TVDWD 06

Chapter 6

Monica’s long, thick lashes trembled slightly. Without waiting for Liam’s reply, she continued speaking, as if she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“According to Eva’s explanation, before I possessed Monica, two other souls had already possessed her body. Since then, the world of the novel has started to move on its own.”

“You’re saying someone else possessed Monica’s body before? So, what happened?”

Liam furrowed his brows, his expression darkening. His eyes seemed to plead for her to tell him it wasn’t true.

But Monica couldn’t give him the answer he wanted. She had decided to be honest—she wanted to earn his trust, and that meant revealing the truth.

“Eva said both of them possessed Monica’s body. They were distressed and anxious, and not long after, in search of a way to survive… they died.”

“How… how did they die?”

“The novel didn’t describe in detail how Monica died. It only said she died after the divorce. So, she either took her own life or died in some kind of incident.”

“That’s why you’re saying your life will be in danger if our divorce becomes public.”

“Exactly. That’s why I tried to delay the divorce until I could find a way back. But the only way back is if this world ends in a happy ending—or in total destruction. One or the other.”

“Eva said that?”

“Yes.”

“What do you want? For this world to end happily? Or for it to be destroyed?”

“I want a happy ending.”

“Does that happy ending include a world where humans with demon blood like us aren’t discriminated against?”

“Maybe… yes. Princess Taylor said so. She said that if she became the Emperor, she would blur the lines of discrimination and give equal opportunity to everyone—man or woman, whether they had demon blood or not.”

Monica carefully finished her response and looked at Liam.

He seemed lost in thought but still tracked her every movement, as if making sure she was still real.

Slowly, Liam asked again.

“I don’t want you to die. And I don’t want all of us to suffer either.”

“Then… can’t you fully trust me and help me? I heard you went to the temple today.”

“…Yes. But it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you.”

“Then can I believe that you do trust me completely now?”

Liam gave a small nod. Right now, he wanted to believe her words more than the high priest’s.

Monica then handed him her notebook, showing him a word written in a foreign script.

“We need to see if this word from the Daeguk language shows up on your body. So, take off your shirt.”

“Right now? All of a sudden?”

“It’s important.”

Caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic, Liam sighed. Why did this new topic involve taking off his clothes?

He hadn’t even showered after coming back from outside.

He was about to suggest doing it later, but seeing Monica’s desperate and determined eyes, he began to move reluctantly.

When he finally took off his shirt, Monica inspected his body in the mirror like a detective on a mission.

Not seeing any writing on his upper body, she spoke seriously.

“…Could the letters be on your lower body instead? There’s nothing on your upper half.”

Liam took a step back, coughing awkwardly.

“Ahem… Sujeong, I don’t think so. I haven’t felt any pain or itchiness down there.”

“I’d still like to confirm.”

Monica took a step forward.

Startled, Liam quickly stepped back and raised his arms in defense.

“Please… calm down.”

His voice trembled as he spoke, and Monica tilted her head, confused.

“Wait a moment.”

As she reached out, Liam stepped back again, now against the wall. Monica looked at him with a puzzled expression and picked up her notebook and pen.

“I’ll write another word. Come closer. Why are you so far away?”

Monica wrote the word ‘Sujeong’ in Hangul. At that moment, Liam let out a breath of relief and slowly stepped closer to her.

Suddenly, he felt a tingling sensation on his shoulder and saw the word appear.

“Sujeong! My shoulder!”

“Oh! It’s showing up now.”

He looked in the mirror and recognized the characters. He turned to Monica and asked,

“What does it say? I saw the same letters yesterday.”

“It’s my name, Sujeong.”

She showed him the notebook with the name.

“Don’t be surprised, and watch my hand now.”

She pressed her finger firmly on the name in the notebook, and the letters started to fade until they disappeared into the air.

Liam’s pupils widened. He stood frozen, unable to believe what he had just seen.

“Liam, check your shoulder again. Are the letters gone?”

His stiff neck creaked as he forced himself to move and looked at his shoulder.

“How is this possible!”

“I just discovered this today. Looks like Daeguk’s language doesn’t stay on your body. Now… shall we talk about what to do next?”

Liam nodded as if hypnotized. That night, their conversation continued until dawn.

(The chapter continues with Monica meeting Gonzales, a loyal aide from Taylor’s faction, and an increasingly tense confrontation with Angela, which escalates into a dangerous situation. The final scenes of the chapter feature a growing closeness between Monica and Liam as they navigate their fake courtship, ending with a visit to a bookstore where Liam reads poetry aloud to her, revealing both his affection and deeper regret over their past.)

Monica hurried to prepare to meet Lady Gonzales. She had a sharp intuition that the visit must have been ordered by Princess Taylor.

‘Princess Taylor is very business-savvy.’

She probably guessed that the food Monica sent was a new, unnamed strawberry dish.

The capital has distinct seasons, making it suitable for fruit farming, unlike many outer territories. Monica imagined Taylor would have made this connection.

If her guess was right…

‘Then Princess Taylor would want to commercialize it.’

But this shouldn’t be approached like just any ordinary business endeavor. A bigger picture needed to be drawn and carefully planned.

With that in mind, Monica picked up the jar of strawberry jam from her desk and headed confidently toward the annex.

By the time she arrived, teacups and bread had already been set in the reception room, brought in by the butler, and Lady Gonzales was nervously waiting, unable to sit still.

“Duchess!”

As soon as Monica entered the room, Gonzales stood up and quickly approached her.

“Why are you standing? Why didn’t you sit and wait?”

“The Merchant Lord…”

Monica raised a hand to interrupt her.

“Let’s sit and talk.”

Realizing she had been overly excited, Gonzales swallowed dryly and slowly began to speak again.

“The Merchant Lord asked me to quickly find out from you what kind of food it is.”

“Did she also ask how it’s made?”

“…Yes.”

Monica smiled at Gonzales, who still hadn’t sat down.

“No need to rush. Have a seat. I’ve got more I want to show you.”

Only then did Gonzales sit on the sofa and looked at Monica with eager eyes, waiting for her to speak.

Monica casually picked up a piece of bread from the table, spread some strawberry jam on it, and handed it to Gonzales.

“Try it. I realized yesterday I didn’t explain how to eat it, so I wanted to today.”

Gonzales took it without hesitation and tasted it.

“Duchess! It’s delicious.”

“If the Merchant Lord asked about the jam, it must be because she’s interested in commercializing it, right?”

“Yes! She said it could become a great product.”

“I’d like to meet with her to discuss it—do you think that’s possible?”

“She said it’s best to avoid meeting until after the royal event… In case something goes wrong…”

Gonzales trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

If anything went wrong, Monica would be blamed first, and Gonzales second.

That’s why it wasn’t wise for Monica to meet with Princess Taylor or the merchant group directly.

Besides, rumors about her and Liam were still circulating in high society.

After thinking for a moment, Monica spoke again.

“Then I’ll write a brief letter for you to deliver. I’ll also explain it to you so you can relay it accurately.”

She brought out some paper and a pen, seemingly prepared, and wrote a short letter in the imperial language addressed to Princess Taylor:

〈Production will be handled by the Orsay Duchy, but distribution should be managed by the Riat Merchant Guild.〉

A moment later, she handed the letter to Gonzales and explained.

“The jam production will be done with the help of the duchy’s women. Please tell her that if this succeeds, she’ll gain a powerful new ally.”

As Monica spoke, Gonzales’s eyes widened at the mention of ‘Duchess’s wives and a rising power.’

She took a deep breath and said, “Duchess…”

“Yes. You’re a smart woman, so I know you understand. Just explain everything to her. We’ll need her support to make this work.”

Suddenly, Gonzales dropped to her knees.

“I’m sorry.”

“What? Why all of a sudden, Lady Gonzales?”

“I’ve been suspicious of you all this time. I’m sorry.”

Monica stepped closer to her. She understood—it was a natural suspicion. She wasn’t offended.

She just hoped Gonzales would now believe in her and help her. And Monica hoped Gonzales would come to believe that reality could change.

“Let’s work together. If we try, we can change things.”

“There was a time when I vaguely hoped the Merchant Lord’s dream would come true. But eventually, I thought she was confusing reality and fantasy. So I gave up hope and just did my best to support her.”

Gonzales pulled a handkerchief from her chest and wiped her cheek, then continued.

“But being with you, Duchess… I feel like her dream could become real. Thank you.”

A warm, quiet wave of emotion swept through both their hearts.

“Let’s not give up. Just a little more effort.”

Monica helped her to her feet.

“You should hurry back to her.”

“Oh, and one last thing—could you ask if the Merchant Guild can supply glass jars for the jam? Tell her it’s a kind of investment.”

“Yes, I will.”

If Taylor understood Monica’s intentions, dozens of jars would likely be delivered to the duchy right away.

Gonzales bowed and quickly lifted her skirt, hurrying out of the annex to deliver the news as fast as possible.

Monica watched her retreating figure until it became a dot in the distance, then let out a small sigh.

‘Now only the hardest part is left.’

How would she convince the duchess’s wives? She pondered.

What she had learned from her conversation with Gonzales was that acting differently alone wasn’t enough to gain full trust.

The duchess’s wives would continue to doubt her and secretly be on guard.

‘If that’s the case… I really didn’t want to do this, but…’

She wasn’t sure if she could act the part well. But there was no way to know without trying. Monica rose and headed to her room.

“After you pass the warehouse, you’ll see an outdoor kitchen delivering food to the stadium. Beyond that, you’ll find the waiting area for the nobles’ carriages.”

The attendant finished his directions, turned around, and gradually disappeared from sight.

Monica repeated his words silently, trying to steady her breathing. With the reality that she had to finish everything within an hour, she moved her feet again toward the warehouse.

Workers and attendants were busily carrying food, and Monica managed to blend in with them unnoticed, walking past the warehouse and getting closer to the stadium.

‘Wow.’

Suddenly, she caught sight of the outdoor kitchen inside a large blue tent. The sheer size of it left her mouth agape.

The tent was large enough to hold around a hundred adults, with all sides open so the inside was visible. Several wooden tables stretched within, where chefs and workers prepared meats and vegetables. Well-dressed attendants on the other side were busily preparing to serve the food.

She stopped walking for a moment and realized that her heart wasn’t racing from exertion but from fear—of being discovered.

‘I have to act like the other workers, the ones mixed with demon blood.’

Monica lowered her head and looked around carefully. She quickly faced a problem she hadn’t considered.

‘I can’t check their eye colors.’

Her gaze fell on the shabby clothes she was wearing. Then she glanced around again, looking for other workers in similar outfits.

Not far away, she spotted workers moving with their heads down. Instinctively, she felt the urge to mimic them.

Monica lowered her head further and naturally blended into the workers performing menial labor.

‘This should keep me from being suspected, right?’

As if fate were on her side, she successfully passed through the tent and headed toward the carriage waiting area.

“Phew.”

A short sigh of relief escaped her lips.

Now, all she had to do was wait for Madam Irez’s carriage, which was supposed to arrive late for the polo match.

But her moment of relief was short-lived. Her uneasiness returned as she realized that Madam Irez’s carriage had already arrived.

Monica’s heart began to pound again.

She turned to look for the coachman, but he was nowhere to be seen—perhaps he had already gone elsewhere.

‘Then I have to head to the stadium entrance!’

She bit her lip and began to run toward the entrance. She was never good at physical activity, yet here she was, forced to run.

She ran with all her strength, her legs growing weak.

“Simon, you said you’d be late! Why are you already here? I shouldn’t have trusted you!”

She grumbled in a low voice as her stamina quickly reached its limit.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her breath came out in hot gasps.

Just as her muscles were screaming in pain, she saw a noblewoman walking alone under a parasol—not toward the stadium but in the opposite direction.

‘That way is…’

The royal lodging prepared for visiting nobles during this event.

‘No!’

If that woman was indeed Madam Irez, Monica had to catch her before she entered.

Dressed as a royal laborer, entering the nobles’ lodgings could cause unpredictable and dangerous consequences.

‘I can’t make this more complicated.’

Driven by fear, Monica acted before thinking. She ran up to the woman to check her face and blocked her path.

Only then did she hear the rapid pounding of her own heart in her ears.

“What is this?”

A dry, irritated cough was followed by the woman slightly tilting her parasol to reveal her face.

‘Madam Irez!’

The middle-aged woman with soft sky-blue hair was indeed Madam Irez.

Thank heavens.

Monica was too out of breath to respond immediately. She bent slightly at the waist, gasping, and held out her hand with all her might.

“M-Madam, huff, the Marquis said… if there was a letter… I should retrieve it.”

Madam Irez tilted her parasol further to get a better look at Monica’s face, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she examined her from head to toe.

“I’ve never seen you before…”

She trailed off, studying the bent Monica carefully.

“You don’t have anything for me first?”

“He said there wasn’t. Just to come get anything you had for him.”

Now breathing more steadily, Monica answered quickly with a plausible lie.

Apparently, it irritated Madam Irez, whose face contorted with displeasure.

“You think I’ll just let this go!”

With a huff, Madam Irez pulled an envelope from her chest and threw it to the ground.

Monica quickly bent to pick it up. Madam Irez adjusted her parasol and began walking away, her angry, huffing breaths fading into the distance.

She was headed toward the lodging.

“Phew.”

Monica sighed in relief.

Madam Irez’s gaze had been so sharp that if she had taken a closer look, Monica would have surely been exposed.

She quickly slipped the letter into a hidden pocket inside her skirt.

The contents could wait. First, she had to get back safely.

It was a close call, but she had done it.

As she whispered to herself, ‘See? It wasn’t so hard,’ raindrops suddenly began to fall from the sky.

Dark clouds had replaced the clear blue sky.

A strange sense of foreboding gripped her as she hurried back the way she came from the carriage station.

Just like when she was Sujeong, Monica’s body was not very fit. Her legs grew weak, and she slowed down.

‘There’s still time.’

She wasn’t trying to be lazy—she simply couldn’t run anymore. So she walked slowly.

That may have been the mistake.

Just as she was about to pass through the tent again, someone roughly grabbed the back of her neck.

“You filthy thing! What are you doing not working? It’s raining! Hurry and move the food and kitchen supplies indoors!”

A rough hand shoved her forward. The force sent her stumbling to the muddy ground.

“Ah!”

Monica let out a small cry as she fell. She quickly looked up to assess the situation.

A burly head maid stood over her with arms crossed, glaring down at her.

“You were watching the polo match, weren’t you? Like a rat! Move it!”

At once, the maid raised the whip in her hand and struck Monica’s arm.

Whack!
Whack! Whack!

The leather whip lashed her shoulder, forearm, and finally her wrist.

“Ah! Ah!”

Sharp pain made her scream as the rain grew heavier.

Ssshhhhh.

The sudden downpour soaked her hair and streamed down her cheeks.

“Ugh.”

Her eyes welled with tears from the pain. She had thought things were going too smoothly.

“The rain’s getting worse! Move faster!”

Monica rubbed her reddening arm and bit her lip. The head maid raised her whip again.

Monica’s survival instincts kicked in before she could even think—she jumped to her feet.

“Hurry up!”

To prevent the workers from slacking off, the head maid and other managers kept shouting orders.

The workers, carrying pots, ladles, bowls, and cutting boards, rushed through the rain toward the indoor kitchen.

At that moment, Monica still believed she could find a chance to escape while blending in.

But things didn’t go her way.

‘What do I do now?’

A growing unease filled her heart. She had known this wouldn’t be easy, but she hadn’t expected it to be dangerous.

She had been naïve.

This wasn’t just any task—it was about uncovering the Empress’s weakness.

It was never going to be easy.

She tried to subtly sneak out while moving supplies between the tent and the kitchen.

But every time she looked around to assess her chances, her eyes met those of the head maid.

It was clear the maid was keeping close watch to prevent her from escaping again. Monica licked her dry lips.

Escaping now seemed impossible.

Her muscles screamed from carrying heavy loads, and her back throbbed in pain.

She glanced up again.

Their eyes met.

Then came a sharp warning.

“The polo match is probably canceled due to the rain, so don’t even think of running! Next time, it won’t just be the whip! Now get inside and organize the kitchen!”

Monica’s shoulder and wrist, already bruised from the whip, trembled. The whip had hurt—but worse was being threatened with even more.

She glanced at the open door of the indoor kitchen to check the weather.

Ssshhhhh.

The rain poured harder, pounding the ground.

‘This is bad!’

If the match was canceled, she had to get back quickly. But with the head maid watching her, she wasn’t sure if she could escape.

Her gaze drifted to the hidden pocket in her skirt.

‘If I can’t make it back in time… should I write in Korean in the notebook and ask for help, like Liam suggested?’

She didn’t mind asking for help—but she had been so confident just yesterday, insisting the mission wasn’t dangerous.

‘How pathetic would I look if I gave up now?’

Stubborn pride seized her.

There was still time. The plan could still work.

‘It hasn’t been an hour yet.’

But contrary to her hopes, the head maid lined up Monica and a few other women.

“Ah.”

Another sharp push from behind made Monica yelp.

“You were caught sneaking off to watch the match! With your filthy demon blood and black eyes! Go clean out the storage room today!”

Monica’s mind blanked.

‘Storage room?’

Where was that? Panic overwhelmed her.

As a noble, she had roamed the palace freely, but the servants’ routes were different.

If she headed to the storage area now, she might never make it back to the crown prince’s palace alone.

She forced her mind to work.

‘If I’m going to escape, now’s the time.’

This was her chance. If she didn’t take it, she’d have to ask Liam for help.

Her thoughts jumbled again.

The women next to her received their orders and began walking off.

“Follow us.”

One woman nudged Monica’s shoulder, and her body moved instinctively.

‘…I should be running.’

She kept scanning her surroundings the whole way. But the head maid was always within arm’s reach, whip in hand.

Monica bit her lip and followed.

They were heading farther away from the stadium, toward a large food storage building hidden in a palace corner.

At least they handed her a tattered umbrella, so she could grip her skirt in one hand and the umbrella in the other.

‘Please… don’t let the letter get wet.’

If the ink smudged, she would have to go through all this again.

As if mocking her, the sky poured heavier rain.

Soon, the women stopped in front of the large warehouse.

“Get inside!”

The building resembled a massive warehouse. Inside, food supplies were piled as tall as grown men.

“Finish organizing this today!”

Without explaining how, the head maid issued her command and walked out.

‘It’s not too late. I need to run.’

Monica instinctively turned toward the door.

Clunk!

A loud noise froze her in place.

“They locked the door. No one can escape.”

A nearby woman spoke as if it were nothing.

The others lowered their heads and began sorting items in silence.

‘Ah…’

A long sigh escaped Monica’s lips.

This was really bad.

She’d have to stay here until morning.

Outside, rain beat against the windows like her anxious heartbeat.