Chapter 003
Rosetta Coco Bennetra (3)
【 It’s bad manners to be so startled by a person’s face. 】
“You’re not a person, and you don’t even have a face!”
【 Darling, why must you hurt me so? 】
The ghost feigned a sorrowful, disappointed tone, and I struggled to calm my thumping heart. I hadn’t expected him to be lounging so boldly in the room of an unmarried lady.
‘Dammit, I was secretly happy when I couldn’t see him anymore…’
The thought of being forced to resolve the grudge of some nameless ghost made my head ache. Yet, at the same time, a strange sense of camaraderie washed over me—the feeling that I didn’t have to endure this revenge alone.
Since things had already turned out this way, I decided to take my next steps alongside this fellow.
“Let’s introduce ourselves properly.”
I was bothered by the fact that I was only wearing my nightgown, but I placed a hand over my chest and bent my knees slightly in a formal curtsy. Judging by the way he spoke down to me at every turn, this dead man had likely spent his life ordering others around.
“I am Rosetta Coco of the House of Bennetra. May I ask your esteemed name?”
【 Is there a reason we must exchange names? 】
…This bastard. Even when I show him respect.
His coy refusal reminded me of certain socialites at tea parties who were busy keeping everyone at arm’s length. My mood soured instantly.
“Fine then. I’ll just call you ‘Hey.’”
【 Darling. 】
“I’ve been meaning to ask—why do you keep calling me that?”
【 Alternating between formal and informal speech… it seems your father raised you with quite a bit of doting. I’m quite envious. 】
Oh, would you look at this guy?
Is he actually using “noble lady rhetoric” to imply I lacked a proper upbringing? Even though my father always found my behavior—which mirrored my free-spirited mother—to be nothing but endearing. He even ignored my actual question…
I snorted in defiance and lifted my chin high.
“The dead are supposed to be silent. You should be grateful that I am even deigning to continue this conversation.”
【 Haha. The image of you crawling on the ground is still so vivid in my mind… what should I do about that? 】
That was a threat, wasn’t it? He was asking if I wanted to go back to the Marquis’s backyard and die, wasn’t he?
To be honest, his eerie words did rattle me. Nevertheless, I crossed my arms and acted unphased. How often does a passing, grudge-filled ghost offer a deal to a noblewoman dying at the hands of an adulterous couple?
Extremely rarely, of course.
So, there must be a reason why it had to be me. Since he needed me too, I decided to take a hardline stance.
“Our deal was simply to help each other with our respective revenges. Besides, hasn’t the situation changed?”
【 What has changed? 】
“I’ve already returned to the past. I can crush those two on my own now.”
【 ……. 】
“You, however, still seem to need my help.”
I won.
Look at that stupidly frozen face! Well, I couldn’t actually see his expression, but imagining the man’s face twisted in dazed shock was incredibly satisfying.
“So, unless you want to exchange help as equals—”
【 Call me Shing. 】
“How dare you inter— what? Shing?”
The fellow simply nodded. Unlike his calm demeanor, I couldn’t help but be startled by the name.
The name “Shing” was incredibly rare. Meaning “The Most Precious Treasure,” rumors said it was a name the Emperor bestowed only upon those he truly favored; legends even claimed the ancient Sun God gave the name to a wildflower fairy he fell in love with. It wasn’t a name even high-ranking nobles used lightly, and it was typically given to women. In fact, for the last hundred years, the only person to bear that name was the late Grand Empress…
I assumed he was using a pseudonym and nodded.
“Fine, if you want to use that name. Now, tell me what it is you want.”
【 Have you become curious about me, darling? 】
“Just drop dead!”
Unable to contain my fury, I kicked the wall, tore at my own hair, and finally ripped down the window curtains. Even though I had burned all the Panilnia in the room, my emotions were still a roller coaster.
Thud! The heavy curtain rod made of Temerze wood fell, echoing a thunderous roar through the room. Of course, no servant bothered to come and ask what happened.
Meanwhile, the ghost kept pestering me, asking how wicked a person must be to tell someone who’s already dead to “drop dead” again, and urged me to tell “my darling” why I was so upset. I was so exasperated I had to lie down for a while.
【 Don’t get so heated. My revenge is your revenge as well. 】
The fellow, who had been quietly fanning me while I lay on the floor counting the embroidery on the ceiling, said something peculiar.
“What does that mean?”
【 Hmm, well… 】
Shing hummed for a moment, then spoke nonchalantly as if it were no big deal.
【 It means I intend to kill Podcus Chesia. 】
“…What?”
【 You’ll help me with that, won’t you? 】
The voice whispering “darling” softly reminded me of a man who was my lover but had never called me by such a name.
Podcus Chesia Montague.
My fiancé, two years my senior. The sole heir to the Montague Marquisate, and the man with whom I had exchanged vows of deep affection since I was nine years old. I don’t know if it started after our marriage or before, but he was the man who whispered love to Odette, mocked my dead father, and ultimately killed me, his wife.
— “When we marry, Rosetta, I will make sure you are happy.”
The affectionate promises whispered so teasingly in our youth had vanished, leaving me with nothing but wretched hatred. I didn’t know why Shing had targeted Chesia for his revenge, but I figured it worked out for the better. Two heads are better than one; we could find even more creative ways to send them to the afterlife.
That was all.
“Fine, then… Better than executing someone who hasn’t sinned against me. At least I won’t feel guilty.”
【 You’re surprisingly straightforward. 】
“That aside, Shing? It’s almost breakfast time, and I need to get ready.”
【 Okay. 】
“?”
【 ? 】
It seemed he had fried his manners in sewage and fed them to the slum rats. He didn’t seem to realize anything was wrong. I started to explain how uncomfortable, excessive, and detailed the process of a noble lady getting ready was, and why an unrelated male should leave during a maiden’s preparation time…
But it was too much work to explain, so I just waved him away.
“I have to wash.”
【 …Ah. 】
“So get lost, whether it’s to the hallway or Odette’s room.”
【 Rose, darling. 】
“Will you get lost?”
【 I’m a ghost, so it doesn’t mat— Ack! 】
“Oh? Oho! I see I can touch you now! Wow, that’s creepy.”
Shing, who took my reflexive punch squarely on the jaw, went rolling across the floor. I wondered if ghosts felt pain, but the fact that he had a tangible form I could touch was more fascinating. Even if my hand hurt from the strike, I couldn’t help but laugh. Come to think of it, I vaguely remembered the sensation of the hands that covered my eyes right before I was sent back to the past.
【 H-how could you lay a hand on me… This is truly the first time I’ve been hit. Truly the first time, darling. Are you listening? 】
Man, what a noisy ghost.
I pushed the hollowly muttering fellow out of the room and immediately rang the bell near the bedframe three times. As expected, no one came at once. I rang it five more times, yet still, no one appeared. Finally, after I rang it thirty-six times, a maid with a deep scowl threw the door open and walked in.
“Did you call?”
Look at this… this insolent girl.
Forget knocking before entering a lady’s room; her tone was sharp and dripping with annoyance. My immediate impulse was to whip her shins and throw her into the stables. However, if I did that, how would I be any different from my violent past self? I decided to keep things simple.
“I will be having breakfast in the main building. Prepare my bath.”
“…You’re going to the dining hall? You, My Lady?”
What should I do with this rude maid who dares to talk back? Swallowing a sigh, I walked slowly toward the door. The servants in charge of the Rose Pavilion, where I stayed, were experts at looking at me like I was a pathetic beast and ignoring me. Even when I rang the bell after skipping meals for a long time, they often turned a blind eye. When I discovered missing luxury items and threw a fit, they criticized me, saying I was suffering from paranoia.
Of course, the fact that innocent people were caught in the crossfire of my past outbursts—even if they were caused by poison—was clearly my fault. So, what could I do? If I thought of this girl, who seemed to have no manners whatsoever, as someone who might have suffered because of me once, I felt inclined to be relatively generous.
“Do you want to do it after being beaten?”
My “generosity” worked; she disappeared, saying she would bring people to assist me. Ah, mercy makes things so much easier. Reflecting on a mindset I had forgotten for too long, I waited for my attendants.
* * *
Every time the brush swept over me, my tender skin grew redder. The touch was far too rough and blunt for someone serving a noble lady. Only the orange-haired maid, who remained expressionless, washed me with a pressure that was neither too strong nor too weak. I wanted to run out of the bathroom immediately, but I had to endure by clenching my fists.
‘It’s the poison, it’s the poison… The reason it stings like death isn’t because of this maid’s garbage technique…’
Perhaps due to the influence of the Panilnia flower, even small stimuli felt as if someone were embroidering pain onto my body. Because of this, I used to throw tantrums whenever I had to change dresses or be bathed. But today, I couldn’t do that. I had to endure. If I caused another scene just hours after having my confinement lifted, I wouldn’t be able to face my father. Let’s just hold on!
Slap!
Hold on, my foot. The moment a maid poured scented oil into the tub, I slapped her across the cheek. A foul stench, far too strong to be endured, wafted from the bathwater. I had no choice, did I?
