Chapter 9
Clatter.
When Grace slammed her hand down on the desk, a sound came from the joint near the drawer as if something had come loose.
“Huh?”
Grace lowered her head and checked between the desk drawers.
In the gap, a book had been carefully hidden.
*Wow. Anyone could tell at a glance it’s a diary….*
Grace Felton must have hidden the diary very thoroughly.
She opened it.
The entries began from a little while after her marriage.
*Hmm, I guess she didn’t write in it that consistently?*
Grace hadn’t been as diligent as expected. On some days, there wasn’t even a date written.
Sometimes the diary was more like a notepad, with brief notes scribbled down.
*But it’s better than nothing.*
As she read Grace’s diary, more stories filled her mind than what was actually written on the pages.
For example, the fact that Grace had wanted to have a child, but had been hesitating for various reasons.
*I didn’t really want to know this.*
There was also the story of how she once told Benjamin about it, read the displeasure in his eyes, and never again brought up the topic of children.
*I really didn’t want to know….*
Grace wondered why she had to be hurt by something that wasn’t even her own story.
“…Ah.”
Grace suddenly looked up at the ceiling.
The ceiling of the study was teal, adorned with beautiful patterns painted in gold pigment.
It was perfectly to Grace’s taste—yet she didn’t like any of it.
Tears welled up.
Her grip on the diary loosened. The more she recalled her memories of Benjamin, the more certain she became that his kindness was merely kindness, not love.
Grace’s heart hurt. She knew this emotion wasn’t truly hers.
This pain was a trace left behind by the original Grace.
And yet, it still hurt.
Of course it did.
Unrequited love was never something you could end just because you wanted to.
To be honest—very honestly—Grace couldn’t say she’d had no expectations at all.
The kind of expectation you’d have after possessing someone in a novel: *What if my husband ends up loving the changed me?*
But as more of Grace’s memories returned, the depression and her one-sided love for him drove her mad.
Little by little, the original “her” disappeared.
In a way, that was fortunate. Her original life hadn’t been particularly happy either. That was why she could adapt to this life so quickly, living without dwelling much on her former self.
After reading the diary and sinking deeper into melancholy, Grace even gave up her walks and shut herself in her room for another week. Humans were more swayed by emotions than one might think.
Seeing Grace return from the study only to fall back into depression, the servants of the annex went into emergency mode. Behind the scenes, without Grace knowing, a “Save the Lady Committee” was convened.
Grace would probably never know about it.
Sally was the head of that committee.
As the representative, Sally approached Grace and spoke gently.
“My lady, I hear there’ll be a festival in town soon. How about going to see it?”
“……”
“It’s a f-festival! You can wear a cloak! A mask! There’ll be lots of pretty things. And if we bring plenty of knights along, it’ll be safe…”
Sally knew very well how much Grace disliked showing her appearance. Not just Sally, but everyone in the annex knew.
“I-I know you’re watching your diet, my lady, but there’ll be lots of delicious food then. Yes? How about eating something tasty just for that day?”
“……”
“My lady, you’ve barely eaten anything lately.”
Sally spoke as if she were about to cry. In fact, her eyes were already filling with tears.
If this were the Grace who had always cherished Sally, she would have gotten up by now and said she’d think about it. But right now, even organizing her thoughts felt overwhelming.
*Why is he kind to me?*
Is it just his nature?
Grace liked Benjamin’s kindness—and hated it at the same time.
She knew the marriage had been forced. The extras in *The Saintess’s Wish* never failed to emphasize that fact in passing dialogue.
Grace knew it all too well, having read it endlessly.
*I can’t ever expect Benjamin to love me.*
Before that happens, I’ll end up truly loving him.
And then, no matter what he does, I’ll accept it.
No matter how suspicious or questionable it is, I’ll accept it out of love and slowly wither away.
Perhaps the Grace Felton in the novel had been the same.
Imagining her future, Grace frowned under the covers. She could hear Sally swallowing back her tears behind her.
“…Sally?”
Only then did Grace lift the blanket and sit up to face her.
“Why… why are you crying?”
Grace asked, her vision spinning from having eaten so little. Sally felt miserable about all of it.
“It’s because you seem unwell, my lady, and I can’t help you.”
“No, no, that’s not true. You help me so much.”
Grace looked at Sally, flustered.
“I was just feeling overwhelmed. I’m sorry. When I start thinking too much, I stop noticing what’s around me…”
“……”
“……”
As Grace looked at Sally, her eyes rolled slightly.
“Shall we… eat?”
Sally nodded.
“I’ll prepare some soup… would you like consommé or potage?”
“Doesn’t consommé take a long time to prepare?”
At Grace’s question, Sally’s eyes narrowed subtly.
“The chef prepares it fresh every day and keeps it ready.”
“……”
That meant the chef prepared meals every day just in case Grace might want to eat.
Feeling guilty, Grace bit her lip hard.
“…I’m sorry.”
“My lady, that’s not something you need to apologize for.”
“…Okay.”
Grace was a noblewoman, but she apologized to servants often. She’d been like that even before possessing this body.
She had an especially soft heart—kind, and unable to ignore the hardships of others.
That was why all the servants in the annex cared deeply for Grace, though Grace herself didn’t know it.
And when we say “Grace” here, it meant both before and after the possession.
In the end, Grace got out of bed, washed up, and finished the soup the chef had prepared.
Buried beneath new bed sheets that the maids had agonized over choosing and replacing (to be honest, Grace couldn’t really tell the difference, but she praised them enthusiastically; they were all very pleased), she opened the diary again.
*Let’s read it again.*
Her stomach was full, and her body was clean.
There were several strange things about Grace’s diary.
She’d already decided on divorce. Being confronted anew with Benjamin’s true feelings had merely shocked her.
*This won’t just end with a divorce.*
Grace wanted to divorce so she could live well afterward.
If she was going to live on as Grace, then she should live well, shouldn’t she?
Grace’s dream was to extract as much alimony as possible from Benjamin and live comfortably—but to do that, she needed to eliminate every possible risk factor.
“First… this.”
Grace opened the very first page.
[*As you suggested, I decided to try writing a diary.*]
That was the diary’s opening line.
“Suggested?”
Who had suggested that Grace write a diary?
*What genre is this, anyway?*
Grace seriously pondered why, after possessing a romance fantasy novel, she was now doing detective work.
*And why is it written as if she’s talking to someone?*
Last time, she’d been too busy digesting the flood of memories to notice this sense of wrongness. If she’d realized this discomfort sooner, she might not have fallen into such pointless depression.
Next, she checked the pages separated by a ribbon marker.
On those pages, there were spaces for dates, and certain dates were checked off regularly.
*But there are no checks after I was possessed.*
That was only natural. But the fact that something had been checked regularly meant that the original Grace had been doing something on a regular basis.
If so, Grace should have recalled something about it after the possession.
She searched through her memories—more precisely, the original Grace’s memories.
“…This is strange.”
Until now, Grace had thought her vague memories were simply because she was a possessor, but looking back, that didn’t seem to be the reason.
Her memories were just… too jumbled, foggy, blurry, and uncertain.
She barely remembered anything about her original family, or events involving other people.
Even the memories she *did* recall sometimes overlapped and mixed with other memories.
“……”
All the memories she’d seen were about daily routines, yet in the end, they always included something about Grace’s emotions.
*Why does this feel familiar…?*
She felt like she’d seen this kind of整理—this way of organizing things—somewhere before.
As Grace thought deeply, a strange sound reached her ears.
Tap.
“…Hmm.”
Tap.
“What is that sound…?”
Tap tap!
“…Huh?”
Only then did Grace realize she wasn’t hearing things. She lifted her head and looked to the side.
Outside the window, it was pitch-black.
“What is it?”
Her bedroom was on a high floor. She wondered if a bird was tapping on the window, but there was no living creature in sight.
As Grace stared at the window again, a small pebble struck the glass.
