The next morning…
Nerys opened her eyes.
Everything was as it had been.
"How? Why didn't I die?"
She looked into the mirror, then slammed her forehead against the wall in a desperate attempt to wake from the "dream."
Mary rushed to her side, panicked.
"Miss! What are you doing?!"
But the greater shock came after that, when Mary told her:
"We won't rush breakfast today. The Marquis left early. He received news of Duke Dysshard's death last night."
Nerys froze.
Duke Dysshard …?
So… today was the day the firstborn of the Disehard family had died, and the title would pass to the second son.
Mary spoke of the family's decline:
"We haven't heard from the Duchy of Dysshard since the younger son was imprisoned. This family was powerful—so powerful that even the Emperor worried from them. Even though he took over their iron and steel factories, their influence remained strong. But now, with the Duke's death, the title will return to their grandfather… their days seem numbered."
Nerys knew the truth. She whispered:
"No, Mary. This family will remain strong, and even grow stronger. After the Emperor pressured them and took their factories to ease the sentence of the second son, who was involved in an attempt on the Prince's life… that son will return for revenge. He will dominate the empire's economy, and after avenging himself on the Emperor, he will come for my father."
She stepped into the garden, struggling to breathe.
"Am I going to live this miserable life all over again?
Will I return to Cecile… and Henry… and that miserable marriage… and then die?
A familiar voice came from behind:
"Is the young lady alright?"
She turned.
Henry.
She remember, It was the first day she had ever met him—the very day Duke Dysshard had died.
She regarded him with a coldness she barely recognized in herself.
"Hello… Mr. Henry."
"Call me Henry. Your father must have told you about me."
He bowed politely.
"Henry, son of Count René."
She nodded.
"Pleasure to meet you."
Then, forcing her voice to sound natural, she said politely:
"I'm sorry, Mr. Henry, but something urgent has come up. You may go see my sister, Cecile."
He stood there, stunned, while she turned toward the library.
The only place that could collect the fragments of her past life.
She sat between the shelves, hugging her knees, whispering:
"You're back, Nerys… back into all the pain you wished to escape."
She remembered Henry, her only love who had never truly been hers.
She remembered how his heart had always followed Cecile alone, just like everyone else's.
"He was originally Cecile's study companion, but she rejected him politely. Yet he didn't give up—he offered to be my playmate just to stay close to her. And I, foolish as I was, was happy to finally have a friend, and I even loved him truly."
She smiled bitterly.
"And here is Cecile… playing with his heart. When Duke Dysshard proposed to her, she only cared about his power and influence, plotting slyly to surpass the future Empress. She ignored the rumors—his imprisonment, his status as a war monster. And in the end, that same fiancé, the one she flaunted, killed me and my father."
Nerys stood behind the library window, watching Cecile tilt her head slightly toward Henry, laughing that laugh everyone mistook for innocence… while Nerys knew the truth.
Cecile's laughter was a weapon.
A beautiful face hiding a cold intellect, capable of playing with hearts without a flicker of emotion.
Nerys muttered to herself:
"Here we go again… back to the beginning."
She turned away from the window, feeling a heavy weight on her chest.
Memories flowed… but these were not the memories of a child.
They were the memories of a woman who had died.
She sat among the bookshelves, leaning her head against the wall.
"I won't fall into the same trap… I won't let anyone control me again."
Yet fear crept into her heart.
What awaited her?
Would she be forced into the same marriage?
Would everything repeat as before?
Would Henry return to Cecile?
Would Cecile betray her?
Would she be killed again?
She closed her eyes tightly to stop the torrent of memories.
She grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, jotting down everything she had endured—from Cecile's betrayal, to Henry abandoning her, to her father forcing her to marry Baron Hayden… that man who had turned her life into a living hell.
She had thought life in her father's mansion was miserable… until she went to her husband Baron Hayden's estate.
There, she had truly known hell, living in daily pain… up until her final moment when the Duke killed her.
Gripping the paper, she returned to the window, her gaze now filled with strength, and spoke in restrained fury:
"I won't let you torture me again. If I live this life once more, I won't live it like before. I will reclaim what is mine, and I will no longer remain a shadow."
She moved toward the library door as she continued her vow:
"And I will never let myself die like that again."
In the evening, after her father returned, she went straight to his study.
The first step was to approach her father—understand why they had been killed by Duke Dysshard, gain his trust, and prevent Cecile from stealing her place again.
She stood before his door, thinking:
"What I am about to tell him is something I realized when I was thirteen, six months from now, and I shared it with Cecile, who ran to my father claiming it was her own idea."
Her father's assistant allowed her in, looking at her with indifference, asking:
"Speak quickly. I'm busy."
Nerys smiled.
"Father, I have something important to discuss—it concerns the war."
A victorious thrill surged within her.
"I had anticipated this before, but too late, so my father's actions barely survived the crisis. Now, knowing exactly when the war will begin, I will make this Marquis one of the greatest financiers of the Empire's army."
Her father looked at her, intrigued.
"War?"
"Yes. It won't be long before the war with Lithvia begins. You know the late Duke Dysshard was in charge of negotiations. His death is the first step toward starting the war."
Her father smiled mockingly.
"What does a young girl like you know about politics? After Duke William's death, negotiations will be slightly affected, but the elder Duke Arthur will handle it. Nothing will happen for over three years."
"You're wrong, Father. That's what the Imperial Palace wants everyone to believe. They work hard on negotiations, but the truth is the Emperor himself is preparing to wage war on the Lithevians because he despises them. The border conflicts haven't settled, especially after the Emperor seized Duke Disehard's iron and steel factories."
Nerys paused to gauge her father's reaction. Finding him silent, she continued:
"Seizing such a factory is the Duchy's lifeline. For the Emperor, it's not just an apology for the second son's actions—it's to ensure control over Deshard's influence and prepare weapons for war. From the speed of the Palace's actions, I predict the war will begin in a year and a half. We must prepare as well."
He looked at her with a strange expression:
"Why are you so confident about this?"
"If you investigate what I've told you and observe the Palace's movements, you'll see I am correct."
"And if confirmed, how do you expect us to prepare?"
"I already know my father's thoughts on this. I also have personal ideas to increase his wealth and dominance during the war. I will share them once you confirm my information."
"Very well. You may leave for now. I will summon you once I'm sure."
"Yes, Father. Excuse me now."
Nerys left her father's study feeling triumphant.
His attention and questions meant she had succeeded in her first step—approaching him without Cecile's shadow.
Now, she had to investigate further the link between her father and the Duchy of Dysshard, and the extent of his involvement with that family.
After collapsing onto her small bed, she muttered to herself:
"Father thought the Duke would remain imprisoned for years, but he didn't realize that his old debts would come back to haunt him, and he would be killed by someone called Dysshard."