“The part where the male lead regrets everything and spirals into despair after the female lead dies, eventually killing himself. Dopamine and tears hit all at once, seriously.”
In her past life, Cynthia had an older sister with trash-bin taste.
During the war, air raids occurred every day, and the only source of joy back then was staying inside and binge-reading novels or webtoons.
“Everyone dies together at the end? Are you a pervert? Why would you like something like that?”
“That’s the real good stuff, I’m telling you. Just take one bite. It’s pure bliss.”
“Ugh, you really are like a trash bin, picking up all the filthy things in the world. Real life’s already a mess—why would I want to read more misery?”
“The female lead and male lead hate each other, but then she dies, and when he reads her final letter, he finally realizes his feelings… that part really hits.”
“No thanks, I can’t handle spicy content like that.”
If Cynthia had enjoyed that kind of story too, she’d probably be rolling around in some tragic drama world right now.
In the end, she was the winner for landing in a rom-com, healing, and redemption-type world!
Blissfully unaware that this was not a healing story but a fatally toxic one, Cynthia walked down the hallway with a bright, cheery face.
‘I wonder if my sister’s living a new life somewhere too?’
“Hey! If I manage to survive again, you have to swear on the River Styx you will read it! I even read the one you recommended, <The Cutesy Sunshine Lady Crushes Everyone>! I’m so mad at you!”
Even in her final moments, her sister had been trying to sell that story.
And yet she never even told Cynthia the actual title.
Hopefully, she was now off somewhere playing the role of a fairy in <The Cutesy Sunshine Lady Crushes Everyone> world.
Also her brother, who had been a soldier… maybe he ended up in the <One Piece> world he used to love?
“Ah.”
While walking and reminiscing about her past life, Cynthia suddenly remembered something and came to a halt, her face turning serious.
She quickly retraced her steps and returned to stand in front of Maceira.
“By the way, I don’t know where my room is. Are we sharing one?”
Maceira tilted his head slightly, staring at her without expression.
“Are we close enough?”
“We should be. We haven’t had the ceremony yet, but we already filed the marriage registration. You sure are shy.”
No matter what she said, it didn’t seem to land. His reactions felt just a bit too detached, definitely not normal.
She held out her hand and asked.
“But we are close enough for you to walk me to my room, right?”
“Too much trouble.”
With a smile, he shut her down flatly. Cynthia bit her lip and narrowed her eyes in frustration, looking like a small animal about to throw a tantrum.
“So petty… I guess I’ll have to get my hands on an internal map or something…”
She muttered to herself as she turned and walked off.
Her natural, unbothered demeanor was enough to ignite Maceira’s stubbornness and competitive streak. The corner of his lips curved into a crooked smirk.
“Let’s see how long you can stay carefree.”
After the wedding, he planned to show her the terrible decision she had made.
He was looking forward to watching her sink into despair and helplessness.
* * *
A maid with the stiff tone of a soldier showed me to my room.
She emphasized, quite firmly, that until the wedding, we’d be using separate rooms.
“If you require assistance, please call.”
“I kind of need help with unpacki—”
But before I could finish, the maid who’d just dropped off my luggage had already vanished.
I get it. She wants to get off work early. Respect.
Looking around the room, I broke into a wide grin.
“This is amazing.”
The joy of finally having a room to myself hit me hard. In my past life, I always shared one with my older sister.
As for the servants from the Count’s house who’d come with me? Not a single one was in sight. Unpacking? Assistance? Nope. Probably because they were more like surveillance agents than actual helpers.
“But… there’s no separate cold storage?”
The room was great, except it was freezing. I pulled the summoning cord to call a maid.
“It feels like we’re low on firewood. Maybe because it’s a north-facing room, but it’s really cold.”
At my request, the maid simply shook her head with a blank expression.
“The current amount should be sufficient.”
I glanced at the three lonely logs inside the fireplace, then looked back at her.
Is this… … one of those classic romance-fantasy novels style bullying cliche?
“That’s barely enough to call it ‘not enough.’”
“There is a set daily allowance for firewood, per internal regulations.”
Regulations? You live in a mansion straight out of a luxury fantasy, and you’re enforcing firewood rations? What is this, Scrooge’s mansion? Or a military survival camp?
“So you’re telling me… you’ve been surviving this bone-chilling cold with just that amount?”
My expression must have looked pitiful because the maid’s face wavered with uncertainty.
“If you’re worried about getting in trouble, I’ll go fetch more myself.”
With determination, I strode out of the room, and the maid hurriedly followed me, clearly flustered.
“Milady, what are you… Do you even know where it’s stored?”
“I know. It’s in the south-facing storage room in the garden.”
Firewood for fireplaces needs to be dried in the sun, after all.
Cynthia has been a servant for over ten years. Cynthia’s collection of random, practical trivia wasn’t useless after all.
“What brings you here, Milady?”
A senior maid, clearly higher-ranking, asked me as I arrived at the shed.
I gave her a bright, cheerful answer.
“I’m running low on firewood, so I came to get some more!”
As I struggled to pull out a bundle of firewood, I looked up at her.
“What kind of monster expects people to survive a freezing night with just a few logs? In this day and age? There’s a child living here too! The labor union and child protection agencies would throw a fit…”
The senior maid, who had been quietly listening, finally pressed her hands together and spoke politely.
“The Brigadier General would never do such a thing. In fact, I believe your room was allocated extra firewood.”
She must’ve thought I was being greedy, asking for more than my fair share.
“But there were only three logs. You’re welcome to come check with me.”
Her face stiffened. It seemed she finally realized what was going on.
“…My apologies. I apologize on behalf of my subordinates for not being able to properly teach them. It appears I failed to properly educate the staff under me. Many of the servants assigned to the residence hold resentment toward the royal family. I ask for your understanding.”
The way she said it was basically, ‘You’re the evil royalty in their eyes.’
“That’s understandable. Not everyone in the world has to like me.”
Yelling or demanding respect here would be a bad move.
“I understand. I tend to get that kind of stare because of my unique appearance.”
At my sad tone, her gaze shifted to my silver hair and crimson eyes—and I could see her pupils trembling.
“I… I-I’m not prejudiced! When I first saw you, I only thought you were beautiful!”
The best way to deal with people is with a smile that makes them feel guilty. That’s the advanced technique.
From my experience, it’s best not to make unnecessary enemies. If I start a fight, I’m probably gonna lose, so I might as well play nice.
I eyed her strong arms and said. “Thank you, Dahlia. Your amber eyes are lovely too.”
“Do you know my name?”
“When you first came to the mansion, everyone introduced themselves.”
“… Did you memorize all those names at once?”
Her voice was tinged with disbelief.
I just smiled in response.
Honestly, I only remembered hers because my brother’s dog in my past life was named ‘Kim Dahlia’.
“Dahlia, will you be my personal maid?”
“If that is your order… then I have no choice but to obey…”
She responded as if she was complying with her boss’s unreasonable order.
Hmm. I thought I almost had her, but she’s more resistant than I expected.
On the way back with the firewood and Dahlia, I ran into the sharp-tongued black-haired boy again.
“Hello!”
I greeted him brightly, but he glared at me like a hissing kitten.
“Why are you still here? Go back to your house!”
“Why?”
“Because this is my house!”
“Well, legally speaking, it’s my house too. We’re family now.”
“I’ve been family since before you got here!”
After a heated exchange, I made a proposal.
“Wanna flip a coin? If it lands tails, I’ll leave.”
“Deal.”
I pulled out a coin, flipped it high, and caught it in my hand.
“Now, time to check!”
It was heads. The boy puffed up his cheeks and held up three fingers.
“You have to win the best of three!”
I accepted the child’s suggestion and tried twice more, but the coin still landed on heads.
Even after flipping it himself and seeing the result landed on heads, he looked like he was about to cry.
Dahlia was looking at me like I was some immature adult stooping to a child’s level.
“It’s not cheating. I just have good luck with this stuff.”
If I were really that lucky, I’d have hit the jackpot from gambling and retired rich by now, but luck like that always comes with a price.
I gave the boy a gentle smile.
“Don’t kick me out, okay? I’m all alone.”
His peridot-colored eyes wavered.
“You don’t have any family either, sister?”
“It’s the same as not having one. What’s your name?”
He looked at me with a strange mix of suspicion and sympathy before answering.
“Eugene.”
“A noble name. Whoever gave it to you must have loved you very much.”
At my words, Eugene suddenly pouted, stomped the ground, and shouted.
“I still don’t like you, sister!”
Then he turned tail and ran away.
That prickly little kitten… I’m adding him to my capture targets. Into the basket he goes.
Later, when the truth comes out, I’ll bet he’ll be clinging to Maceira’s coat, bawling his eyes out and begging him not to kill me.
Then he wouldn’t be able to kill me, right?
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