"So, I mean… post-traumatic stress! It's like a kind of post-traumatic stress. Haha."
"Post-traumatic… stress?"
"After going through a major accident, sometimes your memory just cuts off, or you go half-crazy—things like that happen. It's surprisingly common."
As if it were nothing, I gave a small shrug.
"So you're saying you really don't remember. Nothing at all?"
"Yes, that's about the size of it. Hahaha. Maybe because your face is a perfect 100, your comprehension is a perfect 100 too, Duke!"
With a bright voice, I hurriedly raised a thumbs-up. Of course, I threw in a smile as a bonus. After all, they say you can't spit at a smiling face.
"What, 100? And why… are you smiling like that? Is what I'm saying amusing?"
'Oh dear. I guess the old saying was wrong.'
As if displeased, the duke growled, furrowing his brow. The deeper the crease between his eyebrows became, the harder it was to hide his agitation.
"Ah, oops! I was just talking to myself. I do that sometimes. Haha. You don't need to worry about it. I'm full just from looking at your face."
Not even I knew what I was saying anymore—just a stream of nonsense. I gave a small pouty smile. Of course, my mouth was smiling, but inside I felt like crying.
Now that things had turned out like this, getting information through Shas ha was impossible. Which meant I'd have to face it head-on.
"Oh, right! I have a question."
At that, the duke's gaze turned to me with interest.
"What is it?"
"So how far has our divorce progressed?"
"Oh, Lord."
At my question, Shas ha murmured softly from beside us.
For a moment, Duke Randolph's eyes shook violently. Unlike his earlier arrogance, a sense of futility settled over his face.
"Ha… Do I really have to answer such a ridiculous question?"
I blinked and nodded at his words. He let out a deep sigh and, sounding resigned, replied,
"Fortunately, the divorce hasn't been finalized. It's still in the negotiation stage."
"That's a relief. I almost let a ridiculously handsome man like this slip away right before my eyes."
The truth slipped out in an instant. Watching the duke's face crumple by the second as if he couldn't make sense of me at all, I thought:
I'm sure I've seen this handsome man somewhere before.
'Strange. If he's this handsome, there's no way I would've forgotten him.'
Just as I tilted my head and tried to dig through my hazy memories, a heavy pain struck my head as if I'd been hit.
[Edmund Randolph. Sword master. Warmonger. Cold-blooded. Murderer.]
Titles enough to make anyone's knees tremble buzzed loudly in my mind.
"What? Wait. Mur—murderer…!?"
My startled eyes snapped toward the owner of those memories. They say handsome men live up to their looks—apparently Edmund was no exception to that unchanging rule.
My once-calm lavender eyes trembled rapidly as they tracked Edmund. He slowly met my gaze.
"Seems your memory has returned after all."
Edmund lifted one corner of his lips and spoke with a faintly sardonic smile.
[You, of all people, should have believed me.]
Suddenly, the next scene of the webtoon I had just remembered flashed through my mind. In an instant, the memories I'd forgotten came rushing back.
I knew instinctively. Everything that had resurfaced was connected to the man in front of me.
And that I had become the female lead of a bleak webtoon where everyone ended up stabbed to death.
"Ugh…!"
'Don't tell me I die too?'
A sharp throb pulsed through my head. My body wobbled for a moment, but I quickly steadied myself. My trembling eyes examined the man before me.
'Unbelievable. Even now, he's still handsome.'
Even with life and death hanging in the balance, my body and brain stayed true to their instincts. As I stared at Edmund's handsome face, I thought:
'This is where I'm meant to lie down.'
If I was going to die anyway, spending my final moments beside a ridiculously handsome man wasn't so bad. At the very least, my eyes would be satisfied.
The male lead had been handsome.
Very handsome.
"Ha… I was a successful fangirl."
"What on earth have you been muttering to yourself about this whole time?"
Edmund addressed me as I stood there blankly.
'The drawing is talking.'
Back then and even now, I was hopelessly obsessed with good looks. The grand medieval opening and the world filled with swords and magic had been charming, but what truly made my heart race was the Duke of Randolph's superior beauty.
On the other hand, Edmund was also a man burdened with titles like warmonger, cold-blooded, and murderer.
"Chloe."
"Ah! Yes. Sorry. I was just thinking for a moment."
"Thinking? Did the memories you claimed to have forgotten suddenly flash back?"
"Th-that can't be. I was just saying that. It suddenly came to mind, haha."
At his sharp question, I bit down on my lip and quickly looked away. Beneath the hem of my long skirt, my legs trembled uncontrollably.
Over his devastatingly handsome face, the brutal three syllables—'murderer, murderer'—kept circling in my mind.
Sadly, all I could do right now was secretly take deep breaths and try to calm my racing heartbeat.
'I thought I'd hit the jackpot, but was it actually a total bust? No, no. Even after this crazy woman—on our happy wedding anniversary, no less—pulled something that outrageous, he still didn't kill her, did he?'
He was the sword master who conquered the empire. And what that meant was that even if Edmund killed one more person, it wouldn't be a problem at all.
What's more, I'd been caught after attempting to flee. And yet he had spared my life.
Which meant there was still a sliver of hope.
'He's worth investing in. He has some humanity in him. Surely.'
"Then… what happened that day?"
"That day? You mean the day you tried to run away while I was at the training grounds?"
At the duke's chilling question, I gave an awkward smile and shrugged. Then I continued acting as though I truly didn't know.
"Unfortunately, I can't seem to remember."
"Oh, you can't remember?"
Edmund repeated my words as he rose from his seat. Slowly, he stepped forward, closing the distance that had separated us.
His black-gloved hand brushed beneath my chin. Swallowing dryly at the unnecessary tension, I gulped.
'He's insanely handsome. Lethal. I want him. I want this man.'
Looking at the man before me, that was what I thought. I truly wanted him.
A war fanatic? Cold-blooded? When you hold the title of duke, life is bound to grow a little harsh and rough in the course of your duties.
Of course it would.
Besides, this was the medieval "Age of Blood." And wasn't her devastatingly handsome husband the very hero who had saved the Lavistel Empire from crisis?
On top of that, he was rich. So rich he could spend extravagantly and still have more than enough left over. As a war hero, Edmund had been granted immense spoils and vast lands upon his return. There was a reason the mansion glittered so splendidly.
He had money. He had the body. He had ability. He had the face. This had to be a gift from heaven to someone like me, who had died so meaninglessly.
"So heaven isn't that far away."
"What?"
At Edmund's question, I consciously closed my parted lips and let out a breath filled with emotion.
"No, no. It's nothing."
With a faint smile, I began piecing together the scattered fragments of memory.
Yes. If things had simply continued this way, his life would have been a flowery road—an endlessly bright one at that. He possessed wealth, honor, and power. There was nothing to envy.
But life is never smooth, and heroes are always surrounded by enemies.
Instead of being called the "Returned Hero," words like "blood-crazed murderer" and "war maniac" clung to Edmund's name.
It was true that the number of people he had killed was beyond counting. And it was also undeniable that, much later, worn down by rumors, he had plotted rebellion and seized imperial power.
But the world of the original story had been hopelessly corrupt. Edmund had hated such an emperor and had wanted to change the world.
Not realizing that he himself was rotting in the process.
"I'll clear your name."
'And… I'll help you walk the right path.'
Moved by pity, I impulsively grabbed Edmund's hand. Unlike his usual flawless composure, he flinched and quickly pulled away.
"Suddenly talking about clearing my name…?"
Rubbing the hand I had touched, Edmund furrowed his brow. It was clearly a gesture of rejection, but I failed to notice.
All I could see was a pitiful, sorrowful lone wolf before me.
'How wronged and hurt you must have been.'
I didn't know what the original owner of this body, Chloe, had been thinking when she committed those acts. But at the very least, now that I was the one in control, the story had to change.
"Our child isn't really like that. Right? It wasn't your original intention, was it?"
As soon as I asked, Edmund's expression shifted moment by moment. I stared at him with wide eyes, blinking as though urging him to answer.
"Something seems to be seriously wrong with you."