Chapter. 1
“Miss, Sir Alte has arrived.”
“Really? I’ll be out soon.”
“Could you prepare some tea?”
Annie left the room at the gentle request.
As the sound of the door closing echoed, Goyo let out a deep sigh. It was Goyo Rubiette herself who had called for Terio, but that didn’t mean she could remain completely calm.
Wanting to ensure nothing was lacking in her appearance, Goyo looked into the mirror.
Her chestnut hair, which covered her chest, was neatly combed, and her black velvet dress, though not flashy, showed a touch of care. Thanks to her maid’s skill, her makeup was natural without any spots.
Thinking she was ready to go out, Goyo still couldn’t tear her eyes away from the mirror. This wasn’t just today’s issue.
Ever since she got up after being bedridden for three days straight, Goyo had struggled to look away from the mirror. Probably because of lingering attachment.
A round forehead, thick straight eyebrows, and a face that seemed a bit melancholy looked too youthful and rosy for someone approaching thirty.
Not only that. The shadows under her eyes from long-term insomnia, the pale complexion, the hollow cheeks—all the familiar sights had vanished.
The face reflected in the mirror was that of a young lady who had barely reached adulthood, twenty-two-year-old Goyo Rubiette, her past self she thought she would never see again.
* * *
It was Eden, the loyal butler of the Alte family, who brought the Silverbell.
Goyo needed a more effective blood pressure medication than what she regularly took, and Eden brought the Silverbell.
On the surface, that was all there was to it.
To others, the Silverbell was just a highly effective drug, but only Goyo knew it could bring her peace.
Swallowing the Silverbell mixed in wine, Goyo closed her eyes. Death was quieter than Goyo had imagined.
She realized it wasn’t the end when her whole body started burning like a fireball. It was excruciating pain.
More brutal than the severe flu she had after her mother died when she was thirteen, more vicious than the fever she had after the Rubiette family’s annihilation. The heat overturned her entire body, making every place blood flowed feel like it was on fire.
Her whole body was drenched in cold sweat, and her tear-soaked eyes never dried.
She wasn’t dead.
Every time her consciousness returned, seeing the hazy ceiling and shadowy figures, Goyo realized that her wretched life hadn’t ended yet.
Why? Maybe she was found earlier than expected, or the Silverbell’s efficacy was less than hoped, or perhaps the priest arrived early…
After coming up with various hypotheses in her dark consciousness, Goyo stopped thinking.
What does the reason matter?
What mattered was that her suicide had failed, and Goyo Alte had to continue this tedious life once again.
That was a different kind of pain from the physical torment.
It had been five years since the Rubiette family’s annihilation. It meant it was the fifth year since Terio and Goyo’s relationship had become irreparable.
At first, she believed time would heal. Just as Terio had given up and returned when he had feelings for Melissy, she thought his resentment towards her would soften over time.
Not a chance. Her hopeful thoughts shattered effortlessly.
Terio apologized for verbally abusing Goyo, but it was merely a formal apology.
Afterwards, Terio’s behavior grew colder than winter. His tone became harsh, and even their obligatory intimate moments were rough and devoid of warmth.
The Terio Alte Goyo once knew seemed to have been buried with the dead Melissy.
However, Goyo truly resigned herself to everything a little later, after Terio’s anger had subsided.
About a year after Melissy’s death, Terio Alte’s anger slowly abated. He behaved quite gentlemanly, not kind but not rough. He respected her just enough as he should, becoming a stern gentleman.
Seeing the light extinguished in his navy-blue eyes, Goyo finally realized everything was irrevocable.
Goyo Alte had nothing left. She had lost her family, her lover, and even her entire household. Her only friend was Terio from her childhood.
If she had had any goals or dreams to achieve, it might have been slightly better, but Goyo had nothing she wanted to accomplish.
Days where she wouldn’t mind if her breath stopped continued. The only reason she hadn’t hanged herself in this tiresome and desolate life was the little bit of responsibility she still felt.
Goyo knew that neither her marriage to Terio nor Melissy’s death was her fault, but listening to repeated blame could shake even the firmest belief.
The people of the Alte family hated Goyo.
They often sent her sharp looks, sometimes even more piercing than Terio’s indifferent gaze, as if she were a witch tormenting their beloved master. Though they said nothing, their looks were enough.
Even if she wasn’t directly responsible, there might be indirect fault. No, even if she had no fault, did she have the right to die like this?
Terio had lost a lot as well, though not as much as Goyo.
Due to childhood whims, he married someone he didn’t want to, the person he loved married someone else and died by that person’s hand.
Goyo could somewhat imagine Terio’s feelings.
Regardless of whether she was guilty, she felt responsible. As a leading actor in Terio Alte’s tragedy, she couldn’t run away from life just because it was hard.
Marrying Terio was Goyo’s own choice. She had to take responsibility for the outcome of stubbornly choosing what no one wanted.
All the Rubiettes were dead, and it was clear that Goyo survived thanks to the Alte family.
Goyo habitually murmured,
“Until the time comes someday. Until Terio Alte finds another love.”
And fortunately, Terio’s new spring came sooner than expected.
The face that once resembled a frozen wax doll recently had a touch of vitality, and his return times to the mansion grew later.
Seeing people gossiping about Terio’s secret lover, Goyo knew the moment she had been waiting for had finally arrived.
It was a joy that shattered her already broken heart into pieces.
Out of minimum consideration for those left behind, Goyo did not hang herself or jump out the window.
Instead, she chose a more elegant and discreet way. She ensured there wouldn’t be ugly rumors about the Duchess committing suicide due to Terio’s affair.
She aimed for a death that seemed like an unavoidable accident, allowing people to mourn her while smoothly welcoming a new Duchess into the ducal household.
Yes, just like her father and Lady Kazel’s story.
“Miss, are you awake!?”
That was all Goyo wished for, yet the world was cruelly unkind to her.
When her eyelids, which she didn’t want to open, lifted and the blurry human shadows became clear, Goyo stared blankly at her.
“Annie…?”
“Goodness, listen to how cracked your voice is! Here, drink some water first.”
Hadn’t Annie died? On the day the Rubiette family was annihilated, Goyo had heard that everyone working at Rubiette was beheaded.
Because it was treason, even those without blood ties had no place to escape. Just for the trivial reason that they might have seen or helped with something.
With a hand supporting her back, Goyo awkwardly sat up. As lukewarm water touched her parched throat, unknown pain made its presence known.
After a few coughs, Annie, who had offered the water, couldn’t help but fidget nervously.
“Are you alright, miss?”
“…What is going on here?”
Was she alive? If so, why was Annie at Alte?
The flood of unorganized questions was halted by the sound of the door opening.
Despite her confusion, Goyo recognized the familiar footsteps and looked up. The face of the deceased was reflected once again in her brown eyes.
“You’ve woken up.”
“…Father.”
“I heard you had a cold for three days. How is your body feeling?”
The formal concern, devoid of any real worry, sounded all too familiar.
The neatly dressed middle-aged man was undoubtedly Goyo’s father, Koloros Rubiette.
She had heard he was dead. Not just heard—Goyo had seen the Duke of Rubiette’s corpse with her own eyes.
Under the guise of a final act of kindness to his kin, Goyo had been able to gaze upon her father’s pale face, severed from his body. A face more wrinkled and haggard than it was now.
That wasn’t the only strange thing. The place where Duke Rubiette was, the bed she was lying in, the entire room was familiar.
It was Goyo Rubiette’s room. Not Goyo Alte’s, but Goyo Rubiette’s room.
The room she used until her marriage, which later burned down.
Had her suicide not failed? If so, was Goyo Alte really dead? Did she die, and because of that, could she see and talk to the dead?
The sensation of her hand clutching the bedsheet was too vivid, sending shivers down her spine.
She believed death was the end, but why…
“Goyo?”
Having learned to hide her emotions from a young age, it wasn’t difficult for Goyo to conceal her bewilderment. Even so, this time it was a bit challenging.
Noticing the strange behavior of Goyo Rubiette who had silently lowered her gaze, Duke Rubiette called her name.
Goyo tried to put on as calm a face as possible and looked up.
“My throat hurts a little. Other than that, I’m fine.”
“…I see, that’s a relief.”
“What about Walter?”
Whether her effort was effective or not, Goyo’s voice, though dry and cracked, sounded composed.
The Duke’s curious expression returned to his usual blank look.
“You might be disappointed, but he’s taking a nap. After all, he’s only seven years old.”
“I know. I was just… worried he might catch my cold.”
“He’s healthy with no signs of illness, so don’t worry.”
“Alright, Father.”
Goyo swallowed dryly. In truth, she wasn’t particularly concerned about Walter’s well-being in this inexplicable situation.
The clumsy excuse of worrying about the cold spreading was merely to make inquiring about someone else’s well-being seem natural.
Following that, Goyo pressed down her pounding heart and asked the most difficult name to utter in the world.
“Is Melissy alright too?”
* * *
Due to a slight fever, her head felt heavy and her senses were dull, but Goyo Rubiette tried her best to explore the situation rationally.
She avoided long conversations using the fever as an excuse and subtly gathered information from the less suspicious Annie and Jeffrey.
Thus, three days later, in this strange situation that felt like either a dream or a nightmare, Goyo managed to uncover a few things.
The first was the date. Goyo’s death occurred in September of the year 151, while the calendar here indicated October of the year 144. In other words, there was a seven-year gap between Goyo Rubiette closing her eyes and opening them again.
The second was the people. Everyone who should have been dead was alive and well. Starting with the maid Annie, Duke Rubiette, Lady Kazel, Young Duke Walter, and even Melissy.
And the third was…
“Whew.”
There was no need to think further. These two pieces of information alone made it clear that the time in which Goyo opened her eyes and was breathing was not the present but the past.
Goyo hadn’t yet fully accepted the absurd notion that she had returned to the past.
However, if she had indeed traveled back in time, there was one plausible reason she could think of.
Though it seemed more likely that she was dreaming about returning to the past or wandering in hell.
Goyo opened the door to the drawing room.
“Hello, Terio. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Whether it was a dream, hell, or even reality, there was something Goyo Rubiette needed to do.