Previously
Euclid prepares for his bath at the capital estate, dismissing the servant boy Rick with a rare, forced smile while privately resolving to proceed with his selfish decision. The next morning, Evgenia joins her family for a final breakfast, noticing that Duke Basilian and Sionel look exhausted from a night of heavy drinking.
I couldn't help making a strange face as Melissa apologized, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, while the Duke casually brushed it aside.
‘Am I really the only one here who understands what’s going on?’
I glanced sideways at Melissa, who had seemed oddly restless ever since stepping into the dining hall.
When our eyes met, Melissa squirmed nervously, her fingers curling and uncurling as they brushed her cheeks. Anyone could see she looked just like a girl stricken by her first love.
( ‘She must be thrilled to meet Damian today.’ )
That was it. The object of Melissa’s unrequited love—and the current cause of her heartache—was none other than Damian, the High Priest of the Eleos Empire, and the final male lead of the novel after the Crown Prince and Richard.
Damian, however, had pledged everything to the Lord; investing feelings in him was a losing game from the start.
Because of that, most readers were split between rooting for the Crown Prince and Richard. Even so, a small handful championed this forbidden romance, insisting that ‘first love never fails’ or ‘there’s something romantic about him being a priest.’
At the very least, Damian—outwardly gentle and approachable—seemed far better than the arrogant Crown Prince or the utterly incomprehensible Richard.
The key word there, however, was ‘outwardly.’
Behind Damian’s noble air and gentle smile lay an unyielding, rigid core.
When Melissa, unable to keep her feelings bottled up, finally confessed her love, Damian turned her down with cold, decisive finality.
( ‘Of course, as a devout High Priest, his response was the right one.’ )
Even so, whether it was because I had already come to view Melissa as my sister, or because I knew better than anyone how painful it was to let go of someone you adored, I couldn't help thinking Damian had been too harsh.
Unlike me—who no longer pined over fictional characters and had even struck gold by marrying my absolute favorite—Melissa would likely stay trapped in her painful, one-sided love for quite a while.
While I was busy feeling sorry for her, the Duke spoke up.
Still sulking over not being able to throw a lavish, grand wedding, the Duke spoke as if finally washing his hands of that regret.
At that moment, my thoughts froze, and my eyes wavered slightly.
I finally realized what had made the Duke feel so disappointed.
What was there to love about a daughter who never called you ‘Father’ and never showed an ounce of affection?
Had he really just wanted to bring people together for a grand celebration simply to enjoy that one joyful moment?
Realizing the Duke’s genuine feelings sent an odd twinge through my chest, even though I wasn't the real Evgenia.
Before I could dwell on those feelings, however, Damian’s unexpected involvement struck me with sheer panic.
The Duke insisted that a blessing from one High Priest held more value than congratulations from thousands. And Damian, blessed with divine power so potent he had been appointed High Priest at just twenty-four, truly was an extraordinary figure.
People even whispered that he was favored by the gods.
And of course…
( ‘As a male lead, his abilities are the real problem!’ )
What if he saw right through me and discovered I was a soul from another world?
( ‘How on earth did I not think of this before?’ )
Unable to hide my agitation, I gnawed on my fingernails until Anne let out a shriek.
Startled, I hastily dropped my hands.
Anne shot me a puzzled look, but it did nothing to still my trembling. Dark thoughts swirled wildly through my mind.
‘Didn’t they originally say a high-ranking priest would officiate the ceremony?’
I knew, of course, that having even a high-ranking priest officiate was far beyond the norm.
The Duchy of Basilian was so formidable that people would line up just to get an invitation, just as the Duke had said.
‘Still, the High Priest?’ That was overkill. It wasn't even an imperial wedding!
Damian was a revered High Priest who had never hesitated to defy the Imperial family when it came to his convictions. Had he really bowed to the Duke’s influence now?
Even as I stood in the wedding parlor at the Temple, clad in my bridal gown and making final preparations, I kept laying the blame on Damian—though deep down, I knew my own anxiety was the real culprit.
My bold, confident self from before, the one who brazenly claimed the Lord had granted her wishes, was long gone. All that remained was raw dread that Damian might see right through me.
My extraordinary luck, after all, only applied to money.
The thought of being thrown into the Temple’s dungeons before I could even marry my favorite character made the world turn black before my eyes.
And the thought of how Anne and the rest of the household would react—having treated me with such warmth believing I was the real Evgenia—promised nothing short of catastrophe.
Yet dread wasn't the only thing making my head spin.
‘Marriage! I’m actually getting married!’
As I pictured myself completing the ceremony, the reality of my situation finally sank in.
( ‘I never once thought about getting married before…’ )
Before falling for a fictional character, I had never even experienced a proper first love, so it was only natural.
Unlike Evgenia, who had openly antagonized her family, I had never felt particularly attached to mine.
And now, here I was, about to marry Euclid and become his wife.
It was an indescribably strange feeling.
My heart thumped wildly, yet a heavy lump caught in my throat at the same time.
I had assumed I would feel nothing but pure joy and excitement, but instead, a bizarre wave of guilt washed over me—no, closer to a sense of sin.
( ‘Why, though?’ )
I tilted my head, utterly mystified.
Was it because marrying my ultimate favorite—a character I felt blessed merely to behold in real life—felt like an overwhelmingly greedy desire?
Looking at it that way, I could somewhat guess where the guilt was coming from.
After all, by marrying Euclid, Evgenia—notorious for her scandals and appalling reputation—would drag endless unwanted noise into his life. That much was obvious.
Yet, according to the original story, I hadn't merely agreed to marry him; I had rushed the entire process, believing that taking my hand was the easiest route to save Euclid’s family and the Duchy of Rodion.
( ‘Sure, I could have helped from the shadows or quietly smoothed the way, but shamelessly pushing for this…’ )
A faint whisper of conscience, one I hadn't even known existed within me, spoke up.
Granted, the voice was so feeble it was practically a murmur.
( ‘No, seriously, who in the world would pass up the chance to marry their favorite character?’ )
That thought snapped me back to reality, and I gave my head a vigorous shake.
…Only to get scolded by Anne all over again.
My hair had been pinned securely in place, and the veil covered it anyway, so it barely made a difference.
Pouting, I blurted out, “Anne, do you still have that sedative I took yesterday?”
I nodded at once.
Though my heart wasn't pounding quite as violently as yesterday, an unsettling edge lingered in my chest, a sure sign of nerves.
I held the vial she gave me. It was a slender glass tube about the length of my little finger, filled with a murky liquid.
( ‘The color is a little off-putting, but the effect is amazing.’ )
Medicinal tonics were often dark, after all.
Since I wasn't as rushed as yesterday, taking a closer look at the vial gave me a moment’s pause. Still, trusting its potency, I raised it to drink.
Suddenly, it hit me that I ought to pray.
I wasn't particularly devout, but since I was in the Temple and looking to calm my frayed nerves, I figured a quick prayer couldn't hurt.
Clutching the vial tightly in hand, I closed my eyes.
I prayed fervently that the wedding would go off without a hitch, and that I had truly come to this place to meet Euclid and bring him happiness, just as I had believed.
Once my prayer ended, I unstopped the vial and was just about to knock it back in a single gulp when…
The door swung wide, and the vial was knocked clean from my grasp, sailing across the room to slam into the opposite wall and shatter into pieces across the floor.
Huh… what just happened?