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“Could it be… that the Marchioness’s daughter of Even is the same kind of transmigrator as me?”
The possibility wasn’t entirely zero. After all, I’d already seen traces of transmigrators several times here. Even I myself wasn’t the first transmigrator, but the second.
So, who’s to say there couldn’t be a third? If even the male lead of the original story seemed to have regressed, then it wouldn’t be strange at all if another transmigrator existed.
“If she really is someone from the modern world like me, then she’s highly likely to know the original story well.”
And if so, she might even know how the Marchioness’s daughter of Even dies. She would also be familiar with the Marchioness and her family’s fate.
If someone who knew the entire plot had transmigrated, perhaps she was trying to change the fate of the Even Marchioness’s daughter. Because in the original, not long after the story began, she dies in an accident.
“But what does that have to do with helping the Marquis of Even’s business?”
If it was simply about avoiding death, then she only needed to be cautious about accidents. No further effort was required. But perhaps she too was trying to carve out a way to survive. If the Even family prospered thanks to successful business ventures, it would only benefit her.
After all, neither of us could return to the modern world. It was natural to start planning how to live on in this one.
Still, I needed confirmation. Perhaps Elam could provide proof—something that would confirm the Marchioness’s daughter was indeed a transmigrator.
He looked a little restless, gauging both mine and Lucius’s reactions. I spoke up.
“She’s quite a bold young lady. I can’t believe I never knew about her.”
“Ah, well, that’s because she doesn’t always act that way. Most of the time, she seems rather quiet.”
“Really? Well, if she didn’t, rumors would’ve already spread.”
The social world moved quickly, and word spread even faster. If she had acted like the original Marchioness’s daughter—or revealed some peculiar side of herself—she would’ve been well-known by now.
Most transmigrators, when they wake up in the body of a doomed side character, work desperately to avoid their fate. Every story I’d read was like that. Whether it was the heroine or a supporting role, they always tried to change the original. I was no different.
But the person in the Even Marchioness’s body seemed… different.
“She hasn’t followed the original… but she hasn’t openly defied it either. Not yet.”
She seemed to be working quietly in the background, but for what? Why push the Marquis into all these businesses when her life would’ve been secure otherwise?
If she could avoid the accident that killed her, her future would be smooth. Many noble families would line up to marry her. She could even choose favorable terms.
“So why force her father into ventures he doesn’t need? There must be an ulterior motive.”
Her actions looked less like survival and more like building the Even family up as much as possible. Either she was aiming for something, or preparing for something.
And maybe it was tied to her death. Or not just hers, but the whole Even family’s.
“Wait… could it be?”
Had she read past the main story, into the side stories? If she knew the ending like Rayel did, then maybe her choices were connected to that knowledge.
“But Rayel regressed in the original. That means the ending was bad. If so, doesn’t that imply the Marquis of Even triumphed later? …But then, wouldn’t that mean the Even family survived just fine?”
If the Marquis’s family never collapsed, then she only needed to avoid her accident.
So why act otherwise? Unless…
Maybe she hadn’t read the story to the end. Maybe she only knew up to the point where the Marquis clashed with Rayel, and assumed he lost. She might believe that the family perished.
After all, everyone who read the novel knew Rayel was a Grand Magician. Against him, even an army would fall. The transmigrator might’ve assumed the Marquis could never win.
And if that were true, she’d think the family was doomed unless she actively saved it through wealth and influence.
“For now, that’s the most plausible theory.”
To confirm anything else, I needed more information. Maybe Elam knew something further.
He had already given plenty, but it still wasn’t enough. Besides, one detail nagged at me.
“The reason I concluded Rayel regressed was because the original ending was likely a bad one. Last time I met him, I felt he’d failed to stop something the Marquis of Even did at the end of the story.”
But the transmigrator in the Marchioness’s daughter’s body didn’t seem to know the details of that ending. Judging from her actions, she believed Rayel had defeated the Marquis.
Using her modern knowledge to succeed in business wasn’t an issue—so long as she didn’t get in my way.
Other ventures didn’t matter. But the café business of Sub-Baron Evitt did. That was my creation, my work, something absent from the original.
And yet, I had learned that the Marchioness’s daughter had provided the plan to sabotage us—making counterfeit products, opening a copycat café, spreading rumors to lure neutral nobles away.
“Why copy Evitt’s café exactly? With her brains, she must’ve known she couldn’t beat the original.”
Was it confidence? No, she knew it wouldn’t be easy. That’s why she pulled in the neutrals from the start. She must’ve judged her own strength—and the Marquis’s—insufficient.
If not, she could’ve just created a different kind of café.
I even suspected she was the one who first suggested a contract with Sub-Baron Evitt. After moistening my dry mouth with a sip of water, I asked Elam again.
“Was it also her idea to seek a contract with Sub-Baron Evitt? I heard the Marquis himself proposed it.”
“Yes, that’s true. But it seems Julieta was the one who first introduced him to the café. After the deal fell through, I overheard the two of them talking at a restaurant.”
“What did they say?”
“The Marquis apologized. He said he was sorry for failing to seize such a good opportunity she’d found. Julieta said it was disappointing but fine—there would be other ways.”
“…Did she ever mention who Evitt ended up contracting with?”
“Yes. She asked him about it. He said it was with some oddly-named investor, likely a foreigner. When she heard the name, she only laughed.”
“…I see.”
The puzzle pieces clicked into place. It had indeed been her idea. But why me? Surely there were plenty of other unique cafés.
Coincidence? No, everything lined up too perfectly. She suggested the deal, the Marquis proposed it, but Evitt rejected and chose me instead. Yet she wasn’t upset—she already had “another way.”
As if she’d expected it all along.
“…And she only laughed when she heard my alias?”
She hadn’t reacted at all—just laughed. Of course, some people might do that. But until now, no one had ever failed to comment on my name.
There was no such name as “Anas One” in the Empire. With so many foreigners entering, names varied, but mine always drew remarks. Even Lucius had said, “It’s unusual, but pretty.”
Yet she only laughed. That alone raised my suspicions.
“Could she… know who I really am?”
Since I’d transmigrated into Tiana, married Lucius, and changed so much, the differences from the original Tiana were obvious. If she’d heard the rumors, she might suspect I was like her—a transmigrator.
“That would explain her reaction. And yet…”
The more the pieces fit, the stranger it felt. The moment I heard she had “laughed” at my alias, a chill ran down my spine.
It was as if she thought, ‘Of course she’d use that name.’
Why did it feel like she knew me too well? My trembling fingers tightened. I needed clearer proof.
“Elam. Sorry for asking so much.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Can I ask just one last thing?”
“Of course.”
He smiled warmly and nodded. I spoke carefully.
“Was there… anything special about the Marchioness’s daughter?”
“Special? Hmm… Ah! There was one thing.”
“What was it?”
“She often drank coffee. She hadn’t used to, but suddenly she started drinking it several times a day. Not just any coffee—iced coffee. Whenever she came to the restaurant, she’d always order a large glass filled with ice and drink it all at once.”
“…Really?”
Iced coffee? My trembling hands stilled, but now my heart raced furiously. No way. No way…
“Yes. And after drinking, she always said something. That struck me as odd.”
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘Of course, it has to be iced Americano. Even if I freeze to death, I’ll drink iced Americano.’”
“…!”
“I don’t know what it meant, but it was certainly peculiar.”
Elam tilted his head, curious. I couldn’t respond. I was too shocked, it felt like my breath had stopped.
‘Even if I freeze to death, it has to be iced Americano.’
When had I heard that before? Right. Soon after I first transmigrated, when I met Alexandra. That’s when I first realized there was another transmigrator besides me.
And now, I’d heard it again.
What did this mean? The same phrase, spoken twice. Did that mean the speaker was the same person?
“Then… could the transmigrator in the Marchioness’s daughter’s body be… the same one who first possessed Tiana before me?”
My heart thudded loudly, as if it had dropped straight into my stomach.
