Episode 3
“Should I inform His Majesty the Emperor and ask him to send an imperial physician tomorrow?”
“If possible, that would be best. I’ve never seen Sylvia cry like that before, dear.”
“Hmm. She’s fallen asleep for now, so let’s not worry too much and keep an eye on her. The attending doctor said it’s probably just a temporary symptom.”
Even though he knew he should scold her strictly, seeing his daughter’s eyes swollen from crying made his heart feel like it was tearing apart. The duke gently stroked the child’s head over and over before finally leaving the room with his wife.
Sylvia felt tears well up again.
She had always wanted parents like this.
Not the kind who got angry and scolded her, asking if she thought she was the only one suffering whenever she said she was in pain.
‘They’re incomparably better than my previous life.’
Sylvia slowly counted on her fingers.
She was ten years old now.
In ten years, she would die.
It hadn’t even been half a day since she had been thrilled, thinking a fair god must exist…
There is no god. Or if there is, he must be a cruel one.
To give her the loving parents and healthy body she had always wished for, only to let her live for just twenty years.
No… If this was her future, it would’ve been better not to know. Then at least she could have lived happily until the very end, even if her life was short.
“Please, let this be a dream. How does this make any sense?”
Sylvia Langston. She had no complaints about the name itself—in fact, she thought it was pretty.
But if that name was *Sylvia Langston*, the fiancée of *Eric Donovan*, then the situation became very serious.
Eric Donovan.
Why was that name appearing here?
It was the name of the male lead from *“Square Illusion.”*
“Why am I the villain?! Why am I the villain?!”
Filled with injustice, Sylvia shouted.
Of course, she knew her personality wasn’t exactly good.
But a villain?
Fine, she had thrown things when she was upset. She refused to apologize out of pride. She sometimes snapped at the maids. But still—wasn’t that level of behavior understandable for a duke’s daughter?
The same went for becoming the Crown Princess.
That position had been hers since birth. What was wrong with being born privileged and becoming Crown Princess?
“No… it’s just a coincidence. It has to be. It definitely is.”
Sylvia, who had just been shouting, now shook her head vigorously.
She had burst into tears when she heard Eric’s name, but thinking about it now, wasn’t it ridiculous?
That this place was the world of a novel?
“Haha… wow, my imagination is really something.”
Wiping her tears, she forced a laugh.
There had to be at least one difference.
Just one. One piece of proof that this world was different from the novel.
But the more she thought, the more everything matched perfectly.
“Why do they use gold here too?”
“Why… is the capital called Central?”
Central was the capital in *Square Illusion.*
“Why… why is there a conflict at the northern border here too?! Why is the neighboring country called Le Mans?! Why?!”
In the end, Sylvia burst into tears again.
“Why… why is everything the same? Why…? Sob… waaah!”
Her fingertips trembled.
There was only one conclusion.
This world was the world inside the novel *Square Illusion.*
No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she couldn’t.
As soon as she realized it, Sylvia pounded the bed with her fists.
Fine. Even if she had been reborn into the world of *Square Illusion*—
She wouldn’t have minded. She might have even been excited. She could meet the characters she loved.
She didn’t need to be pretty. She didn’t even need to be perfectly healthy. She would have been happy even as a background extra who never appeared in the story.
So why—
Why did she have to be Sylvia Langston?
It felt unbearably unfair.
“If it had to be like this, at least make me the heroine!”
The heroine might have been born in a poor northern village, but at least she didn’t die. And she was loved passionately by three male leads.
‘It’s so unfair. She’s loved by three guys, and I lose even my one fiancé? What did I do wrong?!’
In her previous life, she had sympathized with the heroine, Yuriela, and thought Sylvia was evil.
But now that she thought about it, it was absurd.
Was she supposed to just quietly let her fiancé be taken away?
From her perspective, Sylvia’s “villainy” was self-defense. The real ones at fault were Eric, who fell for another woman, and that sly Yuriela.
If there really was a god, she felt like grabbing him by the collar and shaking him.
But that feeling didn’t last long.
Sylvia trembled and muttered quickly.
“I take back everything I just said and thought. I take it back.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and clasped her hands.
“God, you’re listening, right? Let’s make a deal. I have money. You know that, right? My family is rich. If you let me live, I’ll donate half our fortune to the temple. It’ll all be mine anyway, and my parents wouldn’t mind. Or do you want something else? Just tell me.”
Worried that lying down might look disrespectful, she even got on her knees.
“Hurry. Say something. We still have things to discuss, don’t we? If you were just going to give and take it away, why let me be reborn at all?”
No matter how long she prayed—threatened, really—no answer came.
After a long while, she lay back down, staring blankly at the ceiling.
‘There aren’t even 5,000 nights left for me to fall asleep.’
At that bleak realization, tears streamed down her face.
‘Eating delicious food, wearing pretty clothes… it’s all the same.’
All of it was temporary happiness.
She had loved the novel—more than loved it. *Square Illusion* had been her only support during her illness.
But even in that beloved world, she wasn’t happy.
She was miserable.
She had finally been born with a beautiful face, a good family, and a healthy body—but only had ten years left. It was like winning the lottery but never being able to claim the prize.
Ten years old.
Wasn’t that too young to understand the bitterness of life?
Ever since learning she would die as a villain, the once dazzling world felt drained of color.
“I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die.”
After staring at the ceiling for a long time, Sylvia curled up under the blanket. The small bundle trembled, and quiet sobbing continued late into the night.
—
### * * *
The next morning, Emily doubted her eyes.
“My lady… your eyes… your eyes are gone.”
They were so swollen from crying they looked like they’d disappeared. Panicked, Emily offered to bring ice, but Sylvia shook her head.
“No. It’s fine.”
“My lady, why do you seem so weak?”
Emily felt a pang in her heart. Sure, Sylvia could be bratty sometimes, but she was still just a lively child.
Seeing her so drained felt wrong. It was almost better when she was causing trouble as usual.
“Should I bring Lorelai?”
Emily suggested it quickly. Lorelai was Sylvia’s favorite person, so maybe it would cheer her up.
But Sylvia shook her head.
“No. Not Lorelai.”
“Then who?”
“Ray.”
“…What?”
Emily thought she misheard.
“My lady, what did you just say?”
“I said Ray. Bring Ray, not Lorelai.”
“You mean… Lorelai’s nephew?”
“Is there another Ray in this house?”
This was what her parents had always wanted—an apology to Ray, whom she had nearly hit with a toy.
She knew she had been wrong, but she didn’t want to apologize to a mere nanny’s nephew.
‘But there’s no need to be stubborn anymore.’
She wouldn’t become Crown Princess. She would die at twenty.
They say there are five stages of death:
Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.
Last night, Sylvia had gone through the first four.
Now, she chose acceptance.
Yes. They say even the wishes of the dead are granted—so how could she ignore the wishes of her living parents? She decided to be a good daughter, at least for the time she had left.
“Why do you want Ray…?”
Emily asked cautiously, worried something might happen again.
Sylvia sighed.
“I’m going to apologize. So go bring him.”
Emily’s eyes widened in disbelief.
