Chapter 2

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 2

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The moment Iona asked in a tentative voice, his expression hardened.

Before she could even offer any explanation, his hand wrapped around the back of her neck. It was such a brutish gesture that it almost seemed clumsy.

Startled by his sudden action, Iona blinked blankly.

Instead of pressing her further, the man slowly leaned toward her.

His gray eyes, shadowed, were now impossibly close.

Just before their lips met, he hesitated for a moment and warned her.

"Just in case you were wondering, you're not going to die, and this won't be the last time either."

Before she could retort, a soft sensation pressed against her skin. Iona felt his lips tremble slightly against hers.

That was it, though. Even after she'd provoked him by bringing up his mental age, his tongue didn't cross the barrier between them.

'He must have a lover after all.'

In the midst of all this, Iona thought indifferently that he was trying to stay faithful to his lover.

It would be ambiguous whether to say she had experience or not if she were asked about her first kiss in the afterlife. Not that she was even sure an afterlife existed in the first place.

She wasn't without the urge to scold her boring husband, but she was reaching her limit.

Her tongue grew stiff, and her body rigid. Iona could naturally sense that the end was near.

Was it because the death had come so abruptly? Even as she reflected on her past life wondering what regrets she might have, nothing came to mind.

Thinking of how exhausting her life had been, the sleepiness washing over her now almost felt like a deep, restful slumber.

Then again, this might count as a pretty decent death.

At the very least, Iona had a husband who had rushed to save her, risking danger. It wasn't a bad feeling at all.

Even among noblewomen renowned for having married well, few had likely experienced something like this.

Of course, most noblewomen wouldn't find themselves in a situation like this to begin with.

"...Iona?"

The man's face blurred as he called her name.

Sensing something off, he instantly paled and shook her body.

"Iona! Iona Modroff!"

He laid her down on the floor, continuing to call her name.

She wanted to answer him, but only ragged breaths escaped her lips. She hadn't even closed her eyes, yet her vision turned pitch black.

As his voice grew distant, Iona smiled faintly.

If not for the circumstances surrounding them, she and he might have made a pretty decent couple.

"...Me."

"... ."

"Iona!"

"... ."

"Iona Modroff! Are you seriously daring to doze off in front of me right now?!"

At the thunderous command ringing in her ears, Iona snapped her eyes open. An enraged man was glaring fiercely at her, fresh from sleep.

Even in that final moment of clarity before death, she seemed to recall someone yelling at her...

With that thought, Iona looked around in bewilderment.

It was strange.

She had clearly died protecting the Emperor, yet now she was sitting in the Modroff Count Family's study. Her body felt no pain whatsoever—in fact, it was brimming with vitality.

But the strangest thing of all was the man in front of her, who was just as dead as she was.

Iona's face filled with disappointment as she gazed at her father, Hayden, the utter wastrel.

"I guess I really did end up in hell."

"What?"

"Not entirely unexpected. I have too many sins to even dream of heaven. As for Father... well, you're irredeemable trash, so it's only natural."

Iona had committed many crimes under the Emperor's orders.

Even if they were at someone else's behest, she had no intention of denying what she had done.

Having killed so many people, it would have been stranger if she'd gone to heaven.

The only questionable part was how pleasant this hell seemed.

Her father was dead, yet he was living luxuriously in the Modroff estate. If she'd known, she might have let him live out that life he seemed to think was worth dying for.

"Looks like you're enjoying life here quite a bit, though. You've even gotten a rejuvenation."

Iona sneered, twisting her lips.

Hayden stared at her blankly before realizing he'd been mocked, his face flushing red.

Getting worked up over such a mild provocation.

Iona inwardly mocked him, thinking his hot-tempered nature hadn't changed even in death.

As always, Hayden's anger quickly crossed the line. He shot up from his seat and swung his hand at Iona.

"You filthy wench, how dare you...!"

Iona easily caught the brutish hand flying toward her. She then slammed his arm down onto the marble-topped side table.

Hayden's face contorted in pain as his elbow collided with the stone surface.

Looking down at her father, who was groaning and trying to pull away, Iona asked,

"Father, why am I filthy?"

"Ugh, urk... ."

"You're the one who betrayed our family's honor by rolling around with some other woman, so why should an innocent like me hear that word?"

"Ungrateful wretch, after all I've done to raise you—you've finally lost your mind!"

Hayden's face was marred with panic and shock.

Even in this state, he still hadn't shed his old authoritarian attitude.

Iona had endured his injustices for far too long.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say her entire life had been overshadowed by her father's ghost.

She hadn't even been able to choose the lord she served out of loyalty.

Iona was a bastard child, saddled with an irredeemable scumbag of a father who would sell his own young daughter for advancement.

Count Modroff had wanted to curry favor with the future Emperor in advance but also avoid any situation where that connection tripped him up.

In that sense, his illegitimate child—an eyesore—was the perfect gift.

The Count had taken in the bastard daughter because she showed talent in swordsmanship, raising her in seclusion away from prying eyes.

He tempered her through grueling training she could barely endure, starving or beating her if she couldn't keep up. Usually, he did both.

Even an ordinary person pouring every waking hour into practice would naturally achieve remarkable results. And Iona was a once-in-a-generation genius.

Her instructor had been awestruck by her monstrous growth.

Yet he inwardly lamented it, knowing all too well what had been sacrificed for those results.

In exchange for not growing up human, Iona had paid with her humanity.

Back then, she couldn't even distinguish between nurturing and exploitation, affection and hatred, or even happiness and pain.

Even up to the moment she was sold to the Crown Prince, Iona hadn't pitied her own situation. But as time passed, she gradually came to understand what her father had done to her.

Iona whispered lowly,

"Didn't you know? Your sins grew up to become me."

"Eek...! Let go!"

Regaining his senses amid the pain, Hayden gritted his teeth and swung his other arm.

But thanks to her father's "teachings," such pathetic attacks were harder to even pretend to take.

Iona dodged the incoming fist with a slight lean, then slammed his head into the floor.

The man let out a loud groan from the sudden agony.

"Do you know I became the next family head after you? Your poor two children died screaming without even knowing why."

Iona tilted her head to better see the loser's ugly face.

Hayden was struggling to stay composed, but fear he couldn't hide flickered in his eyes.

Was he finally recalling his own moment of death?

But in the next instant, Hayden spat out words utterly different from what Iona expected.

"Wh-what nonsense is that! Do you think you're somebody just because the Crown Prince favors you? You only got to stand by his side because I paved the way!"

"...Crown Prince?"

Iona muttered blankly, loosening her grip on Hayden.