2.
“Wow — the more I think about it, the crummier it all seems…”
Where is my husband?
Who is he meeting?
Get my husband here at once.
She harried the servants mercilessly, pestering them for answers.
When his nights away continued, she behaved like a woman undone — turning every hotel in the Duchy of Bayern inside out in search of him.
Come to think of it, it was no wonder he stayed away for days.
After all, how could he bear to remain at home when his drunken wife—whom he despised and abhorred—had thrown herself at him, begging for just one night?
If it had been her in his place?
She would have run straight back to her parents’ house and started preparing for divorce on the spot.
Her relationship with her husband was already far beyond repair, so what good would sympathy do her now…?
Even if I apologized and begged for forgiveness, would he ever accept it…?
A bitter shadow clouded Nina’s blue eyes.
More likely, he wouldn’t forgive her at all—he probably wouldn’t even believe she had changed.
After all, human nature doesn’t transform so easily.
The only reason she herself had been reborn as a different person was because she had endured a tragic death and lived through reincarnation.
…And that had been anything but an easy road.
She had poured her entire childhood and school years into becoming who she was now.
And of all times, why did the regression have to come the day after I set a new record of shame…?
The crushing hopelessness lasted only a moment.
“…Milady, it looks like the Duke has returned.”
“Is that so?”
Marsha, who had been peering out the window, glanced at Nina and spoke cautiously.
“I’ll get a fresh set of clothes ready at once.
If he hears that you were injured he’ll come to see you.
You should be made presentable—cleaned up and ready to receive him…”
“No.”
Nina stopped Marsha as she was fetching the bloody bandages and damp cloths, holding her back.
He wouldn’t come.
He never did — not in my previous life, either.
***
Sleek black hair combed back with pomade, thick well-kept brows, sharp hawk-like eyes with striking ash-gray irises.
A tall man who dominated every other male around him simply by standing still stepped down from the carriage.
Ash D.
Bayern, the Duke.
He tugged at his cravat and let out a heavy sigh.
Every time he returned to the house where she resided, it felt as though a noose tightened around his neck, choking the very breath out of him.
The stifling weight that flickered in his ash-gray eyes lasted only a moment.
Then his gaze swept the surroundings, sharp and frigid.
Strangely enough, his wife was nowhere to be seen today.
After several nights away, he had expected to find her red-eyed and pacing in front of the lobby…
But the only one to greet him was the old butler, the longtime steward of the venerable Bayern estate.
He had heard that his wife had fallen down the stairs and been injured, but could it really have been serious?
Not that he was worried—but confirmation was necessary.
So he asked the old butler, Jeffrey.
“Where is she?”
“…Milady has remained in her chambers these past few days.”
“She still hasn’t regained consciousness?”
“She awoke four days ago.
Since she injured her head, she must be watched for a time, but the physician said, fortunately, it does not seem to be anything grave.”
“…Strange.”
He had expected her to throw a tantrum, demanding he come to her the moment she regained consciousness.
That troublesome woman staying quiet was a relief in itself—but the silence made him all the more suspicious.
Could she be plotting something?
His gaze narrowed toward the direction of his wife’s chambers.
A sharp glint of suspicion flashed in his ash-gray eyes.
“Will you be going to see Milady right away?”
“No.”
“But surely, since she’s injured, it would be proper to at least show your face—”
Ash halted mid-step.
“Butler.”
Sensing the deep displeasure in his low voice, Jeffrey bowed his head apologetically.
“My apologies.”
Ash said nothing more.
He knew the old butler had spoken without ill intent, so he simply turned away.
Show my face to that woman?
The memory of his drunken wife stumbling into his chamber half-undressed came back to him, and irritation welled up once again.
The woman might believe her feelings were love, but to him they were nothing of the sort.
Obsession, suspicion, control, madness—
what else could one call it but a sickness?
She was insane.
And because he lived under the same roof as such a madwoman, the very place that should have been the most comfortable and restful felt suffocating instead.
Ash clenched his teeth as a voice from memory rose unbidden.
“We’ve been married for two years already.
Isn’t it time we fulfilled our duties as husband and wife?
How much longer are you going to neglect me?”
Sharing the same air with her was already unbearable, and she dared to speak of marital duty?
Even if he died and was reborn, he would never share a bed with her.
Even now, at this very moment, his mind was fixed only on the thought of divorce—counting the days until it could be done.
***
It had been seven days since Nina shut herself away in her room.
No one came to see her except her personal maid, Marsha.
Ordinarily, a noblewoman’s morning routine consisted of reading the daily paper and overseeing the affairs of the household.
For the past two years, Nina had done exactly that.
But now, she had stopped all of it and locked her door.
Even the flood of invitations that arrived at her doorstep were all turned away with the excuse that she was unwell.
It took no small amount of courage to appear before people who knew every detail of her disgrace.
In truth, no one had ever enjoyed seeing her storm through the mansion, and now it seemed as though no one cared whether she showed her face or not.
If anything, they were probably relieved that she no longer tried to assert her authority as the lady of the house or hound them for news of her husband.
Lying in bed, Nina nibbled on the cookies Marsha had brought and sank deep into thought.
“…What on earth have I been doing all this time…?” she muttered.
After divorcing her husband, Nina had lasted only two more years before dying—and then she was reborn as Jang So-young, living twenty-six additional years.
She didn’t have such an extraordinary memory that she could recall in detail the events of twenty-nine years ago.
Only the broad strokes remained.
“Well, there’s at least one thing I do remember—usury…”
But really, what kind of refined lady goes around talking about loan sharking?
Around this time, Nina’s authority hadn’t just fallen to the ground—it had sunk straight through into the depths below.
Who would ever respect and follow a mistress of the house who spent every day throwing tantrums and neglecting her duties?
…But she knew a sure way to force obedience out of others.
And in fact, hadn’t she already used that very method to succeed in becoming the Duchess of Bayern?
It was simple-strike at their weaknesses.
And nothing was more effective than taking “family” as hostages.
So she would lend money to the impoverished parents or siblings of her servants.
They thought their kindhearted lady had shown them generosity—but nothing could be further from the truth.
She exploited the fact that most commoners were poor at arithmetic and barely literate, drafting vicious loan contracts that charged compound interest.
With those contracts in hand, she blackmailed her servants into aiding her in stalking her husband.
What could they do, when the granddaughter of a Supreme Court justice threatened to strip them of everything through legal process and cast their entire families onto the streets?
To save their loved ones, they had no choice but to obey—even the most unjust commands.
In my past life, how was I so clever only when it came to wickedness…?
At any rate, the victims of her usury were surely still scurrying about like squirrels, gathering scraps of information on her husband…
First, I need to tell him I want a divorce.
As for removing the eyes that spied on her husband, she would deal with them on the day interest payments were due.
“Hoo…”
Steeling her resolve, she rang the bellcord to summon Marsha.
“Milady, you called?”
“Marsha, what is the Duke doing right now?”
“He should be in his study, having his elevenses tea.
It’s just before noon.
Shall I send word to him…?”
“Yes.
Tell him I have something serious to discuss, and that I wish to see him for a moment.”
“Of course.”
With that, Marsha accepted Nina’s order and left the room.
Marsha would likely return without the Duke’s consent.
Eat a single meal together, share a single cup of tea—
he wanted nothing of the sort with her.
There was no way a man who refused to share even that would agree to her request.
Still, she had sent Marsha as a gesture—to show that she would not behave recklessly as she had before.
…But even so—!
Marsha looked at her with innocent eyes, on the verge of tears, and said,
“Milady, he said if I come to him one more time, he’ll use his authority to have me dismissed…”
After three days of turning down her requests, he had finally resorted to threatening to fire Marsha—her right hand, practically a part of herself.
Nina heaved herself up from the bed.
It seemed the only way to see her husband’s oh-so-precious face was to go to him directly.
But first—she needed to set herself in order.