Chapter 30
The Prince Died, So I’m Starting Over!
“I need to go to bed soon.”
“Already? It’s not exactly bedtime yet, is it?”
“That’s what you, a fully grown whatever… I mean, young duke, might think. But I’m only eight years old, you know.”
It seemed he had just realized that the top of my head didn’t even reach his chest.
“Kids need lots of sleep to grow tall. I’m planning to hit about two meters, so I need to sleep sixteen hours a day.”
The young duke—or whatever his name was—looked slightly flustered. His pupils trembled ever so faintly.
I muttered clearly enough for him to hear, “Ahh… so sleepy. So very, very sleepy. But nobody’s letting Hari go. What on earth could they have so much to talk about…?”
The young duke looked down at me, face growing even blanker.
I made sure to yawn—loudly and theatrically.
His stiff shoulders drooped a little.
“…It seems I’ve been rude.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll escort you to your room, then.”
“No.”
“…Then I’ll visit again tomorrow morning.”
“No to that, too.”
“…Have a good night.”
“Yes.”
The eternally cold North…
From that bleak land, the supposedly love-ignorant young duke—a man whose backstory screamed tragic stoicism—walked away with oddly dejected steps that didn’t match his character description at all.
“Wow,” came a clap from the hallway.
Hariella’s brother—whom everyone had conveniently forgotten—was standing there, grinning and applauding.
“Aren’t you leaving?”
I glared at him with the meanest face I could make.
“I am.”
He just shrugged, unfazed.
“Then why are you still standing there?”
“Because I realized I still have something to give you.”
“What? What is it?”
I tilted my head, frowning. There was nothing I could think of that I’d receive from him.
Maybe it had something to do with the real Hariella instead of me?
As I stood there puzzled, he came closer with a mischievous grin and—
“Hey!”
He kissed my cheek.
Knowing full well he’d done something punch-worthy, he turned and bolted away the instant his lips left my skin.
“It’s a goodnight kiss!” he shouted from the end of the corridor.
A goodnight kiss… night kiss… kiss… kiss…
His voice echoed down the hallway long after he was gone.
“Aaagh! Ugh, seriously, that brat!”
I rubbed my cheek furiously until it felt raw.
What was wrong with that kid?
There had to be a curse in the blood of the Luruphel family.
How else could both father and son be so completely out of their minds?
I scrubbed at my cheek with my sleeve until it almost peeled off, then sighed.
The original Hariella really was something else.
To think she managed to burn with nothing but jealousy toward the heroine—despite being surrounded by lunatics like these—was honestly impressive.
Living as a villainess in a third-rate romance novel was no easy feat.
With a hollow sigh, I trudged back to my room.
Something told me tonight would be full of nightmares.
Maybe it was the result of being tormented by such eccentric—okay, outright unreasonable—people all evening.
The moment I returned to my room, I fell asleep like a rock.
“Milady! Milady!”
The next morning, I woke to Anna’s panicked voice serving as my alarm.
It was just before dawn, when the sky was pale and brightening.
“…Again?”
“Yes, again!”
“Tell him to go away…”
Despite my explicit warnings, the young duke had come to my room again.
He’d been visiting me so often lately that Anna had learned to shoo him off with a polite smile.
Today was no different—she left to deal with him while I sluggishly got out of bed.
Normally, I’d have gone back to sleep, but not today.
There was something I needed to do in secret while Anna was busy.
I pulled out the contract hidden behind the bookshelf.
There was something I had to check.
Let’s see… the name was…
“Sapphirus Aiden Detemir.”
If it were any longer, it could have wrapped around a sausage.
That was just his public name; his full imperial title in the royal genealogy must’ve been even worse.
Even Hariella had five or six middle names used only within the family—so the Third Prince’s must have been twice as bad.
“Sapphirus… Sapphirus… Sapphirus…”
I stared holes into the contract, chanting his name.
Last night, I’d had a strange dream—not quite a nightmare, but definitely unsettling.
The only people in the dream were me and the Third Prince.
He sat in a vast, silent room, tears streaming down his face.
He tried to swallow his sobs as he pleaded with me.
If I heard correctly, he was begging me to remember him.
So far, that much made sense.
I had forgotten his name the day before, after all.
If the dream had ended there, I’d have simply assumed I was feeling subconsciously guilty about it.
But it went on.
After crying for a long while, the Third Prince suddenly began to… grow.
In moments, he became a breathtakingly handsome man.
I don’t remember his face clearly, but—context clues suggested he was definitely good-looking.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
There were still tears in his eyes, but they never fell.
Then he said:
“You don’t have to remember. I’ll recognize you first.”
He smiled tenderly, comforting me.
Only then did I realize I was crying too.
His hand on my cheek began to fade, turning translucent.
Not even knowing what was happening, I felt desperate to say something to him.
“I…”
I opened my mouth urgently—
But the words never formed.
That was when Anna’s voice yanked me out of the dream.
What I had tried to say remained a mystery forever.
Still, I had a pretty good guess.
Maybe I was about to say:
“My memory’s not that bad, you know!”
Looking back, the dream was absolute nonsense.
Apparently, even when he became an adult, I still couldn’t remember the Third Prince’s name, and he gave up.
But I’m not that stupid!
It wasn’t that I couldn’t remember his name—I just didn’t feel the need to.
Why bother memorizing the names of people I wasn’t close to?
Calling someone by name only makes unnecessary attachment grow.
I wasn’t from this world. I didn’t want to get too entangled with its people.
Still, I remembered the names of those I’d grown close to—like Anna and Sir Peter.
So, clearly, I wasn’t forgetting. I was choosing not to remember.
I’m not an idiot. Of course I can memorize a name that simple.
The Third Prince’s name was…
“…Wait. What was it again?”
Something starting with “Sa”…
I glanced down at the contract again.
Sapphirus Aiden Detemir.
Still right there.
I shut my eyes and repeated it in my head.
The Third Prince’s name was—
“…What was it again?”
Gone. Again.
I was shocked.
Even goldfish, who are said to have only three seconds of memory, actually retain information necessary for survival.
So what did that make me?
Worse than a goldfish?!
Impossible. Something was definitely wrong.
There’s a huge difference between not memorizing and being unable to memorize.
“Milady? You’re already up?”
Anna entered just as I was panicking.
I hastily stuffed the contract under my arm and shuffled back to the bed.
“Are you going back to sleep?”
“…Anna.”
“Yes?”
“Do you think I’m kind of… dumb?”
“Pardon?”
“Or maybe when I fell out of that tree—the bandit incident, I mean—did I injure my brain or something?”
Could it be short-term memory loss?
“Are you unwell? Should I fetch a healer?” Anna asked, worried, stepping closer.
“Let’s see… you don’t have a fever…” She pressed a hand to my forehead, then murmured seriously,
“You seem perfectly healthy. Just… maybe a little slower today.”
“…What?”
Anna frowned, puzzled, but then smiled gently and patted my hair.
“I don’t know what’s troubling you, but don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re the brightest eight-year-old I know.”
“Well, of course.”
I wasn’t actually eight.
But I couldn’t say that to her.
And honestly, I wasn’t even sure I was smarter than an average eight-year-old anymore.
A normal kid could probably memorize the Third Prince’s name in seconds.
This was definitely not normal.
“Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong…”
“What is? What’s wrong?”
“That I don’t know what’s wrong—that’s the problem…”
Despite having regressed four times, I realized I actually knew very little about Hariella.
The puzzle of her life was full of missing pieces.
Most of the pieces I did have came from my first life.
To begin with, I’d never had any reason—or desire—to dig into unnecessary details about her or her world.
Because not once had I ever imagined a future where I’d have to live as Hariella.
