Chapter 1

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: The Dawn That Wrings Your Neck
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#1

"Arise, Arsinoe."

The creak of a door opening and a dry voice, devoid of any emotion, roused Lucy from her slumber.

When had she fallen asleep?

As she lifted her stiff eyelids and wiggled her fingers, the clatter of chains scraped against her eardrums.

Before she was even fully conscious, a stabbing pain assaulted her from all over.

A hollow laugh escaped her lips, finding it strange that sleep could come even after such brutal torture. Lucy stared down at the chains wound tightly around her wrists, then lifted her head to glare ahead with burning eyes.

In the middle of the filthy prison cell, a dark figure stood with a ramrod-straight back, looking down at her.

The man, who had been silently enduring her gaze, spoke in a jeering tone.

"Your eyes are still sharp. You must be doing quite well, Crown Princess."

"Spare me the title, Your Highness."

She retorted bluntly, and the man let out a deep laugh. It was a bright, charming laugh, not one you would expect from a man who had thrown his own wife in prison.

Biting her lip, Lucy spat out her words as if vomiting them.

"What brings you to such a wretched place?"

"Ah. I came to deliver some good news."

Lucy frowned, staring up at the man intently.

She wanted to read his expression, but the light streaming in from the open door obscured her vision, hiding his features.

But even without seeing, she knew. The man was smiling.

Lucy swallowed dryly and forced her lips apart.

"I don't need to hear it to know. Is it the news that you've finally taken my homeland?"

The sentence began calmly, but by the end, she could not contain the surging sorrow, and her voice trembled.

The man, keenly aware of her emotions, let out a low chuckle.

"My thanks. It was all because you shared its secrets. The royal family's hidden passage led us straight to their residence. That damn General Hyverge gave us some trouble, but we were able to slaughter them with relative ease."

In contrast to the man's relaxed demeanor, the color drained from Lucy's face. At last, she squeezed out a question in a trembling voice.

"My... my mother, what... what happened to her...?"

"Fortunately or unfortunately, I don't know which, but your mother was already dead when we arrived—only her corpse remained. You'll be joining her in the afterlife soon enough, so you two can have a reunion."

"..."

"Hah. Don't tell me you're crying."

The man fiddled with his sleeve and continued with a sneer.

"I thought you were a person utterly devoid of emotion. Does the news of your mother's death make you sad?"

"...How could it?"

It had been foreseen, and at this point, her mother's death mattered little.

What saddened Lucy now was a different matter.

"I am merely grieved by the fact that the same thing is happening all over again."

This was the third time.

Three times, she had been deceived by the Crown Prince and lost her country. And soon, her third death would be waiting.

The first time, she had turned against the Crown Prince who sought to take her country, and was killed. The second time, she had tried to flee from him, and was killed.

...And the third. Now.

She had done everything to please him, even acting as his spy, only to end up like this again.

No matter how she struggled, she could not break the chain of her lives. Across three lives, that long expanse of time, Lucy had opposed him, cooperated with him, and submitted to him, yet she could never escape death.

She tried to swallow her sobs, forcing down the surging emotions, but there was no stopping the tears welling in her eyes. The acrid smell of tears mingled with the stench of her own body and drifted into her nostrils.

Letting the tears flow, she desperately bit down on her lip. Not letting out a wail was the only pride Lucy could cling to now.

"Are you going to kill me?"

There was no answer.

Lucy moved her shackled hand to wipe away her tears. Then, she slowly bent down and prostrated herself at his feet.

"I have one last request, Your Highness... Please, grant this lowly one the mercy of taking my own life."

A flicker of interest appeared in the man's eyes. Lucy continued, her tone growing more desperate.

"A peaceful rest is too much for a woman who sold out her own country. The treasured sword I always carried... please grant me the grace to end this filthy life with a relic of my homeland."

The man, who had been watching Lucy intently, slowly bent down and knelt on one knee.

Long fingers lifted Lucy's chin, and the fresh scent of his perfume, a stark contrast to her stench, brushed past her nose.

"How pitiful. No matter how cruel and cold-blooded I may be, how could I not grant such a small mercy to the woman who was once my wife?"

The hand that traced her torn lips was terribly soft and gentle. The man caressed Lucy's cheek and gestured with his chin to the guard standing nearby.

With a loud clang, a dirty sword was thrown onto the floor. The man stood, dusted off his hands, and glanced at the dagger that had fallen beside her.

"It's that filthy antique you always cherished so much. Well then, farewell, Arsinoe."

Without a second thought, the man turned and left the cell, leaving only the sound of his faint footsteps behind. At the same time, the guards who had been standing by unlocked Lucy's chains and kicked her limp body.

"A traitor asking for favors. How vulgar."

With a final command not to dirty the cell, the guards also left. Left alone, Lucy caught her breath for a long moment before picking up the dagger with a trembling hand.

It was a dagger too small for self-defense and too crude for decoration. Just as the man had said, it was an unsightly dagger that looked like it would be sold for a pittance in a cheap antique shop.

The man had often chided Lucy, asking why she carried around such a filthy object. But Lucy knew the dagger's true worth.

Perhaps, on this vast continent, she was the only one in the world who knew of the dagger's power.

She slid it from its faded sheath and carefully ran a finger along the blade. The endlessly dull, rusted blade seemed to be a reflection of her own will.

"You foolish girl."

A self-mocking laugh burst out at the words that had escaped her lips. In her blurry vision, all that remained was the dagger, a sight she was sick of.

For all that time, she had clung to the man, yet she had failed to conquer him, failed even to save her own life. Though she had prided herself on being clever, the end was always a catastrophe.

She squeezed her eyes shut, letting a tear fall.

Another tear welled up as soon as the last one fell, but Lucy paid it no mind and raised the dagger.

"Truly... truly, this is the last time."

If repeating life only meant repeating this same hell, then there was no point.

This was truly the last time.

If her fourth life turned out the same, she would throw away the dagger and find eternal rest at the man's hands.

She closed her eyes. Her grip on the dagger tightened.

Letting out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh, Lucy plunged the blade into her chest.

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

Arsinoe was born the fifth princess of the Parnas Kingdom.

In truth, the word "princess" was a misnomer. The King of Parnas already had eight sons and four daughters, and with the exception of Lucy, all were children of his official queens. Backed by their mothers' prestige, they proudly bore the titles of prince and princess.

But Lucy's mother was a foreign slave who had been offered to the king. As a result, Lucy grew up being treated not as a princess, but as an extra mouth to feed, a hanger-on to a concubine.

However, such treatment did not cast a shadow over Lucy's childhood. Under the care of her loving mother, Lucy spent a peaceful childhood.

Her life went awry after a plague killed off more than half of her siblings, one after another.

Five sons and four daughters all passed away, leaving Lucy as the royal family's only remaining daughter.

And then, comically, as if it had been waiting for this very moment, an official notice arrived from the Empire.

[In these chaotic times, we propose a marriage to foster peace between your esteemed kingdom and our own.]

Under the pretext of peace, the Empire demanded a princess to become the Crown Prince's third consort.

As a small kingdom, Parnas had no grounds to refuse the Empire's proposal. And so, Arsinoe was sold off to the Empire under the title of a Parnas princess.

At first, she was even excited. To go from being the insignificant daughter of a concubine to suddenly becoming a princess, and then the Crown Prince's woman—there was no greater leap in status.

Though she was merely the third crown princess, in her first life, Lucy had been content with her title and lived a relatively happy life right up until the moment of her death.

But as the same life repeated itself, she grew numb to happiness.

Crown Princess or whatever—to the Lucy who had opened her eyes for the fourth time, that entire sequence of events felt like nothing more than a shackle she had to escape.

And so, the fourth time.

She had returned to the same place again, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I'm... right now..."

Am I alive, not dead?

Lying in bed, Lucy blinked blankly, then slowly raised a hand to examine it.

Short fingers that had not yet finished growing came into view. And her vision was exceptionally clear, her body so light it felt as if it could fly.

Her outstretched hand trembling, Lucy stammered, her lips quivering.

"Again... I've come back again...!"

The voice of a child, full of youthful innocence, spread over the bed like ripples on water.