#2.
In a sudden surge of emotion, I stared straight at that annoyingly handsome face. Vincent tilted his head slightly, as if to study my expression more closely.
“Amelia, are you angry?”
“No, not at all, Your Highness.”
“Maybe you’re so angry you want to kill me? Ever feel something like that?”
“……”
Does he even realize what he’s saying? Why not just announce to the world that he’s a regressor while he’s at it?
And honestly, it’s not me who wants to kill someone here—it’s you, isn’t it?
I forced my trembling lips into a tight smile and took a silent, deep breath. Don’t give him any reason to twist your words.
“Absolutely not, Your Highness. Angry? Over something like this? And even if I were upset, I’ve never once thought of hurting anyone, let alone killing them. That’s far too horrifying.”
I shook my shoulders slightly, feigning a shudder of disgust, firmly denying it.
To Vincent—who had died at the hands of pre-regression Amelia—it must seem unbearably hypocritical.
But what can I do? The Amelia standing before him knows nothing of that.
“Is that so? I get thoughts like that now and then. Must be I have a bad personality,” he said with a gentle smile.
I couldn’t hold my expression anymore. I hurriedly lowered my head and stood up from my seat.
“I’ll go call someone to clean this up. The shards are dangerous.”
Why, in the name of all things imperial, was there not a single servant around the Crown Prince?
He probably dismissed them all himself.
Anyone near him would look suspicious in his eyes now.
Just before stepping out, I glanced back—only to immediately regret it.
Those eyes… that’s not normal.
I caught a glimpse of his emerald gaze, cool and utterly flat. A chill ran down my spine. I quickly slipped out through the door.
“Haaah…”
The moment the door closed behind me, a long sigh escaped, tension draining from my body in a rush.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes for a moment.
Still, I have to live. I will survive this.
There’s no way I’ll let myself die like a dog for something I didn’t even do. If I’m going to live, I have to get out from under the Crown Prince’s blade of vengeance.
What should I do next?
First of all, I needed to put distance between myself and the Crown Prince. And the best way to do that was…
“…Breaking off the engagement.”
A duchy could never dare to request a breakup with the imperial family.
Which means, I’d have to get him to break the engagement with me.
What would be the most effective way? I pondered that as I reminded myself of the task at hand.
Right… I said I was going to call a servant.
I pushed myself off the wall and turned around, but then—suddenly—his voice came from behind me.
“Amelia, weren’t you going to summon someone? What are you doing out here?”
When did he come out? I didn’t even hear the door open.
He was like a ghost.
“I was just about to, Your Highness. Just a moment—”
Before I could finish, Crown Prince Vincent stepped in front of me, cutting me off.
I was suddenly trapped between him and the wall.
“My lady.”
He called me with a serious expression.
What now…?
“Y-Your Highness?”
In his emerald eyes, now fixed on mine, I caught a glimpse of something sharp. A glint of hostility. Of something darker.
No way… Is he really going to do it now? Here?
But Amelia’s death doesn’t happen until much later in the novel…
“Stay still.”
His low voice held a command—and then, abruptly, he reached out toward me.
“Kyah!”
I shut my eyes tightly. But instead of pain, I felt something brushing lightly past the side of my head.
When I opened my eyes again, Vincent had stepped back a pace, holding something in his gloved fingers.
A small, black insect.
“There was a bug on your hair.”
And with a quiet crunch, it was crushed between his fingers.
“…Ah. I-I see.”
I looked at him with an awkward smile, and he returned it with a gentle one of his own, his beautiful face composed.
Then, he removed his glove.
“Something unpleasant touched it.”
He must mean the insect… right? That was what was unpleasant… not me?
I watched as he tucked the removed glove into one pocket. And in that moment, I thought—
Maybe… this might actually work.
Maybe his grudge isn’t as deep as I feared. Maybe he never cared that deeply about Amelia to begin with.
If that’s the case, then there’s a chance.
Let’s just try. What’s the worst that could happen?
Resolving myself, I clenched my fists tightly and called out to him.
“Your Highness. There is something I wish to say.”
“Go ahead. I ought to listen carefully to anything my fiancée has to say.”
That affectionate “my fiancée” grated on me more than I expected. But I braced my shaking heart and slowly dropped to my knees before him.
“Your Highness, the truth is… I am not someone nearly worthy enough to stand by your side.
So, please—I humbly beg you to be the one to call off the engagement.”
Of course, if the engagement were broken now, Duke Wentworth—Amelia’s father—would go absolutely mad.
Still, even if he ended up selling her off elsewhere, he wouldn’t kill her.
But staying beside this man would almost certainly lead to death.
Vincent, wouldn’t it be easier on your heart to keep the woman who once killed you far away, rather than close at hand, where you’d be forced to hate and suspect her every single day?
Is it truly necessary to go so far as to kill her?
Vincent remained silent for a long while. I glanced up at him and knew instantly—it was over.
A deep, overwhelming smile had bloomed on that impossibly handsome face of his.
If this weren’t the situation it was, I might have been genuinely swept away by it.
“Amelia… that joke went too far.”
Hearing that, I decided to go with my final card. Just… tell the truth.
Sure, I might be written off as insane—but then again, he is a regressor himself.
“Your Highness, the truth is, I’m actually a—”
A possessor.
I’m not the original Amelia.
I came from another world, —or so I tried to say.
But no words came out.
What the…?
It seemed there was some kind of force—something magical, perhaps—keeping me from revealing that I was a possessor.
“Amelia?”
Vincent looked at me curiously.
“It’s not a joke. I know… that you don’t truly welcome me.
So, please… end this engagement—”
“Lady Amelia Wentworth.”
He cut me off—and then, lowering himself with careful grace, he extended his hand toward me.
His bare hand. No gloves.
Startled, I took it.
“It seems I’ve neglected you more than I realized… to hear such words from your mouth.”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“I won’t let that happen again. You’ll be moving into the Crown Prince’s palace in just a few days anyway. Since it’s come up, I’ll speak with Duke Wentworth about it directly.”
“Wait—Your Highness, what I meant was—!”
“Therefore, Amelia.”
He called my name in the lowest voice I had ever heard from him.
Before I knew it, he had come so close that I could see every strand of his golden hair shimmering in the light.
I inhaled sharply.
“From this moment on, I don’t want to hear the word ‘breakup’ pass your lips again.
To speak such a word would be to defy an imperial command. I’ll overlook it this time… but I can’t promise I will again.”
I was so stunned that I couldn’t say a word. I just stared at him.
Vincent continued calmly.
“You do understand what happens to those who defy a royal decree… don’t you, Lady Amelia?”
He actually said it. A royal decree.
To defy an imperial order was treason.
And treason meant death.
Right. No matter what I do, this road leads to death, doesn’t it…
“Amelia. Answer me.”
I lowered my gaze and replied softly.
“…I will remember, Your Highness.”
Vincent responded with a beautiful, satisfied smile, then turned and walked away.
His plan has not changed.
Vincent’s plan was to seduce Amelia.
To draw her into his orbit, keep her under his watch, toy with her emotions—and then use her as bait to bring down Duke Wentworth as well.
Had it been the original Amelia, she would have fallen for it completely.
But I… I won’t fall into that trap.
As I watched his figure receding into the distance, a cold shiver ran down my spine, washing over me in delayed waves.
—
By the time I returned to the Wentworth estate by carriage, night had long since fallen.
The large mansion, cloaked in darkness, gave off an eerie, oppressive air.
Ugh… I can’t even call this place “home.”
Neither for Amelia, nor for me, was this a place of comfort.
Someday… I’ll leave this place, too.
If I can just survive the disaster bearing down on me.
I stepped down from the carriage, crossed the garden, and headed inside. Magic lamps, lit at intervals, provided enough light to see the path.
This was a world where magic had taken the place of science.
It brought convenience—but danger, too—so all magicians were strictly regulated by the imperial court.
Caw, caw—
Just before stepping through the front door, I glanced up.
A large black crow with yellow eyes sat perched in the tree above me.
