Chapter 1
Here are the divorce papers.
The moment I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar yet intoxicating sensation, I was so shocked that I forgot even how to scream.
‘I was reading a novel before I fell asleep, wasn’t I?’
A fragment of a fantasy film—or rather, a dream—seemed to have come to life. A strikingly beautiful young man, the kind that could only exist in fiction, was holding me in his arms. And he wasn’t just handsome—he radiated an almost unreal, dangerous perfection.
‘…Lucid dream?’
It had to be. Otherwise, this situation made no sense.
I shifted my eyes to catch the soft glow of the bedside lamp, scanning my surroundings. Ornate medieval-style furniture and a grand chandelier were dimly visible. The bed I lay upon was fit for nobility. There was no escaping the conclusion: this is unreal.
‘Of course… it’s a dream.’
A comforting thought. Since the dream was so vivid, I wondered if conversation would even be possible.
“Um… hello?”
“Hello? Don’t you even know your husband’s name?”
My heart skipped a beat. He responded! A truly remarkable dream.
“My… husband? What’s your name?”
“This woman is unbelievable!”
He stormed out of the room, answering me as he went.
“Your husband, Count Philip Morris, isn’t it?”
Count Philip Morris!
The name sent a shiver of recognition down my spine. I had read about him in the romance fantasy novel Lyla’s Crown before falling asleep. He was the aide to the protagonist Lyla and her stepchild, Marlborough.
A bitter laugh escaped me.
‘A dream about Count Philip Morris… then I must be Ellen?’
Ellen—the wife in the story. She thirsts for her husband’s love yet squanders it on indulgence, oblivious to Marlborough being the hidden heir. She resents him and the virtuous Lyla, causing all manner of havoc until she is finally divorced.
Had she stopped her misdeeds there, perhaps her fate could have been different. But no—her relentless torment of Marlborough and Lyla culminates in a brutal punishment: she is forced to wear a scorching mermaid-shaped metal dress, dying in agony.
‘Of all roles, I get the mother-in-law… not the heroine. Figures.’
Philip returned at that moment, his wet hair being dried with a towel, clearly having bathed.
‘Ah… eye candy in motion.’
Just watching him, I felt a luxurious delight seep into my senses, my earlier annoyance vanishing.
‘Mother-in-law’s perspective… surprisingly satisfying.’
Philip was the most handsome, powerful, and… let’s say, adept man in the novel.
‘But which part of the story is this?’
As I pondered, Philip’s sharp gaze landed on me.
“Madam, stop dawdling. That does not erase the seal you affixed earlier.”
His words clicked something into place. I remembered the scene. Ellen had struck the bride, Lyla, and ruined her wedding dress the night before the stepchild’s wedding. Though a spare dress saved the day, the ceremony’s atmosphere was subdued.
After the honeymoon, Philip demanded a divorce. Ellen, ever scheming, tried to propose a plan: spend the night with him, and he would sign the divorce papers.
In the novel, it went like this:
“On one condition—just like our honeymoon night. Remember? Twice.”
Philip, however, was unexpectedly resolute.
“You are still shameless, it seems.”
With unwavering determination, he handed her the divorce papers.
“Fine. Here are the divorce documents. The official ones will follow shortly.”
Even then, he swore, “I still do not love you, so I will not kiss you.”
Ellen waved him on, indifferent.
‘Exactly this part…’
The scene of Philip and Ellen’s night together in the novel. A tantalizing moment, yet curtailed by the all-ages rating: it ended with morning sunlight spilling through the window and birds singing.
‘Even my dream can’t resist a bit of drama, huh?’
Philip held me again, seemingly determined to honor the “twice” rule. Awkward as it felt, it was a dream—and letting a lifetime-worthy handsome man slip away seemed a shame. I embraced him in return.
The next morning, a faint brightness seeped into my consciousness even before opening my eyes.
‘What time is it? My phone…’
I reached out across the bed.
‘Ugh… I don’t want to go to my part-time job.’
Then a hand brushed mine. Startled, I opened my eyes.
A broad, unfamiliar back came into view.
‘…Huh? Why is there a man in my house?’
I surveyed my condition cautiously, trying not to make a sound.
‘Oh no… this is a disaster!’
The thought alone made my vision darken.
“Kyaaaah!”
A dolphin-like scream erupted from me. The man, startled awake, sat up abruptly.
‘Lord! I will personally kill this man and then ascend to heaven!’
Without a second thought, I launched a kick.
“Pervert!”
I hold a fifth-degree black belt in Taekwondo. Legal consequences aside, this was no time to hesitate.
“Ugh!”
The man, struck before he could identify me, tumbled under the bed. Rationality returned briefly.
‘Did I overreact?’
Yesterday, I had fought off seven thugs threatening two women on a deserted street. Though I was hit with a club once, it had little effect. Police had arrived by the end, and thanks to lawyer friends, I had been released immediately. But the ordeal was not fully resolved, and I had been anxious knowing one of the thugs was seriously injured.
To calm myself, I had read a romance fantasy novel all night—then woke up to this.
“Why… why is this happening?”
“I wouldn’t know unless you asked.”
I slapped the man’s cheek with all my strength.
‘I can’t stand criminals—especially when it’s happening to me!’
He spun like a top and collapsed under a blanket. It kept me from being seen and made restraining him easier.
I began to beat him thoroughly.
“What are you, huh?”
“Ugh! M-Madam!”
“Madam? Are you crazy? How did you get into my room?”
“What do you mean… ugh!”
“You did it, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”
“Well… naturally… ugh! Didn’t you request it twice?”
“Twice? What… what are you talking about?”
I couldn’t believe it. And yet, I hadn’t woken up.
‘Was I really that exhausted from yesterday’s fight?’
His confession only fueled my fury. I delivered a spinning side kick.
“Ugh!”
He flew into the wall and rolled across the floor. His muscular body hurt my ankle.
‘Well-trained… could be dangerous if he fights back.’
I kept him immobilized, beating him relentlessly.
“You! You’re part of those thugs yesterday, aren’t you? Trying to commit a crime while I slept?”
“Ugh! Crime? What are you saying?”
He groaned under my onslaught, protesting absurdly.
“You demanded it first!”
My blood boiled.
“What? Demanded? Are you insane? Fine! Die!”
Pow! Pow! Pow!
“Ugh!”
The man moaned as I attacked.
“You dare claim I demanded it? Preposterous!”
“Preposterous? Why would I lie?”
He talked back after every blow, making me even angrier.
“When have I ever… when have I ever—!”
I stomped him into the floor, shrieking in rage.
“Absolutely disgraceful! Weren’t you… ecstatic last night?”
“What? Ecstatic? Nonsense! You were pathetic!”
“…What?”
“Enough! Just die already!”
My furious kicks drew louder screams.
“Kyaaaah! Madam!”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Calm down, please!”
Four maidservants, dressed in uniform, had appeared, frozen in fear.
“…?”
Only then did I notice my surroundings: a vast, luxurious room filled with classic furnishings, soft carpet beneath bare feet, morning sunlight cascading through sheer white curtains.
‘This isn’t my room…’
One maid hesitated, attempting to drape a robe over me.
‘Huh?’
Realizing my state, I snatched the robe and put it on.
“Take that!”
Anger surged—after all, it was the man’s fault. I lunged at him again, and the maids shrieked, holding me back.
“Let go!”
“Kyaaa! Forgive our rudeness!”
The man emerged from the blanket with a cough.
“Master!”
‘Master?’
Sweat and blood-soaked hair clung to his face, yet he was undeniably a refined, black-haired beauty—an unmatched vision of a man.
I averted my gaze, scanning his body through the blanket: steel-like muscles, at least 190 cm tall.
‘Judging by his build, he let me win. That makes sense.’
A cold voice cut through the silence.
“Trying to rewrite reality with a ridiculous act won’t work.”
I blinked, confused.
“The first divorce petition has already been sent to the court. From today, we enter a one-day cooling-off period.”
‘…Cooling-off period?’
“Your miserable marriage ends. I hope the hundred days pass swiftly.”
He turned, giving me a piercing glare before leaving.
“Madam! We’ll wait outside.”
The maids followed cautiously.
Alone, the room fell silent.
‘What just happened?’
Golden hair cascaded over my chest as I glanced down.
‘…Why do I look like this?’
Hastily, I went to the mirror. Impeccable ivory skin, deep eyes framed by long lashes, jewel-like blue irises, full lips, a perfectly straight nose… a stunning blonde woman stared back at me.
A pinch of the cheek confirmed it: she moved exactly as I did.
‘I… possess her body?’
‘Then that man must be her husband… maybe with two children?’
The emphasis on divorce suggested a very strained relationship.
A small chuckle escaped me.
‘Divorcing but still… intimate? Typical fiction logic.’
‘I should apologize for hitting that poor man… but why am I inside someone else?’
Aside from yesterday’s hospital trip and reading the novel, I had no recollection of anything else.
‘Wait… am I still dreaming?’
The previous night’s dream surfaced, bringing a mischievous smile.
“Ahahaha… lucid dream, yet so vivid…? Huh?”
Philip Morris from the dream resembled the man before me.
I flung open the door to confirm.
“Madam!”
The four maids, whispering, snapped to a 90-degree bow.
It wasn’t a moment to be formal with them.
“Where is that man? And who am I?”
A sense of helplessness hit me.
‘These questions… why are they so sudden? And why am I so… haughty?’
No matter. I would figure it out another way.
“Count Morris is in the study. Madam, you are the most beautiful woman alive—Countess Ellen Burban Morris!”
Every maid answered in perfect unison.
“Ellen? Countess Morris? This can’t be!”
‘I’m inside a novel… as the villainess who torments the protagonists?’
It was too much to grasp. I clutched my head.
“Kyaaa! Madam! I was wrong!”
One maid collapsed, sobbing in apology.
