CHAPTER 01
1. If You Devote Yourself, You Become a Doormat
A woman stood at the edge of a cliff.
She looked like she might fall at any moment, her short golden hair whipping in the fierce wind.
Her name was Priscilla Muton. Also known as the Duchess of the Muton family.
“There’s nowhere left to retreat…”
Glancing back at the dizzying drop behind her, Priscilla bit her lower lip.
Her life was currently in danger.
“Just give up already, my dear.”
By none other than her own husband.
“Your death has already been decided. Resisting is a waste of time. Let’s do this the easy way.”
Her husband, Duke Brian Muton, stood with his hands behind his back, smirking wickedly.
To suggest “the easy way” in a moment like this…
Obviously, Priscilla had no intention of dying quietly as he wished.
“Do you have no conscience? Do you know why I ended up like this?!”
The reason she was in this mess in the first place was his affair.
Two months earlier, while walking alone in the garden, she’d run into her stepson Eric’s close friend.
“Why are you living so foolishly?”
“…Are you talking to me?”
“Yes, Duchess. I asked you.”
His blue eyes pierced straight through her.
From his questions to his attitude—everything was offensive. But she couldn’t argue. He was the Crown Prince of the Trisen Empire.
Instead, Priscilla straightened her expression and answered politely.
“I don’t understand what you’re implying, Your Highness. I am satisfied with my life.”
“…Why?”
“Pardon?”
“Even after seeing the state you’re in? Even knowing how you’re being deceived behind your back?”
The Crown Prince’s face twisted with unexplained anger.
While Priscilla stayed silent, flustered, he raked a hand through his hair and snapped:
“Look into what your husband has been up to. Stop playing the fool.”
He was 13 years younger than her and incredibly rude—but she couldn’t ignore his warning.
For the first time in her married life, Priscilla investigated her husband.
And what she discovered was devastating: her husband was having an affair with a girl young enough to be his daughter.
Was he even human?
Consumed with rage and betrayal, she confronted him immediately.
But he was far more shameless than she imagined.
“Perfect timing. Let’s get divorced. You haven’t contributed anything significant to House Muton, so you won’t need alimony, right?”
“What did you just say?”
“Oh, and let’s say the divorce is your fault—an affair on your part. I have a reputation to protect. You don’t.”
“…Are you insane?”
She had married this man in her late teens—he, in his mid-30s, a widower with two children—not for love, but to repay her father’s gambling debt.
She endured pressure and humiliation for 16 years, desperately trying to be accepted.
She had finally gained recognition as Duchess and earned the respect of a few people—only to be discarded like this?
Priscilla couldn’t accept it and refused to divorce him.
The Duke tried coaxing her for a while before appearing to give up.
Or so she thought.
He had told her he’d ended the affair and suggested they take a trip together to their duchy to reconcile. That was the trap.
Once deep in the mountains, the Duke revealed his true colors—leading to this moment.
“Don’t resent me too much. You’re not entirely blameless either.”
“What exactly did I do wrong?”
“You failed to properly serve your husband. Isn’t that the worst sin a lady can commit?”
Her clenched fist trembled in disbelief.
She had done everything for this man and his family—managing documents, overseeing the estate, participating in business, handling all the dirty work.
“I—I gave everything to you and House Muton…!”
Priscilla squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. Facing death made her realize how foolish she’d been all her life.
She had endured an incompetent and selfish family, tolerated a husband who looked down on her, and lied to herself that she was content.
The truth was, she’d never been happy.
And now, she couldn’t live like that anymore.
“You’ve enjoyed a position far above your worth. Consider it grace and repay the favor—”
“You bastard!”
She cut him off with a roar, finally shouting the truth she had buried for years.
“You coward! You disgusting pig! You think I ever wanted to live with you? Every meal, watching you eat made me nauseous. Even your breathing drove me insane!”
“Y-You’ve gone mad! Watch your mouth!”
“I won’t! You murderous, lecherous bastard! Someone like you, blessed by the gods? What a joke! This world is doomed!”
“Why, you—!”
The Duke’s face turned red with rage as he grabbed the back of his neck. Priscilla didn’t care—she hurled every curse she knew.
“You want to kill me? I’ll haunt you even in death, you trash!”
“Wretched woman! I should’ve rid myself of you long ago!”
With a shudder, the Duke used the divine power he was blessed with.
A white light radiated from him and seeped into the ground. Soon, vines sprouted at Priscilla’s feet.
“Just die already!”
Startled, she had no time to react. The green vines shoved her violently.
Thud—whoosh.
Her body lifted into the air, then plummeted toward the gorge below.
“How unfair…”
She had just found her voice. Just resolved to finally live freely.
As she fell, she kept her gaze on her smirking husband.
“Dear gods, please… grant me just one chance to rip that bastard’s wig off.”
If given that chance, she’d never again live as a fool.
Splash. Dark waters engulfed her, and Priscilla felt cold seep into her bones as her eyes closed.
And then…
She opened her eyes again.
Her last memory was drowning, so it took her a moment to grasp that she was alive.
A drop of cold water from the cave ceiling hit her forehead, snapping her back to reality.
“What happened? Why am I here…?”
She couldn’t swim—Brian knew that. That’s why he threw her into the gorge.
Yet here she was, alive and well. It was nothing short of a miracle.
“Damn you, Brian Muton! I’ll make you pay for betraying my devotion!”
Priscilla, delighted by what felt like divine intervention, suddenly froze.
Something felt… off.
Her clothes were perfectly dry. Her hair—soft and silky—was also completely dry.
“Wait… what’s wrong with my hair…?”
She grabbed the golden locks cascading over her shoulders in shock.
She had kept her hair short since her wedding, but now it flowed down past her waist.
“And why do these clothes fit so well?”
She had lost weight recently from the stress of her husband’s affair, so her dresses had become loose—but this one fit just right.
Confused, she stepped out of the cave. Before her stretched a clear blue sky, a lush forest, a shimmering river, and a rocky shore.
Priscilla walked to the water.
Though it wasn’t a perfect mirror, the surface reflected her face well enough.
Her full lips parted in shock.
“Why… do I look so young?”
Pale skin like snow, smooth as porcelain. Bright green eyes filled with life. Silky, glossy golden hair.
This was exactly how she had looked before marriage.
She stared at her reflection in a daze, then pushed back her hair—revealing a scar behind her right earlobe.
It had formed when she was 17, after being slapped by her stepmother and having an earring torn from her ear.
If she still had that scar and her long hair… then she must be around eighteen.
“No way… I’m thirty-four…”
Smack!
She slapped herself. The pain was real. Her reflection didn’t change.
“Then… did I go back to the past?”
If so, perhaps this was a second chance— a gift from the gods.
Overcome with emotion, Priscilla began planning her next steps.
Her father and stepmother had always sided with Brian. If she returned home now, they’d just push her into marrying him again.
“The only person who might truly be on my side is…”
Her twin brother Franz came to mind. He had always been the soft spot in the family, frequently writing letters after her marriage, assuring her she could rely on him.
“I’ll go to Franz.”
But how?
She was barefoot, in a dress, without jewelry or money. She didn’t even know where she was.
As she stood there helplessly, something caught her eye—a brown backpack at the entrance of the cave.
“What’s this…?”
She peeked inside—and her eyes widened.
It contained a map, a robe, money, and various supplies a traveler would need.
Had someone lost or abandoned it?
“There’s even a newspaper.”
Opening it to check the date, Priscilla froze.
The printed date was not from the past—it was from the present.
Meaning… she hadn’t gone back in time.
Only her body had.
