| Episode 3
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on the bed in my own room.
‘But how did I even get home?’
The last thing I remembered was barely making it out of the garden.
That, and being drenched by torrential rain.
Clutching my throbbing head, I tried to think, but my memories remained vague—
as though shrouded in thick fog.
“Thirsty…”
Reaching toward the small table where a glass of water sat, my weakened body failed me.
Clatter!
The glass fell, soaking the carpet.
As I stared at the spreading wet stain, a sharp pain stabbed through my head.
“Ugh!”
This wasn’t the pain of an ordinary cold.
Certain of that, I pressed my head tightly and shut my eyes.
In that instant, unfamiliar memories surfaced one by one.
“What kind of title is this? ‘The Beloved Saint’? You can tell the plot just from the name.”
A black-haired woman flipped through the book in her hands.
Who was she?
I focused harder, but her face remained blurred, like mist.
She grumbled, laughed to herself at times, and finally closed the book—apparently having finished it.
“I’m hungry. I should go buy something to eat.”
The scenery abruptly changed.
A black road appeared, and a large car hurtled toward the woman at terrifying speed.
“W-What is that?!”
Before she could react, the car struck her, sending her flying to the ground.
A man rushed out of the vehicle.
Sticky blood flowed from the woman’s head, staining the pavement.
“Hey! Wake up!”
Each time I heard the man’s shouting, my head hurt more.
The blood spread—right to my feet.
I lifted my head and slowly approached the fallen woman.
This situation… this voice…
It all felt familiar.
Yes. This was—
As the fog covering her face cleared, all my memories returned at once.
I was that woman—the one who had died in a car accident.
The last book I’d read was The Beloved Saint.
And the male lead of that novel was named Ian.
The female lead—the saint—was Christine.
And the villain who tormented her…
Elisha Adrian.
“That’s impossible.”
Then this place was The Beloved Saint.
And I was the villainess who tormented Christine.
As I struggled to organize the chaos in my mind—
“Miss!”
The door burst open, and Bell rushed in, her face pale.
She set down the damp towel and basin she was holding and hurried to my side.
“Please don’t push yourself. Your fever hasn’t fully gone down yet. Oh my goodness—the glass broke! Are you hurt?”
Normally, I would’ve snapped at her to stop nagging.
But now, I didn’t have the luxury.
Elisha Adrian’s ending in the novel was utterly miserable.
Driven by jealousy after Ian ended up with Christine, she crossed the line one too many times, was exposed, expelled from the capital, and stripped of her title and property.
And now—
That fate was mine.
“Miss, are you alright?”
How could I be?
I knew I was destined to be cast out of the capital and earn the imperial family’s hatred.
“Ah…”
“Miss!”
Whether it was the lingering fever or the shock of my bleak future, I didn’t know.
But shortly after regaining consciousness, I blacked out once again.
The vicious cold I’d caught after being publicly rejected tormented me for days.
Because of it, I was confined to my bed.
At least it gave me plenty of time to think.
Two more days passed before I finally regained my strength.
My fever had subsided enough that moving wasn’t difficult anymore.
And with that—
worry about the future came crashing down.
After causing such a scene at the palace, my prospects felt even bleaker.
If only these memories had returned sooner, I wouldn’t have humiliated myself like that.
Regret flooded in relentlessly, squeezing my chest.
I never should have done that.
Looking back now, there had been no real reason to believe Ian cared for me.
A glance, a coincidental meeting of eyes—nothing more.
Yet I’d convinced myself it meant something.
My foolish past replayed in my mind.
“Ha…”
Everyone has a cringe-worthy past, but did it really have to be this heavy?
Letting out a deep sigh, I brushed my sweat-damp hair back.
“Is something wrong, Miss?”
“…It’s nothing.”
“If you feel unwell, you have to tell me right away, okay?”
“I know. You can go now, Bell.”
Bell nodded uneasily and stood up.
“I’ll bring a fresh towel. Please rest.”
“Alright.”
Only after she left did I slowly rise from the bed.
Sitting at my desk, I grabbed paper and pen.
First, write down everything I remember.
The Beloved Saint.
It was a story about Crown Prince Ian and Christine, the saint, joining forces to exterminate the monsters plaguing the Carter Empire, ending a war that had lasted for years—and finding love along the way.
Which meant—
For the empire’s safety and peace, those two had to end up together.
And that meant the obstacle—
Elisha—had to disappear.
Having reached that conclusion, I cleanly severed my five-year-long unrequited love for Ian.
My life mattered more than an impossible romance.
More than anything, thinking of Ian no longer made my heart race—only shame welled up.
In short, one public confession at the palace was more than enough for a lifetime of humiliation.
“I have to survive—no matter what.”
That was my only goal.
A long, stable life.
From now on, I would stay far away from the palace and live quietly.
Just as I tucked the papers into my desk drawer and stood—
“Elisha!”
A kind-faced middle-aged man burst in—
Count Adrian.
My father.
“Are you feeling alright? You shouldn’t be moving yet! Don’t push yourself!”
“I’m really fine now, Father. Please don’t worry.”
“How could I not worry? Especially after what happened at the banquet—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
I didn’t need to ask why.
He must have heard about my public confession—and rejection.
After losing his wife, Count Adrian cherished his only daughter deeply.
Even his modest fortune had been spent to grant Elisha’s wishes.
The extravagant dress I’d worn to the banquet had been thanks to him.
Looking at his worn clothes, I made a silent vow.
No more living beyond my means.
No more burdening the people who cared for me.
After taking a breath, I finally said what I’d been holding back.
“I’m going to give up on His Highness.”
“What… what are you saying, Elisha?”
No matter how much he loved me, he knew how willful his daughter was.
To suddenly abandon a five-year-long infatuation—
“Elisha, don’t tell me you—”
I quietly watched him struggle to continue.
I wanted to hear what he was about to say.
