Chapter 1
“You have six months. Within that time, you must kill your husband.”
On the wedding night.
That was an incredibly brutal thing to say to a bride who had just arrived in the bridal chamber.
Alice, the bride who received that ruthless order, stared at the woman standing before her.
A woman she had never seen before—her dull purplish hair neatly pinned up, wearing an expensive dress.
With sharp violet eyes, the woman glared straight at Alice.
“Why aren’t you answering? Don’t tell me you’re going to say you can’t do it now?”
When Alice stood frozen without saying a word, the woman’s brows furrowed.
“Have you forgotten how much money I poured into your family? If you fail, your brother will never receive his knighthood ceremony. No—not only your brother, but your entire family will end up out on the streets.”
Is this a dream?
For a brief moment, Alice wondered.
But the cold air seeping into her thin negligee was so freezing it made her shiver, as if to prove this wasn’t a dream.
And the moment she trembled from the chill, unfamiliar memories flooded into her mind.
So many memories poured in at once that her head began to throb. As she frowned and pressed at her aching temple, the woman’s expression twisted.
“Why are you still silent?! Are you ignoring me? You dare act so arrogantly on your very first day in the Duke’s household. Now that you’ve married into this family, do you think you’ve truly become the Duchess?”
Misunderstanding Alice’s reaction, the woman began screaming hysterically.
She even raised her hand, as if she were about to slap Alice across the face.
If this isn’t a dream, then the person standing in front of me is…
In the rush of memories, Alice realized who the woman was.
She was her husband’s mother—the head lady of the Dearrot Ducal House.
Quillian Dearrot.
So my mother-in-law is telling me to kill her son. What kind of insane melodrama is this?
Suppressing her confusion, Alice spoke to the furious woman whose face had flushed red with anger.
“…I apologize. I was just so nervous… I made a mistake.”
As Alice lowered her head and apologized, the woman’s aggression eased slightly.
“Tch. If you make such a mistake again, I’ll have you beaten until you come to your senses. Remember this clearly: you did not enter this house as a Duchess. You entered as my hands and feet.”
“…Yes, Mother.”
“Six months. The Duke must never survive past six months. So don’t make even a single mistake with the tasks I give you.”
“…Yes. I will keep that in mind.”
Perhaps pleased by Alice’s obedient reply, Lady Quillian finally allowed a faint smile to form on her lips.
After glancing briefly at the large bed in the bedroom, her gaze returned to Alice.
“Then serve your husband well tonight.”
“…Yes.”
With an obvious sneer, the Duchess Dowager soon left the room, leaving Alice behind.
Click—
The sound of the door closing echoed, followed by the fading footsteps of shoes.
Only when all sound disappeared did Alice, who had been frozen like stone, collapse onto the floor.
“No… what is this? What is happening…?”
Muttering blankly, Alice looked down at her body.
A strange negligee like something out of a drama, and pale white hands.
Her hands—hands that had always been washing dishes in the corner of a kitchen—could never have had such soft skin.
Staring at her hands in disbelief, Alice suddenly sprang to her feet.
She walked to the full-length mirror in one corner of the room.
The moment she stood before it, her eyes widened.
Bright, lively pink hair, and eyes that glittered like they had gold embedded in them.
And a cute face that looked far younger than her real age.
This was absolutely not the appearance of Han Suyeon.
“Am I… really dead?”
Han Suyeon’s last memory was seeing flames from a gas explosion erupt in the kitchen.
There was no way she could have survived that.
The moment she saw those flames, she had instinctively known.
Ah… I’m going to die.
“…It’s so unfair.”
Dying was one thing, but what hurt even more was that she had worked herself to the bone as a kitchen assistant and died without ever truly learning from a chef.
She had worked for an entire year without pay.
“Ha… my life…”
She let out a hollow sigh, then stared at her reflection again.
Then she pinched her soft cheek with her fingertips.
“Ow!”
It wasn’t a dream.
Han Suyeon really had died.
And unbelievably, she had become a woman named Alice Fodry.
Alice Fodry—the second daughter of an insignificant count’s family, sold off into marriage with the ducal house.
“…Possession.”
Something that only happened in books and movies had happened to her.
At least one good thing was that Alice’s memories had fully surfaced, making the situation slightly easier to accept.
Though that didn’t make it any less shocking.
But this girl’s life…
Among the memories that played through Alice’s mind like a panorama, the only happy memory was being held in her mother’s arms when she was very young.
Though she was of noble birth, Alice grew up in a not-so-wealthy count’s household.
Caught between her older brother—the heir—and her frail youngest sister, she was constantly pushed aside.
When her younger sister was born, her parents’ attention drifted even further away.
She lived quietly, always enduring, always yielding, always waiting.
Then, to cover the enormous cost of her brother’s knighthood appointment, she was sold into marriage with the Duke’s family.
Some might think marrying into a ducal house would mean happiness.
But as she had just witnessed, her mother-in-law was a madwoman who wanted her son dead.
And her husband wasn’t normal either.
He lay unconscious in bed, waiting only for death.
The Duke’s condition was so severe that they couldn’t even hold a proper wedding ceremony.
In fact, rumors said the Duke was already dead and the family was hiding it to prevent the house from collapsing.
In other words, Alice had essentially married a living corpse.
Swish—
Carefully, Alice walked to the bed and gently pulled aside the curtains.
There lay her husband, motionless as if dead.
“…Wow. He’s handsome.”
The moment she saw his face, Alice completely forgot the grim situation she had been in.
Her golden eyes widened as she let out an innocent exclamation of admiration.
Black hair like the night sky, a smooth forehead, a sharp nose, and full lips.
The man looked like a perfect sculpture, his eyes closed in stillness.
He was more beautiful and flawless than any actor she had ever seen in her previous life.
“…Wait. They said he’s been collapsed for over six months, so why is his body still this good?”
Her gaze naturally drifted from his face downward, and she murmured quietly as she took in his broad shoulders and firm chest visible through his sleepwear.
Even at a glance, the definition of his muscles was clear—meaning below his chest would be even more solid…
“Ahem… ah, cough.”
Realizing her gaze was drifting too far down, Alice hurriedly cleared her throat and lifted her eyes.
He’s sick. He’s sick…
Embarrassed for no reason, she stared at the ceiling for a moment to cool her burning face, then looked back at her husband’s sculpted face.
I’m supposed to kill you…
“You have six months. Within that time, you must kill your husband.”
A mother-in-law bringing in a daughter-in-law just to ensure her already dying son truly dies.
Even if he wasn’t her biological son, it was horrifying.
And the fact that she was expected to do it was even worse.
“Haa… This isn’t some ridiculous soap opera. Of all things, I had to possess the wife who has to kill her husband.”
What kind of disaster is this?
In her previous life, she had read a novel with this exact kind of plot.
A romance fantasy where a wife killed her husband under her mother-in-law’s orders.
At first, it felt unlike a romance.
But since it was still a romance novel, the wife who killed her husband wasn’t the main character.
She was just a minor supporting character who appeared briefly in the beginning.
Right. There was definitely a wife who killed her husband.
And that wife eventually…
“Wait a second…”
Alice’s face stiffened as a chilling memory flashed through her mind.
In that novel, the dead husband’s name was…
“…Kailus Dearrot.”
And the wife’s name was—
[Execute Alice Dearrot, who poisoned her husband, by hanging.]
Alice’s mouth fell open at the vivid line from the novel that surfaced in her mind.
Then, moving stiffly as if her joints creaked, she lowered her head again.
The sleeping man’s face—the Duke with black hair, Kailus Dearrot, just as described in the book.
Kailus Dearrot. Alice, you’re becoming the Duchess of Dearrot.
The moment she confirmed his face again, she realized it.
She had possessed a doomed side character from a melodramatic novel.
“This is insane.”
Huff… huff…
Her rough breathing climbed up her throat, but Alice couldn’t stop running.
In the pitch-black darkness, she ran desperately toward an entrance where a single ray of light poured through.
She ran and ran.
But just before she reached the exit, someone reached out a hand toward her.
Caught by a large hand, Alice was pulled into a wide embrace, trapped as if she were being swallowed.
“You can never run away.”
The deep, chilling voice pierced her ear.
The moment she turned her head, the black smoke covering the man’s face began to disappear.
And at that instant—
Alice sucked in a sharp breath and opened her eyes wide.
She opened her eyes…?
Blink. Blink.
Staring at the handsome man’s side profile right in front of her, Alice blinked slowly.
Reality gradually returned.
“Ah… what kind of crazy dream was that…”
She muttered under her breath, then suddenly realized how close her husband’s face was.
And then she realized her own posture.
One hand was inside his shirt, resting on his broad chest.
One leg was thrown over his thigh—an extremely close, intimate position.
Feeling the firm, solid muscle beneath her palm, Alice’s mind snapped awake.
“Gasp!”
