The Teacher of the Aristocratic Kindergarten is Exhausted Again – Episode 006
Time passed quickly. She had entered this novel in early spring, and now, as autumn approached, quite a long time had gone by.
During that time, Efna’s situation hadn’t improved. No—if anything, it had only gotten worse.
“My nose hurts.”
From her room, foul water constantly seeped out, filling the air with a fishy stench. The smell clung to Efna’s body so much that servants would cover their noses whenever they saw her.
With meals growing increasingly meager, it was only natural that her body wasted away into skin and bones.
The only times she could breathe freely were when she visited the mansion of her fiancé, Hardness Vilchen, for her bridal lessons.
That day too, she had been reviewing documents in the marquis’ mansion until late at night.
“Already this late?”
Her thin arm stretched high as she yawned. Efna, who had been meticulously checking the budget report for the first half of the year, stepped out of the room. Hunger gnawed at her.
As she pushed through the chilly late-autumn breeze, a lilting laughter drifted toward her.
“What’s that sound?”
As though bewitched, she found herself walking toward it. Something inside her screamed not to go, yet her feet would not stop.
The sound came from Hardness’s room, where the door was slightly ajar.
“Oh, stop it, Hardness. You’ll wear out my lips.”
“Sorry, Lilien. You’re just too beautiful, I can’t resist.”
It was a trite and tacky line. The problem was that the names she heard were all too familiar.
Efna, holding her breath, pressed her eye to the crack of the door. Through her blurry vision, she saw two figures locked in a deep kiss.
It was Lilien and Hardness.
“……!”
Unconsciously, Efna clamped her hands over her mouth. Her bony fingers trembled violently.
Why… why are Lilien and Hardness…
The two, oblivious to the open door, pressed closer together. Lilien’s pink hair cascaded over Hardness’s shoulder like silk.
“Am I pretty? Really?”
“Of course. No one in the world could be prettier than you.”
“Prettier than Efna, too?”
“How could someone like Efna ever compare to you?”
So, Hardness knew how to smile so cruelly.
He spoke ill of Efna so naturally, then kissed the corners of Lilien’s lips.
“I told you, my engagement to Efna is just a means to marry you.”
“Mm, I know. Because of my birth, we can’t be engaged yet… But it’s so hard to endure. I get so jealous.”
“Don’t worry. The Count said he’d soon register you as the daughter of the Countess. Once that’s done, I’ll annul my engagement with Efna and we’ll have our wedding.”
Efna’s mind, dulled by overwork, finally clicked into place. She understood the situation exactly.
The tenderness Hardness had shown her had all been lies.
The cold wind in the corridor whipped against her stiff shawl.
Meanwhile, how warm it must have been inside that room. The two of them shamelessly peeled away their fine indoor garments, one by one.
With bright pink eyes brimming with life, Lilien smiled blissfully.
“I want our wedding to be the biggest, most splendid of all.”
“Of course. I’ve been delaying the wedding with Efna as long as possible. Annoying, but not entirely useless. She actually does work pretty well.”
“Unlike my sister. She has no talent. That’s why Father always says she must work harder. How pitiful. Even if she is the legitimate daughter, without talent, she’s nothing.”
From Lilien’s words seeped both arrogance and a deep-seated inferiority complex about her origins.
She trampled on Efna to prop up her own sense of worth.
There had never been true sisterly affection in her. Nor real love for Hardness.
And yet, Efna had respected them. She had even trusted them. Never imagining such betrayal.
“Uugh…”
A wave of nausea surged up. Vomit clawed at her throat. Clutching her slipping shawl, she stumbled away from the door.
What was I enduring for? All those countless beatings…
Her staggering steps carried her outside the mansion. Harsh breaths scraped her chest, her heart pounding as if it would burst.
“Haa… haa…!”
Her arm, still aching from her father’s beating days ago, throbbed dully.
She recalled her once-proud self when she first possessed this body.
But months of beatings and neglect.
The barred, hidden room.
The suffocating bridal lessons at the marquis’ house.
The stolen freedom…
Suddenly her head spun. Starved and anemic, she collapsed.
“Miss! Hey! Move aside!” someone shouted.
Her ears rang. Slowly, Efna lifted her head. The first thing she saw was a horse’s raised hoof.
Thud!
The hooves trampled her mercilessly.
Efna Windister died that way, struck by a carriage.
“Huuhk…!”
“Wha—! Hey, if you’re awake, say so! You scared me!”
“……”
“Why won’t you answer? Whatever. I’m leaving. But seriously, stop fainting so much, miss. It’s a nuisance!”
The maid, scowling in displeasure, stormed out.
Left behind was only a bowl of soup, wilted broccoli floating inside.
Efna rose, gasping, muttering in a daze.
“What is this…? Am I dreaming?”
Her dry, green eyes swept the room.
A tiny spider crawling across the ceiling, the water dripping down into a puddle below… Yes. This was her room in the Count’s estate.
Why am I here…?
She haltingly recalled her last memory.
A blinding flash, her body crushed under a horse’s hooves. She had died—certainly died.
Twice now, her death had been so meaningless. And yet, she was alive again.
Her hand gripping the blanket trembled with confusion. Her anxious eyes fell upon the old calendar.
“Imperial Calendar, the 4th…”
Efna frowned. She had died on the 29th. But the calendar showed the 4th?
Before she could process the situation, the door opened. Hardness entered, his face filled with worry.
“Efna, are you okay? You suddenly collapsed, I was so worried.”
“Hardness… why are you here?”
“What do you mean? We just had lunch together today. Did you forget?”
There—just faintly—she caught it. That tinge of annoyance in his voice, masked by feigned kindness.
Why is this bastard here?
Wait. If it was the 4th, then…
Yes. That was when Hardness visited the Count’s mansion.
Which meant it really was the 4th. She had returned to before her death.
Carefully, she pieced everything together. Hardness kept rambling beside her, but Efna, irritated, threw off the blanket.
“Hardness. I have a headache. Could you leave? Please.”
“Huh? Wh—”
“I said get out. Your voice is making me feel stupid.”
Humiliation flushed Hardness’s face red.
The man she had once thought was so gentlemanly was nothing more than a fool with no sense of shame.
“Close the door on your way out.”
“Efna! Hey—Efna!”
She pushed him out. Her heart pounded furiously.
“Yes… if possession is possible, then regression can’t be impossible either…”
After dying twice, her mindset had changed.
She would leave this cursed mansion. Live as she pleased. Do whatever she wanted.
From her drawer, she pulled out documents she had hidden deep within and strode toward the drawing room. The whispers of maids trailed after her.
“Did you see? Lady Efna’s face just now.”
“Yeah… like…”
They faltered, too unsettled to finish their sentence. Their broom shook as though facing some carved-in terror.
The servants, who usually mocked their lady openly, gathered in hushed groups.
Drip, drip. A maid wrung her rag at the window, her face stiff.
“It’s like a few months ago… when people whispered she’d gone mad, or changed into someone else.”
“Eeek! Don’t say that! You’re giving me chills!”
“It went quiet after that, so I thought it was just a passing madness. But now—what’s happening again?”
Their mistress had gone mad again. What kind of calamity was this?
Pale with fear, the maids huddled together. Efna ignored them all, eyes fixed only on her documents, as she opened the drawing room door.
“There you are, Father. And Hardness, too.”
“Efna. Who said you could enter here?”
“Well… nobody said I couldn’t, either.”
“What?”
Count Windister’s brows furrowed into a terrifying scowl.
But Efna ignored his glare and sat naturally in the seat of honor.
She crossed her thin legs. The servants watching the family gossip gasped aloud.
Lady Efna has truly gone mad!
At last, her soft voice flowed out.
“To put it simply, Father… please remove me from the family register.”
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