Chapter 2
Even his voice was exactly the same as yesterday. Not the slightest trace of sleepiness.
So he really was awake. Litia bit her lip.
The moment her gaze dropped even slightly, her face burst into flames. Like a thief caught while trying to flee, she clamped her mouth shut, avoided his eyes, and tugged the blanket up to cover herself.
Maybe last night would’ve been different, but rubbing bare skin together while fully sober—after the alcohol had completely worn off—was borderline madness for Litia.
“Um…”
Yet the man, as if he felt no embarrassment at all, tilted his head and persistently followed her gaze.
“Hm? What is it? Say it.”
Pressed by him, Litia gave up trying to escape. She closed her eyes and forced her mouth open.
“…You’re too close. Could you move back a little?”
Instead of moving away, she heard a low chuckle. When she frowned and opened her eyes again, he was even closer—so close she could feel his breath.
Their noses brushed.
Startled, Litia tried to pull back, but only ended up sinking deeper into the pillow.
“…You told me to come closer yesterday.”
“That was—!”
“Well, you’re not trying to run away, are you? Where were you going?”
“……”
“It’s not because you didn’t like it, right? You said you liked me. You probably liked it even more after the second time. What did you say again? Oh—don’t tell me you don’t remember?”
At his shameless teasing, Litia abruptly raised her hand and slapped it over his mouth.
“D-don’t. Stop.”
Because all of last night’s memories had come rushing back—especially what that “second time” meant. Saying he was handsome, telling him to come closer, babbling about his lips… Even drunk, her mouth had been far too loose.
The man chuckled softly.
“Mm?”
The vibration of his muffled voice tickled her palm. Squirming at the sensation, Litia still refused to move her hand.
“I said don’t talk!”
She shouted while covering his mouth. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. In an instant, all her plans had gone completely off track.
She really, really hadn’t meant for this to happen…
Litia squeezed her eyes shut.
The day she first opened her eyes in this body came back to her.
Chapter 1: Litia, the Doormat Noble Lady
Inside the banquet hall.
“That dress really doesn’t suit you, Lady Mont.”
Splash.
Wine poured from her chest down to the hem of her dress, soaking it in an ugly stain. Soon she could even feel it dampening her undergarments. Laughter erupted from all around.
“…L-Lady Cavendish.”
Litia’s voice trembled weakly. Tears welled in her eyes, ready to spill at any moment.
Roa Cavendish widened her eyes.
“Oh my, why are you crying? I was only trying to help you dress more beautifully. I was helping you, really… Shouldn’t you want to look your best for His Highness the Crown Prince? Don’t you think you look much better now?”
“……”
“Oh dear, here we go again.”
“She really can’t stand Lady Mont, can she?”
“Isn’t it strange that Lady Mont keeps letting it happen? Maybe she actually enjoys it?”
Amid the snickering laughter, Litia lowered her head. If only she could disappear like this…
If not for the imperial invitation, she would have avoided every banquet altogether. She had come today praying that things would pass quietly, but it looked like she would leave without even entering the hall—without ever meeting the Crown Prince.
Litia and the Crown Prince were childhood friends. She had hoped to talk with him, even briefly, thinking it might ease her stifled heart. But once again, this group stood in her way.
Roa Cavendish, the cherished daughter of the Marquis of Cavendish and leader of a clique among noble ladies in the capital, saw Litia as a thorn in her side.
The primary reason was Litia’s appearance—so sacred and beautiful that rumors claimed she had been born blessed by the gods. The second was her family.
House Mont was one of the wealthiest in the empire, owning vast territories and producing more Saintesses than any other family. It stood at the very top. The empire’s only ducal house, with a beloved only daughter—and on top of that, rumors of her closeness to the Crown Prince.
Yet Litia herself was frailer than a flower grown in a greenhouse. That contrast made her all the more intolerable.
At first, the harassment had been subtle—too discreet to draw attention. The Mont family was too powerful to provoke openly.
But once Roa realized that Litia hid everything even from her own family, the bullying escalated. Soon it became bold enough for other noble ladies to notice.
Once again, Litia chose not to fight. She gave up.
“…I-I think I should go home.”
“My lady, don’t go. We hardly ever see each other—wouldn’t it be a shame to leave already?”
Laughing brightly, Roa pushed Litia to the brink of tears.
Her goal was simple: make sure Litia never met the Crown Prince today. And it was about to succeed.
“W-well, I suppose there’s no choice…”
Before long, a tear slipped from Litia’s eye. Her slender shoulders shook helplessly.
“Really? How unfortunate. Next time, I’ll be sure to help you properly, all right?”
“Y-yes. I-I’m sorry about today.”
Laughter rang out again. Roa remained smug and triumphant.
Unable to endure it any longer, Litia bowed her head and fled the scene.
That night, she threw herself into the lake.
And now—
The one who had opened her eyes in this body was Yoo Jimin, who had just ended her short life.
Yoo Jimin, age 24.
After becoming an adult, she had spent her entire life unable to leave the hospital room.
As her illness worsened day by day and her body deteriorated beyond saving, she finally closed her eyes, thinking it was time to be freed from the pain.
When she opened them again, she found herself in a body that wasn’t her own.
And of all people, it belonged to a character from the novel she had been reading just before she died.
Out of countless characters, she had become Litia—the pitiful noble lady who was pushed around from all sides and died miserably before the real protagonist even appeared.
“She’s awake!”
The moment she opened her eyes, a shrill cry rang out, throwing the entire estate into chaos.
“…Ha…”
After the commotion finally settled, Jimin stared into the mirror and raised a hand to her cheek. She had sent everyone away, claiming her head hurt—but she had no idea what to do with this confusion.
Her silver hair was unbelievably soft, slipping through her fingers and cascading over her shoulders no matter how many times she brushed it back.
A face that could only be described as pure and beautiful.
And her eyes—icy blue, like the heart of the Mediterranean Sea.
Jimin had seen this description recently.
In the book she’d read before her death.
It was something her friend had given her, desperately hoping to spark her will to live. She had read it out of gratitude, never imagining it would grant her a new life.
If she remembered correctly, Litia was supposed to have drowned in the lake. But for whatever reason, she had been given this second chance—and she refused to die again.
This healthy body was everything Jimin had ever dreamed of.
“….”
She didn’t want to die again. She didn’t want to suffer anymore.
So she decided to fully become Litia—but contrary to her hopes for a different life, she found herself confined to her room, unable to take even a single step outside.
Litia Eulunie Bellus Mont.
Even her name, laden with honorifics, showed how many expectations had been placed upon her at birth. But timid and lacking in courage, she had never lived up to them. Those expectations became nothing but crushing pressure.
In the end, that pressure drove her to her death.
Which meant that if Jimin continued like this, her future would be no different.
She needed to learn more about this body—about this life.
If she was going to live, she didn’t want to be pushed around. She wanted control. She wanted freedom.
“Ah—the diary!”
As she began to settle in, forgotten details resurfaced.
The original Litia had written a diary every night since childhood—recording everything she couldn’t say aloud, every small success and failure. Unable to express herself openly, she poured her true feelings into its pages.
She had loved pretty notebooks.
Thankfully, because Litia died early in the story, those details had been clearly laid out.
But before she could look for it, someone knocked on the door.
“…Who is it?”
Litia hurried to the door.
“Litia. It’s your father.”
At the deep voice outside, her body stiffened. She recognized him—the man who had come during the chaos when she first woke up.
The same man who had dismissed all of her attendants.
The memory of that day—people cut down without mercy—flashed vividly through her mind.
