Chapter 2

“To think I must witness this dreadful scene a second time.”

Rebecca trembled, clenching her fists until the crimson dress crumpled helplessly in her grasp.

The wedding was, infuriatingly, beautiful.

Alicia and Zephrin’s ceremony was simple, yet for that very reason it seemed all the more romantic.

The Valaria coast was a beloved resort destination. Since it belonged to the Duchy of Johannes, anyone wishing to spend time there usually had to undergo a complicated process.

But the Devonshire family owned a grand estate on the shore.

Thanks to that, Zephrin and Alicia could hold their secret, picturesque wedding without interruption.

The problem was that this very place had once been Rebecca and Zephrin’s honeymoon retreat.

As if mocking her, the spring wind blew. When Alicia’s veil fluttered in the breeze, Zephrin smiled faintly.

“Under the blessing of the goddess Dephria, I now declare these two as husband and wife.”

No cheers erupted.

The few guests invited clapped reluctantly, their expressions stiff.

Their eyes were not on the newlyweds, but on the Count’s first wife, Rebecca.

She ignored the stares and glared at Zephrin. He moved his lips just enough for her to see.

Smile.

The moment she saw his commanding expression, Rebecca came to her senses.

She truly had returned. To a time before her child was stolen.

No, further still. To before the child even existed, before her husband had completely destroyed her.

Rebecca forced a smile, just as he demanded.

If she had returned, then perhaps she could change the outcome.

She lifted her hands and clapped slowly, a cold applause offered to the fragile happiness of the two people she would soon shatter.

“Thank you for attending. Honestly, I thought you would not come, Lady Rebecca.”

Now dressed in a pink gown for the reception, Alicia approached with a shy smile.

Rebecca, seated alone and drinking glass after glass of wine, slowly turned her gaze on her.

Everyone held their breath, straining to hear the exchange between the first and second wives.

“Alicia…”

Rebecca recalled the very first time she had met her.

It had been a bright day, much like today.

How Alicia had managed to slip past the strict guards into the Count’s garden was still a mystery.

Along Rebecca’s usual walking path lay a girl, collapsed and frail.

Her appearance was wretched, nearly starved to death.

Rebecca had brought the girl inside and nursed her with care.

When the girl regained her senses, she introduced herself as Alicia.

“Lady Rebecca! You are my savior!”

Rebecca could never forget the first time she saw Alicia fully recovered.

Her cheeks, plump with health, blushed a tender pink like spring petals.

Her long lavender hair cascaded in soft waves, and her deep violet eyes shimmered with a fragility that made one want to embrace her.

She was beautiful, like a fairy said to be born from the laughter of an ancient goddess.

And she possessed something Rebecca had always longed for but never had — a natural sweetness that drew love effortlessly.

Rebecca’s mother had warned her.

That girl is dangerous. A kindness given without thought may become poison that kills you.

But Rebecca had already lost her heart to Alicia.

Before becoming Countess, Rebecca had many friends.

But after the wedding, those friends slowly drifted away, without clear reason, until none remained.

Left alone in the grand Devonshire mansion, she lived in constant loneliness.

That was why she cherished Alicia’s voice calling her name with warmth.

She loved the way Alicia chattered cheerfully like a sparrow.

Rebecca grew completely enchanted by her.

In time, she even brought the girl into the household as her maid.

And in return, Alicia served Rebecca with unwavering devotion.

So it was that Alicia became indispensable to her.

A year passed.

On Alicia’s birthday, Rebecca prepared a table herself, laden with food.

And that day, everything changed.

“I… I cannot eat, Lady Rebecca.”

It was morning sickness. Alicia claimed the child was Zephrin’s.

The world collapsed.

Even so, Rebecca could not bring herself to resent Alicia. She believed Zephrin had seduced the innocent girl.

Summoning her courage, she confronted him.

But Zephrin only mocked her.

“My innocent wife. Surely you know what happens when a beautiful man and woman meet? It is instinct. Nature’s law. Neither I nor Alicia are to blame. The fault lies with you, for leaving such a lovely woman before me.”

He relentlessly twisted everything into Rebecca’s fault.

Having been trapped in his grasp for so long, she slowly began to believe him.

In more than ten years of marriage, she and Zephrin had never conceived a child.

Naturally, the family welcomed Alicia, who bore the heir, as Zephrin’s second wife.

Rebecca sank into years of self-blame, convinced everything was her doing.

She lived consumed by self-loathing.

Until the day it all ended.

Now, Zephrin’s eyes turned toward her.

Rebecca set down her glass and forced a smile.

She still had to play the perfect Countess of Devonshire.

“Now that we are family, it is only right.”

Rebecca embraced Alicia warmly.

The guests gasped in admiration at the touching sight.

They offered praises to Zephrin, who now had two beautiful wives.

Zephrin smiled in satisfaction.

Then the bride and groom began their dance.

Watching the two of them spin gracefully, Rebecca felt nausea rise.

She wanted nothing more than to flee that wretched place.

“Please excuse me.”

Claiming she felt unwell, Rebecca hurriedly called for her carriage.

In her previous life, she had endured the humiliation until the end of the banquet.

But she could not suffer it twice.

She knew Zephrin would scold her for leaving early, but she no longer cared.

The ladies of society saw her off with pitying expressions.

“If you ever face hardship, Lady Rebecca, please call upon us.”

Though they did not say it outright, it was clear they too found this marriage distasteful.

But their husbands all served Zephrin, and Rebecca knew they could not stand by her openly.

“Thank you.”

She memorized each of their faces and gave a brief nod before stepping into the carriage.

As the wheels rolled swiftly, Rebecca dismissed Alice to another carriage. She wanted to be alone.

“Ah!”

She buried her face in a cushion and screamed, a furious cry that tore from her throat until her voice broke.

Even so, the suffocating weight on her chest did not ease.

Her lipstick was smeared, but she had no will to fix it.

She had returned to the past.

Yet it still did not feel real. Her head swam, unable to tell what was dream and what was reality.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Rebecca pressed her hand against her flat stomach.

The memory of carrying a child for ten months was vivid.

She had only raised the baby for a few years, but already her heart ached with longing.

She missed the softness of her child’s cheeks, the sweet scent of their skin, the tiny hands and feet that wriggled in her arms.

And with that came the image of Alicia holding her precious child.

Rebecca bit her lips hard.

Perhaps this was for the best.

Now, the child did not exist. There was no risk of being raised as Zephrin’s.

That truth was her only comfort.

Rebecca gazed out the window. The carriage jolted more than usual today.

She did not know why she had returned.

But one thing was certain.

Rebecca clenched her fists, her blue eyes still glistening with tears.

“Now it is your turn to be broken, Zephrin Devonshire.”

On that same night, Duke Julian Johannes, newly returned from the battlefield, strolled leisurely along the coast of Valaria.

The sea path was among his favorite walks.

It was peaceful. A faint smile touched his lips.

Just then, a carriage came rushing down the narrow road ahead.

Noticing him, the driver slowed.

Julian, in good spirits, quietly stepped aside.

The coachman tipped his hat in thanks.

As the carriage passed close enough to brush his sleeve, Julian glanced through the window.

Inside sat a woman, her makeup smeared, her eyes fixed unblinking ahead.

She burned as fiercely as the scarlet gown she wore.

Her presence struck him with such force that curiosity sparked within him. His gaze dropped to the crest upon the carriage.

The emblem of the Devonshire family.

Julian’s eyes widened as he watched the carriage disappear.

“Rebecca?”

“Ah yes, that must have been the famous Countess herself,” said his steward, Croah, panting to keep pace.

“Famous?”

“Ah, of course. You have been away at war, so you would not know. The Count of Devonshire has taken a second wife. Society has been in an uproar.”

“He took a mistress? But the Countess is still young, is she not?”

“She is. Not yet even thirty. But who can fathom the affairs of a marriage? I heard today the wedding was held here, on the coast of Valaria.”

“What did you say?”

“That she is not yet thirty?”

“No. That a wedding was held here, in my domain?”

“Yes… at the Devonshire estate by the shore.”

“Croah.”

The steward swallowed hard at the frigid tone.

Julian’s black eyes glimmered as they slowly shifted to gold.

“When I left, I entrusted you with my land. And yet you allowed such filth? In the place I hold most dear?”

“I… I could not stop them. They claimed it was their own estate. And it was the Count of Devonshire…”

Julian gave no answer, only a cold glare.

The steward shivered as sweat drenched his back.

His master’s eyes glowing gold was a deadly warning.

“I… I will see to it at once.”

“Of course you will. Burn it to the ground or tear it apart. Make certain they never set foot here again. Better still, see that they never enter this coast at all. You have until tomorrow.”

Croah nearly screamed aloud.

Of all times, why did that carriage have to pass tonight? What cursed misfortune.

Meow.

As Julian seethed, a black cat emerged from the shadows, its yellow eyes gleaming like flames.