02
Honestly, she didn’t feel happy about this new life.
Some people might like the chance to live a new life in someone else’s body, but she wasn’t one of them.
It felt uncomfortable and uneasy in many ways.
Still, time passed.
A few days later, she realized this world was her own novel.
She kept hearing familiar names and places. She couldn’t ignore them. This world was made by her, a world she had created herself.
Her novel wasn’t a masterpiece.
It had been written casually as a hobby, full of clichés, with holes in the setting and a messy story.
Even so, she loved it deeply.
She loved it so much that she hadn’t shown it to anyone, keeping it all to herself.
She spent some time comparing the novel’s story to the real world around her.
The world had the same structure as her story, but the people in it were not simple characters—they had their own thoughts and lives.
She watched them laugh, talk, and live their lives, thinking it wasn’t so bad to just observe this world flowing naturally.
Her story had a happy ending. If this world followed it, life here could be very good.
At first, she had nothing to worry about.
Then she heard rumors about the Noir Grand Ducal family.
A young lady from a duke’s family had apparently died after marrying into the Grand Duke’s household.
People whispered that the Grand Duke’s household was terrifying—exactly as she had written in her story.
The rumor spread that the devil-like Grand Duke had consumed the poor girl.
Hearing this, she suddenly realized—
The Noir Grand Duke, the villain of her story, had been created quickly and roughly because she wasn’t skilled at writing complex antagonists.
He was a simple, powerful evil meant to make the main character shine.
The Noir family had magic, cursed blood, and the Grand Duke was a figure of absolute threat.
Seeing people act with fear and malice toward him made her feel shocked.
Simple lines in her notebook—like “People feared him” or “People avoided him”—had grown into massive rumors in this world.
It was eerie and unfair to see it happen for real.
Even the infant heir, the “child of the devil,” was being gossiped about.
People said it was natural for a young noble to go mad, having given birth to the Grand Duke’s child.
This little black-haired baby—whom people mocked as a demon—was her villain, Ethan, from the original story.
Fioni felt her head spin like cold water had been poured over it.
In the original story, the villainous Noir Grand Duke had done many terrible things to become Emperor.
In the end, he was exiled and died alone in the Forest of Despair.
If this world followed the story, this child would meet the same fate.
It was a predetermined future, and she was the one who wrote it.
She had created a life of suffering for the child—cursed by people, doomed by ambition, dying young and alone.
This world wasn’t perfect. But the main characters from her story would eventually fix everything.
The Grand Duke? The Noir family would be scorned by the world and eventually vanish, recorded in history as defeated villains.
Fioni felt guilty.
She hadn’t thought about this when she made the Noir family.
That made sense—when creating characters, she hadn’t considered their human rights.
But this wasn’t a story anymore. It was real.
She couldn’t bear the thought that someone was suffering because of her.
She wanted at least the child not to die alone.
She couldn’t change the story, and she didn’t have the power to do so.
But she could be there for the lonely child.
She wanted to comfort a child who might despair at life’s failures.
From that day, she decided to help the future villain.
This became her life goal: to support Ethan, even though she was still adapting to Fioni’s body and this new world.
Years passed, and finally, an opportunity came.
The Emperor was looking for a suitable marriage match for the young Grand Duke.
The previous bride—the mother of the villain child—had died. She had been chosen by the Emperor to marry the Grand Duke.
The Emperor wanted someone inside the Grand Duke’s family before the young Grand Duke could strengthen his household.
Nothing else had worked, so they were trying the same method as before.
The Marquis subtly suggested it, and Fioni decided she would marry the Grand Duke herself.
She had already been thinking about how to leave the Marquis’ house and enter the Grand Duke’s household.
Marrying a stranger worried her, but the villain in the story had been parentless.
As she expected, the current Grand Duke would not live long.
Now, she was here.
Having safely entered the Grand Duke’s household, her real goal was about to begin.
She thought of the black-haired child sitting in the front row at the wedding.
He was seven, smaller than other children, and shy.
Even a few new people in the house made him stiffen, looking around nervously.
Fioni’s heart ached thinking about him.
Maybe he was naturally timid.
But she wasn’t naive enough to ignore how hostile the world around him was.
She had plenty of time—she would approach him slowly starting tomorrow.
At that moment, there was a soft knock.
“Madam, it’s me. May I come in?”
Leonard Noir, now her husband, the Grand Duke.
She was a little surprised. This was his room—he didn’t need permission to enter.
“Please come in.”
Fioni said. Leonard quietly opened the door and entered.
He was handsome, with neat black hair, and spoke with a cold expression.
“You must be very tired. Go rest first. I still have work to finish,” he said.
Leonard didn’t seem to think about sleeping with her. That was expected.
They had just married, but there was no sweetness, no questions about each other’s well-being.
And he considered her a spy—of course he didn’t want to share a room with someone he couldn’t trust.
Fioni noticed him standing by the door, still in his formal clothes, while she had already changed into nightwear.
Where would he change, or where would he sleep? She didn’t know, and it made her uneasy.
Leonard Noir was the father of Ethan, the villain in her story, and another figure that made her feel guilty.
Because of a few sentences she wrote, he was doomed to grow up in a world full of prejudice and die young.
In her story, Ethan would die very young. He was only seven now.
If she could stop his death, she would. But this was twenty years before that story.
She had no way of knowing the future yet.
Even if she couldn’t help Leonard, she didn’t want to make his life harder.
She didn’t want to take over his room or make him uncomfortable.
“Grand Duke, may we talk for a moment?”
Leonard gave her a wary look. After a pause, he nodded and entered the room, sitting on the sofa—the farthest spot from the bed.
He looked tense, as if noticing the unusual atmosphere in the room.
“We should have some tea,” Fioni said, noting that the conversation might take a while.
Leonard didn’t call the servants. He just looked at her.
Fioni shook her head. “I won’t take much of your time.”
She hesitated, unsure how to start.
Leonard was suspicious—he wouldn’t take her words at face value.
Still, she tried to speak carefully.
“I know you feel uncomfortable with me.”
Leonard didn’t react to her blunt words.
He remained expressionless, waiting for her to continue.
Fioni forced a bitter smile.
It seemed no matter what she said, his answer was already decided.
