~Chapter 4~
I couldn’t tell whether I was cleaning the filth, or if the filth was slowly erasing me. My mind began to blur.
A musclebound priest strode over and clapped his hands together with bright cheer.
He declared that, by the grace of the gods, I’d met my quota today, and then urged me to continue my “re-pen-tance” with just as much fervor.
I wanted to smack that bright smile right off his face, but I held myself back—he was far too massive.
Besides, I’d actually get to eat today…
Don’t get yourself in trouble—just get some food, please.
Utterly spent, I lay sprawled on the floor when I heard a welcome sound outside. The meal cart was approaching.
Anyone else would lose their appetite after a day like this, but for me, that was a luxury.
Welcome, welcome! What’s today’s menu? They grilled a good steak last time…
Ah, who am I kidding. Steak? It’ll probably be beans and rice. I could eat gravel at this point. Even if it’s mint-chocolate rice, I’ll devour it!
The door rattled open. Beaming, I accepted the bowl from the priest.
Ugh, what is this?
Disgusting… don’t they wash dishes here?
Even touching that filthy bowl felt defiling.
I took it with just my index finger. On top of it sat a limp piece of bread.
“This is…”
“Let us give thanks to the god who again provides our daily bread.”
“Excuse me!”
I caught the priest by the sleeve as he turned to go.
“This bread… it’s all speckled with color?”
“Leave the bowl by the door when you’re done.”
“No, I mean it! It looks deadly!”
I shook the bowl, but he slammed the door, clearly done with me.
I sat in silence, staring at the bread for a long time.
Should I eat this, or not?
My dignity told me no, but my stomach howled for anything—moldy bread or even the floor itself.
“Well, everyone else here eats this and they’re alive… and hey, kimchi is fermented, cheese is fermented—maybe moldy bread is okay!”
Reason surrendered to hunger.
I reached for the bread and crammed it in my mouth, eyes squeezed tight.
“Mmph.”
A rancid odor hit me. The bread was so hard I could neither chew nor swallow it.
“Ugh.”
In the end, I spat it out and slumped to the floor, tears pricking my eyes.
“What is this? I’m starving…”
Choking back tears, I howled up at the sky.
“God, I starved in my last life—is this how I’m supposed to die again? At least before I could get a part-time job… What am I supposed to do here?”
I sobbed until I was dizzy.
“I’m so weak… My old body had enough stored fat to last. But these legs—thin as bamboo skewers—have no strength left…”
I glared at my own pale, slender legs.
Even if I survived this slop, every day would be endless, backbreaking labor.
Even in the novel, Dahlia couldn’t endure the monastery, so she ran to Veseth.
Was she happy then?
Veseth abandoned her. Dahlia turned dark and attacked Sophienne.
And in the end,
Executed by the hand of the man she loved.
There was no hope anywhere.
Even if I didn’t run to Veseth, could I survive here?
“I don’t even know where I am… I’d be lucky not to get sold somewhere.”
Returning to the duke’s house to live imprisoned under that terrifying father was no better.
Sigh.
If only I’d been possessed a month earlier, I could have begged for forgiveness and sweet-talked Etienne.
Then I’d have been the wife of a cold but gorgeous prince, idling my days away and eating steak…
I stared out the tiny window at the coldly beautiful night sky. The twinkling stars made me think of Etienne’s silvery hair.
Etienne, you’re probably eating well and sleeping well, aren’t you? I hate you.
To be fair, Etienne wasn’t at fault. Dahlia betrayed him. If not for her, maybe his rebellion would have succeeded. He could have been king.
He just married the wrong woman.
I couldn’t even blame a man with such a tragic fate. My eyelids stung with unshed tears.
“No,” I whispered, eyes snapping open.
“Why should I give up so easily?”
This was my hard-won second life.
A plan—simple, yet maddeningly hard—came to mind.
“No divorce. Never.”
No matter how hard he tries to shake me off, I’ll cling to Etienne like sticky rice cake.
I’ll latch on and leech off him for life.
As long as I don’t bring Veseth any proof of Etienne’s treason, Etienne will survive.
Why would I ever betray him for Veseth? Veseth only ever used and discarded Dahlia.
If Etienne lives, I live. You happy, I’m happy, everybody’s happy.
No, Veseth is not happy. Who cares? He’ll never get to kill us.
Veseth, you get nothing.
Having sorted it all out, it seemed so easy. Easier than buying a house in Seoul.
I could do this.
“But… how do I stop the divorce?”
Just days ago, I’d screamed that I wanted a divorce more than anything—and signed every single paper.
“I was out of my mind. Never sign anything lightly! Even in the cheesiest romance novels, there’s always a four-week cooling-off period. I should have waited…”
If only I could sneak behind the bookshelf and warn my past self. If only transmigration came with time travel…
But time only ever moves forward.
So my first priority was obvious.
Destroy the divorce papers!
The same ones I’d signed so obediently.
“Those papers are still in Mr. Nose’s office, aren’t they?”
I remembered seeing them during morning prayers.
Knock, knock.
I rapped on Mr. Nose’s door. The muscle priest hovered nearby, glaring, dragged here by my half-veiled threats.
[That item—I remember exactly where it is now. I’m sure the prince would want to hear about it right away.
He cherishes it, you know. I had no idea.
If I forget by tomorrow, that’s on you.]
The door opened and Mr. Nose appeared, wearing white instead of the usual black—probably sleepwear.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?”
He eyed me from head to toe, face tight with suspicion.
“I heard you’ve come to confess your sins.”
Phase Two: commence!
I arranged my features. I am sorrowful. I am a sinner. I repent.
“…Yes,” I replied quietly, lips pressed tight in apparent anguish.
He waited for me to go on.
After a long pause, I let out a trembling sigh.
“I…”
Sad thoughts! Sad thoughts!
I pictured the steak rolling across the floor.
Damn, I’m hungry.
Tears sprang to my eyes. Thanks to these big eyes, they didn’t fall, only shone. When I blinked, a single tear slid down my cheek.
Beautiful, right? They say pretty people are always pretty.
Now’s the time.
I slid off the chair and knelt before Mr. Nose.
Ow! Too hard. My knees really hurt.
The pain made the tears flow for real.
“I’m truly sorry. I—I was being blackmailed! Someone forced me to steal Etienne’s secrets… I know I should’ve resisted, but before God, I deserve to die!”
I buried my face in my hands, shoulders shaking.
I used to hate how skinny I was, but right now, my frail body could only help me.
Don’t I look pitiful? Don’t you feel sorry for me? Look at these scrawny arms.
I shook with greater conviction, hoping he’d take pity. At last, his hand landed on my shoulder—a gesture of comfort.
Success! I hid a triumphant smile, head bowed.
I hadn’t expected it to work—but it was the only card I had left.
So, Mr. Nose was human after all.
Or maybe he just had a weakness for beauty. Priest or not, some instincts never die.
All glory to Dahlia’s lovely face.
I struggled to keep my mind on task.
The plan isn’t done yet. Don’t get cocky.
I lifted my head and gazed at him, my face wet with tears, eyes and nose flushed.
How’s this? Pretty, right? Doesn’t your heart ache? Even if you were the Tin Man, you couldn’t resist me.
Even Mr. Nose’s strict gaze wavered.
“Well… I suppose it’s good to see you repenting so earnestly…”
I nodded miserably in agreement.
“So, where is the item?”
“What?”
All the emotions I’d been holding collapsed at once.
He got right to the point. Mr. Nose, you professional devil.
