Chapter 01
Yawn
Iblea barely managed to swallow her yawn.
‘Forget god-arranged couples or whatever. I just want to go home.’
She forced her heavy eyelids open and stared at the platform. On it stood a priest, his face flushed bright red from excitement, holding two name tablets in his hands.
They were name plates that had popped out on their own from a divine relic called the “Vessel of Asa,” which was said to reveal couples chosen by the gods. It wasn’t temple manipulation—real names had genuinely emerged. The priest was now in an extreme state of excitement.
‘If they knew who those names belong to, they’d be even more shocked.’
The priest pulled one of the name plates out. As soon as he read it, his eyes widened in disbelief. Before he could even announce it, Iblea already murmured inwardly.
Calypso Aedus.
“C-Calypso Aedus!”
The priest lifted the name plate high for everyone gathered.
“Huh—!”
Gasps erupted from all around. A completely natural reaction.
‘Of course they’re shocked. It’s the most outstanding man in the Empire.’
In salons, tea parties—any gathering of noblewomen—he was the most frequently discussed marriage prospect in the entire empire. And now, someone was about to be bound to him.
With the fantastical title of a “match made by the gods,” no less.
The only regret was that the event was filled mostly with girls around twenty, so the owner of the six-year-old name plate, Calypso Aedus, was not present to witness the reaction.
“Now we will confirm the name of the young lady chosen by the god Peluna.”
Everyone swallowed nervously. Most of the young ladies here were likely hoping, even secretly, that the name might be theirs.
Don’t be ridiculous. That belongs to someone else.
Iblea glanced at Paisley sitting across from her. Paisley was watching the stage with a faint smile.
At that moment, the priest lifted another name plate.
“Paisley!”
The reaction this time was even louder than before.
“So Lady Paisley really is a saint. I can’t believe the divine relic actually works…”
“If Lady Peluna truly loves the saint, then even the Empire’s greatest match…”
“Does this mean the Saint and His Grace the Grand Duke will marry…”
The temple instantly filled with chaos and murmurs.
Iblea’s gaze drifted back to Paisley, who was now chatting happily with the other noble girls, smiling brightly—very pleased.
She recalled something Paisley had said weeks ago:
“Isn’t it romantic? A divine matchmaking ceremony. I hope my name gets chosen!”
Iblea sneered inwardly.
Romantic my ass.
Of course it only looks beautiful because this is a story with a guaranteed happy ending where the hero and heroine are forced together. In reality, it would be horrifying.
‘Let’s say my name got picked alongside some guy who looks like he was chewed up and spat out. And then I’m forced to marry him under the name of God? How is that not insane?’
Honestly, even an arranged marriage by her father, Duke Carlin, would be better. At least he would match her properly within her status.
“Didn’t I try to match you with Grand Duke Aedus, and you ruined everything with that damn mouth of yours!”
Her father’s voice echoed in her memory.
But he was wrong. She hadn’t ruined anything. That man already belonged to someone else. Even now, look—Paisley’s name and his had come out together from the divine vessel. They were never meant to be anything with her.
‘Even the gods are against it…’
At that moment—
Thud.
Another name plate suddenly jumped out of the Vessel of Asa.
The noisy hall fell completely silent.
‘Against…’
Unlike the previous two plates that had fallen face down to hide their names, this one floated in midair—clearly visible to everyone, as if demanding they look.
‘Against…’
<Iblea Carlin>
“……”
Every gaze in the room turned toward Iblea in the front row.
* * *
That day had been strange from the beginning.
Iblea’s long-time maid, Dia, had suddenly come down with severe stomach trouble, disrupting her plans to go out.
“I’m sorry, my lady… I was supposed to accompany you…”
“It’s fine. You can barely stand. Rest. I’ll go with someone else.”
She usually always took Dia with her, but she couldn’t take a sick maid along.
So who instead?
After a brief thought, her eyes landed on another maid.
“Amy. Get ready to go out.”
Amy had worked in the ducal household for quite a while. They were going to a busy commercial district, and there would be escorts anyway.
‘What could go wrong?’
Nothing seemed like it would.
And indeed, nothing seemed wrong at first.
“My lady, instead of the boutique you usually visit, how about a new one nearby? It’s quite good.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
That was the moment everything changed.
To be precise, it was after she drank the beverage offered at that boutique… and lost consciousness.
When she opened her eyes again, she was somewhere she never could have imagined.
A filthy, damp prison cell.
The first thing she saw was a girl about her age, crying.
Long blonde hair, soft green eyes. She said her name was Paisley, and she was a commoner.
“This is a place where people are bought and sold… We might be sold somewhere awful…”
Paisley sobbed uncontrollably.
Iblea was stunned.
Sold? Me? A duke’s daughter?
‘Who did this? Amy? The boutique? Why would they do this to me?’
Questions tangled endlessly in her mind.
But it didn’t matter.
Whoever did this—she would make them pay dearly.
‘It’s fine. The escorts outside will notice I’m missing soon enough.’
She believed that.
She had to believe it.
She wanted to believe it.
Creeeeak—
But when the door opened with a dreadful sound and strangers walked in—
“Wow, top quality. And they just handed her over for free? Jackpot.”
Fifteen-year-old Iblea trembled in fear.
As they approached, she finally lost consciousness.
When she opened her eyes again, everything had changed.
“IBLEA!”
Her father, Duke Carlin, had grown older.
“My baby! Ibe! Are you awake?”
Her mother, wiping tears endlessly, had also aged.
“Oh my god! Thank the gods! My sister is alive!”
Her older brother Francis, praying fervently, had aged as well.
“Waaah, sis…”
And her younger brother Damon, now able to speak, was crying at her feet.
Seeing her family like this, she realized she must have been asleep for a long time.
But that wasn’t important.
She had just learned this world was a novel with a hero and heroine—but even that didn’t move her much.
Everything had changed with time.
But one thing in her hadn’t changed at all.
Only one thing mattered.
“Amy. That bitch.”
At those words, the entire room froze.
Even Duke Carlin, about to call for a doctor, stopped.
“So where is she?”
Iblea sat up abruptly, as if she had just taken a nap instead of lying unconscious for years.
“Don’t tell me you killed her. Father.”
Her tone was sharp enough to freeze the room.
The duke answered awkwardly.
“…I didn’t kill her.”
That much was true.
“Then where is she?”
And that… was a very difficult question to answer.
