid.
