~Chapter 8~
“Move aside. You’re scaring the lady of the house.”
The head maid spoke to the black blob rolling along the corridor.
The blob stopped moving, then waddled over to the head maid and clung to her ankle, rubbing against her affectionately.
“You think being cute will save you? Not a chance.”
She easily scooped up the curse.
“I told you not to come to the west wing for now. You’re coming with me, to the master.”
[Guu…]
The head maid scolded the limp, saggy curse in her arms.
“The master has finally found himself a partner. She seems genuinely decent this time—can’t let her slip away.”
The new mistress she’d greeted had no ties to the royal family and, unlike previous women, seemed calm and grounded.
More importantly, her master—who had long shown no interest in marriage—had personally chosen her.
That’s why the head maid had gone out of her way to prepare things to ensure a smooth first night.
Thankfully, it seemed to have worked.
Even though the next morning, she had gotten a scolding from the master who hadn’t expected it.
[Guu?]
Still, no matter how much effort she put in, this black blob had no way of understanding her words.
“Sigh… never mind. Let’s go. Be quiet.”
The head maid tucked the black curse into the pocket of her apron and straightened her clothes.
Just as she turned to head toward the master’s office—
What’s that sound? Wind?
She paused. Maybe someone had forgotten to close a window.
She followed the sound around a corner—
It was the hallway that led to the mistress’s bedroom.
“…Oh no.”
The mistress’s bedroom door was wide open.
In a mansion filled with strange things, she had strictly instructed everyone to keep doors locked at night.
Panicked, the head maid rushed forward—and saw it.
Bloodstains scattered across the threshold.
“…Milady!!”
Something had clearly happened.
Something that shouldn’t have happened.
As I opened my eyes, a strange scent pricked my nose.
It was the kind of smell you get when incense has been burning in a sealed space for too long.
My head was spinning. The stench made me nauseous.
‘Where am I?’
Looking down, I saw an endless black abyss. No floor, no ceiling.
Then, my memory returned.
I had been attacked by a woman with a kitchen knife and passed out.
‘She said Damien was hers, didn’t she?’
I didn’t know exactly who she was, but she clearly liked Damien and must have targeted me for taking the position of his wife.
Like those stories in novels or tabloids about a man’s ex-fiancée, lover, or secret mistress threatening his new wife.
‘Looks like she didn’t stab me, though.’
So… was this her domain?
When I moved my body, thorny vines tightened around my limbs. Blood seeped out where they pricked me.
I grimaced at the pain.
“Awake?”
A sharp female voice rang out.
When I looked up, the blonde woman was there, grinning maniacally.
‘Wow, this is straight out of a horror movie or novel.’
If I survived this, I needed to draw it all down and keep a record.
If I survived.
“Hehehe… hehehehe…”
The woman laughed, staring at me with delight.
Honestly, she was so grotesque, I couldn’t tell if she was a ghost, a demon, or a deranged psychopath.
“Hey.”
Suddenly, she stopped laughing.
Her eyes—brimming with murderous intent—locked on me.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
There was no way I could.
I had just blacked out and woken up tied like this.
“Hmm… Because I offended a ghost’s feelings?”
I took a wild guess, and the woman shrieked.
“You wretched girl! I’m not a ghost!”
She wiped her blood-smeared lips, trembling with rage.
“How dare you confuse me with those lowly beings! Foolish wretch.”
Finally suppressing her anger, she asked in a cold, low voice:
“So? Why am I upset?”
“Uh…”
“You better not say the wrong thing.”
She flashed the knife in her hand.
I blinked—and suddenly it was at my lips.
“You’ll regret whatever you say.”
She had closed the distance without a sound, her bloodshot eyes twitching as she raised the blade to my mouth.
A chill crawled down my spine.
‘Ooh, 8.5 out of 10.’
It was the first time I’d felt this kind of chill since entering this world.
“Well? Answer me.”
She pressed the knife under my chin.
“Why am I angry?”
I recalled what she had said before I passed out.
Damien is mine.
“Because I stole Damien from you?”
“Ha! Damien? You really think he’s yours?”
She twitched.
“A nobody like you dares to call a Grand Duke by name? You think you’re really the lady of this house?”
“He asked me to call him that.”
That shut her up.
Eyes wide, she gritted her teeth and spun around.
“You’ve got guts, talking back like that.”
Clatter—
She laid out various tools in front of her: saws, knives, blades, scissors, even rusty nails.
“So, which one do you like best?”
“…What are you going to use them for?”
She smiled so wide it nearly reached her ears.
“What else?”
Drip.
A cold liquid splattered onto my face.
“I’ll make sure Damien runs the moment he sees your face.”
It reeked of metal.
“Just like that one over there.”
I looked up to see something descending from the ceiling.
A half-mummified corpse with long hair and rotting flesh opened its mouth as if to swallow me whole.
The stench hit me like a wall of garbage, making me flinch.
“Hey, don’t pass out yet.”
The blonde woman giggled and picked up a nail.
In her other hand was a straw doll.
Looking closer, I saw black, curly hair tied around its neck.
‘That’s my hair.’
Carved on its stomach was the name: Rubiana Aristea.
A curse doll. One wrong move and anything could happen.
“Let’s begin.”
Thwack.
She drove the nail straight through the doll’s belly.
I shut my eyes, bracing for pain.
But—
“Huh?”
One second. Two. Three…
Nothing happened.
“What the hell? Why isn’t this working?”
Panicked, she pulled out the nail and stabbed it again and again.
Still, nothing.
“Damn it!”
She slammed the poor doll down over and over.
Watching her, I knew.
“You’re a curse, aren’t you?”
The woman stopped mid-stab.
“…What are you?”
I smiled.
Snap—
With a little force, the vines snapped apart.
Her face was now visibly nervous.
“8.7 out of 10.”
“What?! You…!”
She gritted her teeth and smashed the doll again.
“How dare you mock me! I’ll kill you!”
But still, nothing happened.
“Why isn’t this working!?”
She was so distracted she didn’t notice me approaching until I was right in front of her.
She flinched.
“Because,”
I caught her hand before she could retreat.
I gripped the curse doll tightly—and it disintegrated into black ash.
“Curses don’t work on me.”
Crack—
A massive fracture split the black ceiling.
The abyss shattered like a glass marble, revealing the real world.
Everything—the doll, the blades, the vines, the mummy, and even this dimension—had been conjured by a curse.
So, none of it could affect me.
As long as I knew the truth, I could nullify it.
“That girl…”
The blonde muttered, her face twisted in horror.
Trembling, she pulled a knife from her robe.
‘That knife—it’s not made from a curse?’
Before I could step back, she screamed and lunged.
“I won’t lose him again!!”
And then—
“Who dares touch my wife?”
