Episode 2
When I first heard of the marriage, I still clung to a faint hope.
That at least the one I was bound to as a partner might show me love—
or, if not love, then at the very least, the decency of human regard.
Even as my husband’s cold eyes fell upon me, I couldn’t quite let go of that fragile sliver of hope I harbored inside.
“Ha… ha ha ha…”
A hollow laugh spilled out of me. My laughter wouldn’t stop, no matter how I tried. The man clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“What’s this? Have you gone mad?”
If only I truly had lost my mind. Then I wouldn’t know what was happening. Then I wouldn’t feel this suffocating dread.
Even now, in the midst of everything, I hated myself for being so clear-headed. I had known my husband was a depraved, wretched man, but I had never imagined he would sell his own wife off to another man.
“This wasn’t in the agreement. Well… so be it.”
There wasn’t even time to despair.
The moment Dahlia felt the lustful eyes raking over her, a shiver of pure revulsion ran down her spine.
No. To be defiled by some nameless man was worse than death.
‘Then I’ll choose death instead.’
The window still bled a faint, hazy light into the chamber. For the first time in her life, Dalia chose to move by her own will—not at someone else’s command.
Feigning submission, she measured the distance carefully, pasted a docile smile onto her face, and staggered toward the man. But at the last moment, she spun, darted for the window, and flung it open.
Below stretched a sheer cliff. Waves crashed against the rocks, the spray glittering like shards of glass.
The man lunged, reaching out—but Dahlia hurled herself into the light without a moment’s hesitation.
Her gown billowed like pale petals. The wind shrieked against her ears.
There was nothing left to hold her to life. No one who would grieve her once she was gone. Only that fleeting taste of freedom—so sweet it was almost bitter—that tore at her heart.
For the first and last time, her fate was her own choice.
And that fact was sweeter, sharper than any cup of chocolate Shiray had once placed in her hands.
The weather was dazzlingly bright that day. Her small hand, reaching for the glittering sea below, trembled once—then stilled.
Her final thought was a whisper:
‘If I had known life was so fleeting, I would have dared to want more.’
A searing light engulfed her vision.
A sensation struck her—like being pulled out of the water.
Dahlia gasped, lungs burning, palms pressed against the ground as she coughed and drew in frantic breaths.
She had always been taught that those who took their own lives would find nothing after death but eternal torment.
And yet, gentle hands wiped the tears and seawater from her cheeks.
Stunned, she looked up.
A figure stood before her in a realm suffused with light. A woman, perhaps—but radiant, divine. Her very presence shimmered with a warmth that wrapped around Dahlia like a gentle tide.
“You are…”
Before she could gather her senses, the being knelt and drew her into an embrace.
Warmth—such warmth as she had never known in life.
Dahlia thought, dazed: So this is paradise. I must have come to heaven after death.
But no… She had ended her own life. She had performed no great virtue, made no worthy offering.
“Is this a vision for the dead? Am I destined for hell now?”
“Hell?” The voice was kind, amused. “Why would you think that?”
Her throat tightened. Words failed her, and the bitterness she had dammed up all her life burst out as sobs.
She had been born into nobility, yet knew none of its sweetness. She had endured, thinking perhaps—just perhaps—if she kept going, happiness might come one day. But her husband had crushed even that fragile dream, drugging her and selling her like chattel.
Tears streamed down her face. At last, she whispered, broken:
“Because… I’m selfish. I took my own life.”
The being tilted her head, the soft radiance undimmed.
“Dahlia, tell me—did you truly live selfishly?”
Her name. She knew my name.
Was this being truly a god who remembered even the smallest, most insignificant soul?
Dahlia hesitated. “I… I don’t know. Maybe not. I only know… I always lived trying to please others. To be loved. But I never was.”
“And if you were given another chance—would you choose the same life again?”
The question pierced her heart like a shaft of light. Another chance? Could such a thing be?
Old texts spoke of rare ones blessed by divine grace, who had been sent back from the edge of death.
Hope flickered within her, trembling, fragile yet fierce.
“No. This time, I’ll live differently. I won’t be swayed by my father, my husband, or anyone else. I’ll live by my own will.”
The goddess smiled, stroking her hair.
“Of course, I’ll do good as well!” Dahlia added hastily, as though bargaining.
Laughter—clear as rolling pearls—rippled through the glowing space.
“That’s good. Do so.”
Dahlia felt tears sting her eyes again. If only I had known a mother like this…
Before she could speak, something small and golden floated into her hands—a pocket watch on a fine chain, gleaming with holy light.
“What… is this?”
“It will help you. Open it when the full moon rises.”
The goddess guided her fingers to close around it.
“A gift. Now it’s yours.”
“But… why me? Why give this to me?”
The reply was simple, weightless, yet overwhelming.
“Because I love you. Because I want you to do well.”
Her breath caught. Love. A word she had longed for, but never known.
Could this be real? Or merely the dying vision of a soul seeing what it most desired?
Still—she clutched the gift with trembling hands.
“Thank you.”
“Dahlia,” the goddess’s voice grew soft, intimate, “when you return… keep your promises to me, won’t you?”
“Yes. I will.”
“Good. Then listen—when you go into the forest, should you meet someone there, save him.”
“…The forest? You don’t mean the one where the Black Dragon dwells?”
“You called him a dragon of evil. But he is no evil creature.”
Confusion whirled in her mind, but the goddess said no more.
“Time is short. Tell him I send my regards.”
Before Dahlia could protest, a gentle hand brushed her crown, like a blessing.
Her vision flared white—
And the light consumed her.
