“Lady, lady.”

I was roused from my sleep by someone’s voice. The excessively handsome face that came into view was saying something.

“You’re finally awake. Sorry for disturbing your peaceful slumber, but I thought it’s only right to say thanks before I leave.”

As I listened to the man’s voice, the events of last night came back to me.

So, it wasn’t a dream. I had secretly hoped that waking up would reveal it all to be just a night’s fantasy.

“Thanks for last night. I should get going now.”

The Crown Prince was already dressed in his day clothes, not pajamas before I even woke up.

“I’m just happy I could be of help to Your Highness.”

I asked, out of politeness, a fact I could confirm with my own eyes.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

“Yes.”

The Crown Prince’s face was clear but somehow bittersweet.

“Surprisingly well for myself.”

It made sense. The prince had lived his life on constant alert since before he came of age. The novel described him finding peace of mind only by the side of the heroine.

‘But to have found that precious peace now!’

What an absurd twist of fate is this? My bed had stolen the achievement that was meant for the future heroine.

Sigh… Well, what of it? As an avid reader of ‘Searching for a Husband,’ I’m a tad disappointed, but the truly important thing for me lies elsewhere.

“Then, that voice… You don’t hear it anymore?”

“That’s right. It was incessant until yesterday, but now it’s quiet.”

Yes! Sleeping in my bed must have broken the curse. I had been so anxious before falling asleep, worried that there might be no change.

Truly, I have no desire to experience such a frightening and uncomfortable sleep again.

I almost stayed up the entire night next to the peacefully sleeping Reynard. Touching the man could have cost me my life, after all. The only good thing was that I got to enjoy the view of a handsome face to my heart’s content…

‘Whoops, that’s not the point.’

Anyway, it was just as dawn was breaking when I fell asleep without realizing it. About an hour ago from now. Nothing seemed to have happened in that time, so fortunately, I must have slept quietly.

“Stay put and rest.” 

The Crown Prince insisted, but I couldn’t just lay there. I got up and went to the window to see him off.

“Oh.”

A question suddenly popped into my mind, and I couldn’t help but give it voice.

“Did Your Highness, by any chance, send me the Emperor’s birthday banquet invitation?”

“That’s right.”

It was you!

“How else was I supposed to meet a lady who’s confined to her house for reflection? It’d be odd to invite someone with whom I have no acquaintance to the palace out of the blue, and it’s not quite proper for me to visit the Marquis’s estate, is it?”

Of course. The mere thought of the gossip and speculation that would arise was enough to bring on a headache.

“Then, the fact that you spoke to me at the banquet yesterday…”

“It’s awkward to bring it up when you’re right there in front of me. Especially saying ‘Please let me sleep in that bed of yours’.”

Yeah, that makes sense. If one were to say such a thing to someone who wasn’t even a lover, they’d be nothing short of a pervert.

“Since the lady was supposedly at leisure, I just decided to barge in in the middle of the night to explain.”

Yeah, yeah. The unique thought process of his is definitely fitting for the role of an unconventional sub-male lead in “Searching for a Husband”.

But then he abruptly changed the subject.

“Lady, you lied to me.”

“Excuse me?!”

Reynard’s eyes narrowed as if he was teasing me.

“You said you sleep quietly, didn’t you?”

“Did I… did I make some kind of mistake…?”

“It’s nothing serious, so I’ll let it slide this time. Just don’t lie to me again.”

After giving me a scare, Reynard casually leaped over the terrace railing and jumped down.

“So what exactly did I do?!”

Only after the figure of the man, adeptly evading the Marquis’s guards, disappeared completely did I dare to shout timidly.

Did I touch him? But if I had, my body wouldn’t be as intact as it is now.

Maybe I snored or ground my teeth. Hmm, the thought alone is embarrassing.

“Ah, forget it! He said it was nothing, so it must be nothing!”

Shaking off the thoughts, I lay back down in bed. With only an hour of sleep, drowsiness trumped all worries. After all, eating well and sleeping well are paramount.

But, oh no. I had overslept.

“How can you be so lazy?”

With my first meal of the day, my lunch, before me, I hung my head in shame.

“If I hadn’t woken you, you would have slept right through lunchtime.”

The person pouring out the scolding at the table next to me was Charlotte’s mother, Lady Lindsay, the Marchioness. Like her daughter, the beauty with shiny blondish-orange hair frowned her delicate brows.

“Yesterday, after I sent you to His Majesty’s grand birthday celebration, you came home reeking of alcohol.”

She was stricter with her daughter than she was with her step-children, perhaps because Charlotte kept getting into trouble…

“What must people think of me, your mother?”

That was the primary concern. The opinions of others.

After losing his first wife, Marquis Lindsay overcame opposition and married the current Marchioness, a commoner with a child in tow. He went as far as to formally adopt Charlotte, elevating her to nobility.

The Marchioness, deeply moved by her husband’s love, vowed to become a hostess befitting the Marquis’s household. For her, a daughter who couldn’t adapt to her new environment and only caused trouble was a significant headache.

‘Even when she tries not to draw criticism, there’s enough gossip; then there was Charlotte creating trouble left and right.’

The guilt towards her husband, the scrutinizing gaze of those around implying that ‘blood does not lie’, and the disappointment she felt towards her daughter. It seemed these things had shaped the Marchioness into who she was now.

As a reader, I used to think Charlotte was pitiful, kicking away her luck. All she had to do was sit tight, and she could have enjoyed life as the Marquis’s daughter. Why obsess over a man who clearly wasn’t interested?

“It seems a simple confinement won’t do. Don’t even think about returning until you’ve learned your lesson at some distant monastery.”

But now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for Charlotte.  After all, I am Charlotte, and Charlotte is me!

‘I absolutely can’t go to a monastery!’

If I end up in a monastery instead of a villa, I’d have to live like a pious nun. Waking up before sunrise, working and praying all day, and only eating meager bread and vegetables! And they hardly give you enough of that.

Eating well, sleeping well—both would be impossible. Without those two, I don’t trust myself to survive.

“…I’m truly sorry, Mother.”

I slumped my shoulders, trying to look as pitiful as possible, sneaking a glance at Marquis Lindsay.

The Marquis, who had been watching his wife’s cues, tentatively started to intervene.

“My dear, you’ve scolded her enough. Charlotte is repentant…”

“You’re too soft on her! She won’t listen to kind words alone!”

Contrary to my hope that he’d add another word in my favor, the Marquis clammed up, taken aback.

He always felt a pang of sympathy for Charlotte when he saw his wife scolding her, harshly working the girl’s nerves, but fundamentally, he was a family man through and through.

Oh no, my only backup was the Marquis! At this rate, I might actually end up at a monastery, grazing on grass.

“Mother.”

Just then, a lifeline was unexpectedly thrown from an unanticipated quarter.

“I think the monastery might be a bit too severe.”

The man who had until now been quietly taking his meal spoke up.

“Hasn’t she managed quite well without incident up to now?”

It was Jayden Lindsay, the Marquis Lindsay’s eldest son and the legitimate heir to the Lindsay Family. Jayden, with his neatly combed red hair, looked at the Marchioness with calm eyes.

“Well, now that I think about it, that does seem to make sense.”

She agreed, somewhat flustered.

Understandably, she was surprised. Jayden, who usually completely disregarded his stepsister, was now speaking up for Charlotte. Even I was taken aback myself.

Jayden was the son of the late Marchioness. He didn’t overtly disrespect his stepmother, but the Marchioness felt intimidated by the model nobleman who was her eldest stepson.

Yes, if one had to describe Jayden Lindsay in a single phrase, it would be ‘more noble than any nobleman.’ Graceful and polite yet arrogantly so. It might sound contradictory, but that was the reality.

There was enough reason for Jayden, who epitomized the family’s prestige, to dislike Charlotte, who went around smashing it to bits. The silver lining was that he ignored her rather than bullied or picked on her.

Half a year into being possessed, I hardly recall having a proper conversation with Jayden. If we ever crossed paths in the house, didn’t we only exchange a simple greeting?

He clearly disliked me but always used honorifics and called me ‘sister’, behaving so noble-like.

‘But why this sudden change? Did he eat something wrong?’

Not only the Marquis but also the servants attending the meal were taken aback, their eyes wide as saucers. Seizing the moment, the Marquis didn’t let the opportunity pass.

“Jayden is right, my dear. Charlotte is making an effort. She deserves praise when she does well.”

The Marquis suggested, glancing between me and the Marchioness.

“For that, perhaps the two of you could enjoy a shopping trip. Let Charlotte choose something nice for herself.”

“But she is supposed to be reflecting on her actions.”

“What’s the issue if she’s with the Marchioness? And it’s good to get out and get some air occasionally.”

Ugh, I’d much rather lounge around at home.

But truth be told, silently going out was better than facing Marchioness’s ire. Anything’s better than a monastery, after all.