SWT 2

 The floating scenes shattered like glass at an urgent voice. 

"Miss! Miss?"

It was only after my body trembled like a paper doll that a woman came into clear view. 

Judging by the maid's suit-style uniform she wore, she seemed to be the head maid.

A guess formed in my mind that this new body I acquired was likely that of a noblewoman.

Soon more shocked women soon gathered around the appalled woman.  

At the command to not dither and summon the lord, they quickly dispersed outside.

Now only this presumed head maid and I remained in the room.  

She met my eyes, then suddenly burst into tears.

"Miss, do you recognize me? It's me, Marianne!" 

I felt warmth from the body that embraced me tightly.

"I really thought something happened to you miss..."

She could not even properly finish her words.

From this much, it seemed she and I had once been close.

While easily grasping the situation, she made earnest efforts to calm my blank stare.  

I had lost consciousness after some unknown illness and been bedridden for 7 years, she said. So it was only natural that everything felt confusing now, but I would be alright.

7 years... That scratchy and unpleasant feeling sticks like a thorn on the tip of my tongue.

"What's my name?"

Seeming shocked that I had even forgotten my name, the maid named Marianne looked stunned.

"Miss Vivian, why are you doing this!"

Vivian. Vivian...? I repeated that unfamiliar name over and over.

Then I looked at my hair.  

Even after confirming the deep blue tresses reminiscent of the night, I shook my head.

It was too unique a name to be mere coincidence, but I wanted to believe it wasn't so.  

No, I wanted to believe it desperately.

I purposely averted my eyes from the familiar wolf crest.

Such patterns are popular across the empire, so they could put them anywhere.  

Surely the contractor wouldn't play such a cruel trick, unless they were utterly insane.

But then,

The man who burst into the room moments later confirmed it for me.

The contractor was indeed insane.

"She's awake."

The man who murmured in a low voice was none other than the lord of Snowfel, Diarov Snowfel.

*

Diarov Snowfel.

That bastard was my family's mortal enemy who tried to massacre us.

At the same time, he was a formidable foe, skilled in the typical noble politics of meticulously plotting stratagems to back opponents into a corner.  

Born into a great aristocratic lineage, he ruthlessly schemed and struggled to build the current Snowfel house, never easily yielding anything.

They say he did not even blink an eye at his wife's death, instead attending an important assembly that day.  

And then he usurped her territory for his own gain.

Not only that, but he tried to kill me to make Vivian the crown princess, repeatedly putting my Rosemary family in danger.

Each time, I struggled desperately to escape that predicament.  

Our fight to capture and be captured, like a round of tag, continued endlessly.  

So any encounter with that bastard could only be dreadful. Frankly, it was sickening.

The problem now was that vile man was my father.

The gray-haired duke with murky eyes like his own instantly dominated the room with his imposing presence upon entering.

If I had not dealt with him many times before as an aide, I surely would have been cowed by his ferocious aura, unable to even look him in the eye properly.

The name Snowfel currently carried such formidable prestige, and that man standing at the center commanded a position that none could dare look up to.

The servants lined up around him also kept their heads bowed, fidgeting nervously while stealing glances.

Regardless, he didn't even spare them a glance, instead looking me over like inspecting an object. 

"At least you still have some use."

"..."

"You woke up just as the talks of a national marriage were heating up."

It was an unbelievably callous attitude for a daughter who had nearly died.

Didn't they say Vivian had collapsed and been bedridden for 7 whole years?  

On top of that, it was some unidentifiable illness.

It seemed a miracle she didn't receive a death sentence, having survived whatever condition that was.

Even the servants were aghast and caused a commotion at my awakening, showing how serious my state must have been.

Yet how could a father regard a daughter who nearly died and woke up after 7 years with such an attitude?

And just what nonsense was that about a national marriage?

Of course, I knew this empire had many fathers who treated daughters as mere objects, showing no affection.

It was even more common among the nobility.  

Unless they were the heir to continue the lineage, daughters were largely just assets to raise the family's prestige.

But...

'Didn't Diarov dote excessively on Vivian before?'

From what was known, Diarov was said to cherish his only son and daughter immensely.   

He worked so diligently to accumulate wealth and honor for his children's future, they said.

The Duke Diarov, who sometimes even appeared romantic at a glance, often took Vivian around with him.  

I had witnessed it myself many times publicly.

In my childhood when we were close friends, I frequently saw such scenes, and even afterwards... At official events they always appeared the picture of a harmonious father and daughter.

Whenever there was an event, he paraded Vivian around excessively.  

As for his acclaimed son, who never made public appearances due to supposed frail health, he was also said to be cherished just as much.

'But what exactly is...this situation now ?'

Over the rising perplexity, the man's voice overlaid:

"What are you dallying about without examining her?"

"But the examination involves great pain, so for now..."

"There's no time. Start immediately."  

Faced with Diarov's ferocious glare, the healers bowed their heads and strapped me tightly into some kind of apparatus. 

Afterwards, various examinations proceeded quickly.

Throughout the painful examination process, his eyes held a disturbing lack of emotion.

Finally, the attending physicians finished their report using complex medical terms as I emerged drenched in cold sweat.

In any case, the conclusion was that I had fully recovered with no abnormalities.

The Snowfel healers seemed to receive quite rigorous training, as their healing abilities were considerable.  

The strength drained over those 7 long years returned in an instant.

Only after confirming this did a smile bloom on the duke's lips.

For some reason, that smile now looked bitter to me.

Just as I tensed wondering what nonsense he would spout next, the duke's gaze met mine.

"Focus solely on your recovery."  

With that, he left without a backwards glance.

Normally when seeing a daughter awake after 7 years, even if one doesn't shed tears, wouldn't they at least embrace her?

Was it the ill feelings I harbored that made him regard me so?  

Or was it simply an ominous premonition?

But such thoughts quickly dissipate like vapor in the air.

Was that trivial matter really an issue now that I had become Vivian Snowfel?

Still disbelieving that reality, I gazed quietly into the mirror.  

There truly sat a woman with blue hair and violet eyes, cradling her face with one hand.

'Ah...'  

Tears welled up from the dejection.  

It seemed my resolve had been mere arrogance after all.

My Rosemary, my family, my everything... had I now lost it all?

I missed my father and my only little brother Tican so dearly.   

My father must think I'm dead by now.

To perform the alchemic return, secrecy had to take priority, so I couldn't tell anyone.

By now, my brother and father must have given up searching for me.

My heart yearned to run out immediately and see my family's faces again.  

But in this appearance, this form, I can never approach my family again.

As the days passed, my tears dried.

Fortunately, the terrible headaches gradually subsided, and I showed a magically quick recovery.

As each day passed, cold reasons layered over the hot rushing emotions.

"I've prepared the bath. Please go."

As usual today, the head maid Marianne diligently performed her duties.  

She was the only person in this vast mansion who would speak to me.

Persuading me to eat the untouched soup, spooning it into my mouth - her behavior seemed infinitely better than Duke Diarov's.

This person must have gotten along decently well with Vivian.

After strangely finishing my grooming, I slightly bowed before entering, where a wooden bathtub emitted billowing steam and a sweet fragrance.  

As I moved my disrobed body toward it, scars came into view.

The scars were not just in one place.

'What happened here...?'

The scars, looking quite old by their appearance, were scattered all over.  

For a noble lady who spent her life inside doing needlework, why would she have such scars?

From the marks, they were clearly not simple scars.  

I wondered who could have done such a thing.

Without any way to know, fear dominated my whole being.  

I considered asking the head maid but thought I might just be called insane, so I gave up.

As the billowing steam dissipated and cooled, my mind gradually returned.

My cooled rationality allowed me to organize what needed to be done.

First, I had to get out of here and go to the imperial palace. Only by meeting him could I seduce him, or do whatever was needed.  

I could not afford to waste even a single day now.

The most hopeful thing currently was that Diarov and I seemed to want the same thing.  

Duke Diarov had always wanted to seat Vivian as the crown princess.

If he had truly cherished his daughter, much may have changed over those 7 years, but he had not changed at all.

You can read much from a person's eyes.  

Those eyes so clearly mixed with ambition were undoubtedly brimming with desire.

According to Marianne, Cassius was still unmarried, and among the nobles, many were clamoring to place their own daughters as empress.  

That clamor previously led by other dukes instead of Diarov would now likely play into his hands.

Because I had awakened.  

Marianne mentioned an assembly was happening today, so a conclusion would soon follow.  

That explained why Diarov was so busy running around, not even staying at the estate.

The problem was Cassius.  

Would he, who had not let a single woman into his bed chambers for 7 years, fall for Diarov's outrageous suggestion and marry me?

Frankly, I was doubtful.   

Then my only option was to use Diarov's ambition to put his neck in a noose.  

That would be the fastest, easiest way to seize a position by his side.

But for some reason, I felt reluctant to hand over Cassius's weaknesses to none other than Diarov.  

My thoughts continued as I stepped out and dried myself.

The deepening agony broke when the door burst open with a bang.  

Only the duke could barge into this room without knocking.

As I looked up, Duke Diarov was present as expected.  

A satisfied smile soon spread on his lips.

Just as a chill ran down my spine from the ominous feeling, he opened his mouth.

"We'll have the wedding in a fortnight."