Chapter 18
I quickly stripped off my dress. Without the maids’ help it was difficult, but sheer willpower carried me through.
‘At least it’s fortunate they think I’m pregnant, so they never made me wear a corset.’
I shed the gown and changed into a simple outfit, one far easier to move around in. This too was something I had prepared long ago.
I never truly believed I would need it, since the Duke visited me every day.
‘Better hurry, in case Julia comes.’
The Duke and Sophia’s feet were still tied to the garden. No doubt they were whispering words of love to one another and would remain there for some time.
That meant I had a brief window of time to prepare for my escape. Beyond thorough preparation, I had one other trump card.
‘I know the original story. That’s my weapon.’
As a reader of the novel, I remembered the secret passageways hidden within the Duke’s mansion. I had even chosen this particular room because it provided the easiest access to one of them.
I swept gold coins into a modest-sized pack. The Duke had gifted me endless jewels and ornaments—disposing of a few small pieces without anyone noticing would be no trouble.
‘Stacked up like this, it makes quite a fortune.’
As I packed the items I had secretly collected, a strange sense of pride filled me. With just this much wealth, I could live comfortably and in luxury for years.
‘Ah. There’s one more thing I must do.’
The maids once asked why I always requested beer, though I never drank it. I only gave them a knowing smile without answering.
I went into the adjoining washroom and bent forward, pouring the beer I had stockpiled over my hair. The chill of the liquid bit into my scalp.
‘I’ll change my hair color, then cut it all off once I’m free of this mansion.’
Even if the Duke made a show of searching for me, he would not find me easily. Using a soft cloth, I roughly dried the strands. The color had already lightened noticeably. Slinging the pack over my shoulders, I crawled under the bed and ran my hand along the floorboards.
I pushed hard at the spot where a faint scratch marked the wood. This was a place the Duke himself would not remember, which was why he had given me this room without suspicion.
Ironically, it was his trust and generosity that now made it possible for me to flee so easily.
Creeeeak—
The entrance, unopened for years, groaned as it yielded, revealing the hidden passage bit by bit.
“If you won’t let me go, then I’ll run away myself.”
With firm resolve, I stepped into the darkness.
* * *
Whatever happens, I must survive.
That became my creed the day I came to this world. The first few days after waking here, it had been nearly impossible even to grasp my situation. Accepting that I had truly transmigrated was harder still.
At first, I thought it was a dream. I slapped my cheek over and over, trying to wake up, but all I gained was pain. Eventually, I was forced to admit the truth.
‘I’ve been dragged into a novel’s world.’
The things I saw were too absurd to be believed. Yet the stranger’s face in the mirror swore this was reality.
Worse still, I had transmigrated not into a major character, but into an extra with barely any appearances. It was only after overhearing gossip from passing servants that I pieced together where I was.
—“The Duke of Fiar threw out another mistress.”
—“Why does he keep doing that? It’s terrifying, no one’s safe.”
—“Exactly. Any of us could be next.”
‘The Duke of Fiar?’
My heart nearly stopped.
Mealtimes brought trays of fine food, my room was tidied while I was away, and everything seemed oddly pleasant—at first I even wondered if this was some kind of clinical trial. But the gap between that naïve thought and reality was vast.
‘If it’s Duke Fiar…’
That was the name of my favorite character from the romance novel I had devoured night after night before bed: Bihan Fiar. The tragic man with a scarred past who found solace in the heroine, Sophia.
He was the devoted “second male lead,” who sacrificed everything in the end. That very devotion was why I had loved him.
‘Could this really be transmigration?’
I even suspected it was a prank or hidden-camera trick. But the mirror’s unfamiliar reflection told me otherwise.
From then on, I roamed whenever I could, gathering information. The Fiar household was flooded with young ladies, sent by their families in hopes of catching the Duke’s eye.
That was how I eventually confirmed which point in the story I had entered, and which character I had become.
‘Why this one, of all people…?’
If I had landed in the body of some irrelevant extra, I could have lived quietly, untouched by the novel’s bloody events.
But intrigue paid no heed to such wishes.
—“She could win the Duke’s favor someday. Better eliminate her first.”
That was the sort of rumor whispered about women in my position. And just like that, mysterious deaths began occurring in the guest manor.
‘If I just stay quiet, maybe I’ll be fine. I’ll live so inconspicuously no one will even notice me.’
That was my only plan. But the reality of death looming nearby filled me with dread. I limited my interactions to a handful of others.
One of them was Jenny.
“Jenny, I’ve finished the book you lent me.”
She had always been kind, lending me novels and chatting warmly. Living next door, she had been my greatest support.
I went to return her book, along with a small gift in thanks, and knocked on her door. Jenny usually rose at the slightest sound, but no answer came.
‘Maybe she went for a walk. She always comes back quickly.’
So I waited. And waited. But she never returned.
“What are you doing here?”
A noble girl from the same floor passed by. I explained I was waiting for Jenny.
Her reaction chilled me. She covered her mouth in mock shock and widened her eyes.
“Don’t you know? Lady Jenny died yesterday.”
“…What?”
“Weren’t you close? How do you not know?”
Her tone was casual, almost mocking.
Jenny—dead? Impossible. She was quiet, harmless, never sought the Duke’s attention. She only wanted to survive unnoticed, like me.
But when I forced open her door, my blood ran cold. The room was spotless, stripped bare. The dolls she loved, the pastel clothes she wore—everything gone, as though Jenny had never existed at all.
‘This world is like this.’
Goosebumps prickled my entire body. I could be next, and no one would care.
‘I must survive.’
That was all that mattered. Even if I had to bow, crawl, or debase myself—anything was better than dying namelessly.
‘I’m sorry, Jenny.’
Sorry I couldn’t protect you, sorry I couldn’t even uncover the truth of your end.
She had once told me I reminded her of a younger sibling back home. She had treated me with such warmth. And yet, I turned my back and chose survival.
From then on, my resolve hardened.
The main story hadn’t begun yet. But once it did, Duke Fiar would fall into rebellion for Sophia’s sake. And in the end, he would be executed.
What would happen to me then?
‘I don’t even know this world’s laws.’
Here, only noble children who entered the academy could study subjects like law or philosophy. A disposable offering like me had no such chance.
‘When the Duke is executed… what becomes of me?’
Once tied to the Fiar household, I couldn’t simply walk away. Nor did I have the means to survive alone.
‘The estate will be seized by the Empire…’
People like me, bound to the Duke’s house, would be counted as property.
‘That means slavery—or death.’
Either way, my life would be forfeit.
I had seen the fate of slaves here: no food, no rest, no clothing, dying in droves under the summer sun or the winter frost.
‘Whichever path, I’ll perish.’
So I had only one choice.
I must live.
No matter what it took.
And for that—I had to escape the Duke of Fiar’s mansion.
My very instincts screamed at me: Run. While you still can.
