CHAPTER 02
A quaint and cozy rural village, a bit removed from the Duke’s estate in the Duchy of Mutan.
Despite the peaceful appearance, Priscilla kept her guard up, tightly wrapping her robe to conceal her face. She was worried someone might recognize her — the Duchess’s face, even from her younger days.
She entered a small but clean-looking inn and only took off her hood after she had unpacked in her room.
“I still can’t believe it…”
Priscilla clearly remembered what she looked like before she died.
Worn-out, exhausted, and miserable. Her skin was dull and flaky, her eyes were empty, and her hair was dry and frayed.
Though she hadn’t been that old, her complexion was dark and lifeless.
That shocking image was etched in her mind like a scar.
But now, the reflection in the inn’s mirror radiated a youthful vibrance that no amount of jewelry or makeup could replicate.
Setting aside the mystery of how she’d become young again overnight, Priscilla calmly reviewed her next steps.
“Should I go to the capital and accuse Brian Mutan of attempted murder?”
But he was the Duke of Mutan — a man blessed by the gods.
He had likely already spun the story to make it seem like Priscilla had taken her own life after being caught in an affair. Even if she claimed innocence and accused her husband, who would believe her?
And who would believe she had turned young again? Worse, she could be accused of using dark magic.
“More importantly, if they know I’m alive, they’ll definitely try to kill me again.”
It was too dangerous to reveal herself without a safety net.
“…First, I need to find Franz as soon as possible.”
As a mage, her brother might be able to figure out the cause of this strange phenomenon.
For now, she decided to keep her identity hidden and catch a carriage to the western region where her brother lived. She lay down on the bed, determined to leave by tomorrow.
Exhausted from the day’s events, she quickly drifted into sleep.
Meanwhile, Duke Mutan returned to the estate with a light step.
He felt as if a huge burden had been lifted. Humming to himself, he read over the forged suicide note he had prepared in advance.
Hmm. Not bad at all.
At this rate, no one would suspect Priscilla’s death was anything other than a suicide.
As he celebrated with a drink, he recalled what she had looked like in her youth.
Back then, Priscilla had been the most beautiful young lady in the capital. Even as she aged, she was still rather pretty.
“A bit of a waste, but oh well…”
He had to throw away the old to make room for the new.
Besides, he already had a younger and prettier mistress.
Once the funeral was handled, he would remarry her and present her as someone who had comforted him in his grief.
But then, a problem arose — despite a thorough search of the area, Priscilla’s body could not be found.
Only her shoes had been recovered, floating in the water.
“Could she still be alive?”
Uneasy, the Duke widened the search radius.
If Priscilla really had survived, things would get very complicated. He needed to find her and kill her — quickly.
But things didn’t go according to plan.
Even after two days, there was no news. Meanwhile, the Duke’s children, summoned by a message, arrived at the estate.
“Father, the estate feels tense. Is it because of her? She’s not around—did you take care of it?”
Eric and Evelyn Mutan walked into the study and went straight to the topic of Priscilla.
They had always disliked their young stepmother for different reasons.
So they hadn’t objected to their father’s plan to replace her.
“I pushed her off a cliff to make it look like a suicide, but we haven’t found the body.”
“What? So she might still be alive?”
“No way to know. She could’ve been swept away by the current, eaten by wild animals, or maybe even crawled out alive.”
The Duke sighed. Eric and Evelyn, who had assumed she was dead, stiffened at his words.
“So there’s a chance she could come back?”
“What do we do?! We have to find her and kill her before that happens!”
“Tch. Evelyn, don’t raise your voice like that. What if someone hears you?”
Startled by their father’s scolding, Evelyn crossed her arms and shut her mouth.
As the Duke lit a cigar, he frowned, remembering the unexpected guest they had brought.
“By the way, why did you bring the Crown Prince with you?”
Theodore Johannes Trisen. Eric’s close friend and the Crown Prince of the Trisen Empire — he too had come to the duchy.
“It wasn’t me, Father. Evelyn invited him.”
Eric raised both hands and ratted out his sister. Evelyn glared at him but hunched her shoulders.
Just as they were preparing to return to the estate, the Crown Prince had suddenly visited. Evelyn, who had secretly admired him for years, impulsively invited him along. Eric hadn’t had time to stop her.
“I just wanted to let him know about her death before he heard it elsewhere…”
“It’s going to make the papers eventually. Why bring him here?!”
“S-sorry…”
Evelyn apologized, looking deflated.
The Duke’s heart softened. He adored his daughter and saw her as his precious heir.
“Never mind, Evelyn. You did nothing wrong. Eric! You should’ve stopped her!”
“…How is this my fault, Father?”
“Then is it Evelyn’s? Or mine?”
Faced with his father’s sharp glare, Eric had no choice but to surrender.
“Sorry. My mistake.”
“Good. From now on, take better care of your sister. Her mistake is your mistake!”
“…Yes, sir.”
Eric clenched his jaw in frustration. Meanwhile, Evelyn, once again emboldened, spoke up.
“Anyway, shouldn’t we tell the Crown Prince she’s dead?”
“Of course. Since things turned out this way, we should make use of him.”
If Priscilla did return alive, it wouldn’t hurt to poison the Crown Prince’s view of her in advance.
The Duke decided to break the news to Theodore himself.
He found him strolling through the garden. Even from a distance, the tall man stood out — one hand in his pocket, posture relaxed.
“Your Highness.”
The Duke greeted him. The coldly handsome man turned around.
Jet-black hair, sharp blue eyes, a high nose, defined jawline, and a sculpted mouth.
He looked like a figure from a painting. Slowly, he replied.
“There are no daffodils in this garden.”
“Pardon? Ah, Evelyn only likes flashy, pretty flowers, so that’s what we planted.”
The Duke subtly bragged about his daughter’s beauty. Theodore didn’t react and changed the subject indifferently.
“By the way, the Duchess is nowhere to be seen.”
“Actually, I wanted to speak to you about that.”
The Duke, wearing a sorrowful expression, handed over the forged note.
Theodore glanced over it and returned it with no change in expression.
The Duke wasn’t surprised. The younger man was famously cold and indifferent.
“We’re currently searching for the body to conduct a proper burial.”
“Is that necessary?”
“…Pardon?”
“If she chose to end her life, we should respect that.”
The Duke blinked in confusion. Theodore curled his lips into a slight smile.
“But if you insist on finding her remains, I’ll help.”
“W-what? No, it’s fine, Your Highness.”
The Duke waved his hands to refuse, but Theodore ignored him.
He calmly placed a hand on the Duke’s shoulder.
“I brought some knights I trust. I’ll have them search for the Duchess’s body.”
“Really, there’s no need—”
“Don’t be modest, Duke. I owe the Mutan family a debt.”
The subtle forcefulness in Theodore’s tone left the Duke unable to refuse.
Things were clearly taking a very unexpected turn.
Priscilla bought new clothes, shoes, and a hat at the market.
Wearing a plain dress and tying her hair back, she looked like an ordinary commoner girl, not a duchess.
Through the innkeeper, she was introduced to a merchant heading west to sell goods. Though she’d have to squeeze into a small space on the cart, it was better than nothing.
The merchant planned to leave in three days. Until then, she intended to stay holed up in her room.
There was still no word about her death or disappearance.
Not a good sign. They were likely starting to suspect she had survived.
She had hoped they would just assume she was dead.
Sighing, she went downstairs to eat. She had just taken a bite when—
“Excuse me. Is the innkeeper here?”
A group of knights entered the inn.
Priscilla’s face stiffened as she noticed one of them wearing a uniform with the Mutan crest.
“That’s me. What’s going on?”
“We’re looking for someone. Have you seen a woman in her mid-thirties with green eyes and short blond hair?”
As expected, they were investigating whether she was alive.
“No, haven’t seen anyone like that.”
Relieved by the innkeeper’s calm reply, Priscilla exhaled quietly.
But it was too soon to feel safe. One knight asked another question.
“Then, has anyone suspicious or unfamiliar stayed here recently?”
“Well, not really… This is an inn, so strangers are common.”
“Understood. If you do see anyone resembling the woman we described, report it to the guards immediately.”
“Of course.”
Priscilla pulled her hat down further and waited for the knights to leave.
Their heavy footsteps began to fade, and just as she was beginning to relax—
“Wait.”
One knight suddenly stopped and pointed at her.
“Who is that?”
