Chapter 2: I’ll Let Go of My Obsession

The medieval European-style romance novel The Flower of Ruzencia—that was the name of the book containing the story of the world Lise had been transmigrated into.

The plot? The usual cliché: Lilia, an illegitimate daughter who suffered oppression, overcomes adversity to become the empire’s empress. It was such a generic Cinderella story that Lise hadn’t even bothered to read it properly. Of course, if it hadn’t involved her, she wouldn’t have cared either way.

The problem was that the female lead, Lilia, was Lise’s half-sister.

Lise had supposedly hated Lilia—her father’s love child—and tormented her relentlessly. And when she found out that Cain, the handsome slave she’d been obsessed with, had feelings for Lilia, her abuse grew even worse. And then, finally…

That slave Cain turned out to be the male lead—the long-lost crown prince who would later become emperor.

One season later, blinded by jealousy, Lise would try to push Lilia off a cliff… only to be killed by Cain instead.

Ah… So that’s how I die. Lise was speechless.

Why did she have to meet such a fate? Without even getting married once?

Just like in her past life.

Lise had wanted to get married.

In her past life, she’d been strung along for four years by a guy who kept her dangling on false hope. Just when she was about to move on, he’d reappear, shaking her resolve all over again. Because of him, she’d never dated anyone else.

“You’re the only one for me. You’re the only person I can be at ease with.”

He’d made her feel like his safe haven… only to marry a woman who got flustered just thinking about marriage.

That was when she realized:

Maybe a safe haven doesn’t have to be a spouse.

That night, heartbroken, she drank heavily and stumbled into the street—right into the path of an oncoming truck.

Having grown up an orphan, passed around among relatives, she was almost grateful there was no one left behind to mourn her. If there had been, she would’ve had too many regrets.

But now that she knew her fate, she wasn’t going to die so pointlessly.

Lise made a decision.

She would change.

“Cain…”

She hesitated over whether to add an honorific, but decided against it—she didn’t want him suspecting she knew his true identity.

“Yes, my lady?”

Cain smiled, his eyes crinkling. That charming, practiced smile would’ve once made her heart race, but not anymore.

“From now on, serve Lilia. Not me.”

---

Cain had worked at the Berium estate for ten years. Lilia had only been there for one. Since their paths rarely crossed, their relationship was still just that of a noble’s second daughter and a slave.

For their love story to truly begin, the villainess’s torment was essential—but that villainess no longer had any intention of playing her role.

So she had to find another way.

Lise planned to push them together instead.

They needed to see each other often for love to blossom—and for Cain to take Lilia with him when he returned to the imperial palace.

It was a bit earlier than the original timeline, but that shouldn’t matter.

They were destined to fall in love anyway—might as well speed things up.

She assumed Cain would be thrilled. Finally free of his insufferable mistress. But…

“My lady, your breakfast.”

The next morning, Cain arrived right on schedule, carrying her meal with that same polite smile. Lise was stunned.

“Wh-why are you here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His tone implied the question was ridiculous as he set the tray on her bedside table.

“I’m here to serve you breakfast, my lady.”

“I told you to serve Lilia now.”

“…Were you being serious?”

Were you being serious?

“I thought you were just speaking out of turn. People sometimes do that after a major injury.”

It dawned on Lise.

Cain assumed her accident had left her mentally unstable.

“No. I meant it. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

Cain glanced at her legs.

“You still can’t move them properly.”

Now that he mentioned it…

Lise looked down at her legs, still not fully recovered.

The accident had temporarily paralyzed her due to spinal shock. Thankfully, sensation had returned quickly, but her legs remained weak.

The doctor said full recovery would take weeks.

Getting around her room or the halls in a wheelchair was manageable—the real problem was stairs. Without help, she couldn’t go up or down.

Cain was the only strong servant in the household. If not him, who else could she ask?

Mirabel? …No.

Ugh. Whatever. She’d just stay upstairs.

It wasn’t like she enjoyed going out anyway. Anything she needed could be brought to her.

More importantly, she couldn’t keep entangling herself with the crown prince—her future killer.

“I’ll manage. So just—”

“…”

“Go to Lilia. I already told her you’d be her personal attendant now.”

For the briefest moment—

The ever-present smile on Caina’ face flickered.

And in that split second, Lise saw it.

Cold. Hard. At times, even merciless—the true face of the novel’s male lead.

‘I had a feeling… but it’s really him.’

She’d vaguely suspected before, but now it hit her fully.

Cain was the male lead. And she—Lise Berium—was the villainess who’d harm the female lead and die by his hand. Their relationship began and ended right there. If she didn’t push him away now, her fate would unfold exactly as written.

“Why all of a sudden—”

Just as Cain started to speak, the door burst open.

“My lady, your medicine.”

It was Mirabel.

Lise exhaled in relief.

Mirabel entered with a small tray holding medicine and candy. As she handed Lise a bottle of bitter turquoise liquid, Cain stood.

“Then I’ll return later.”

With a light bow, he turned to leave—but Lise was too busy gulping down the medicine to pay attention.

The moment the bitter, astringent liquid hit her tongue, she grimaced. Mirabel quickly popped a candy into her mouth to soothe the taste.

Once the sweetness took over, Lise spoke.

“Call Mother for me.”

“Madam? She’s getting a massage right now—she said not to disturb her unless it’s urgent.”

“Tell her it is urgent.”

“…?”

“I’m going to meet potential suitors.”

Mirabel’s eyes widened.

And—

At the same moment, Cain’s hand, reaching for the doorknob, froze mid-air.

---

“Y-you want to meet suitors?”

“Yes.”

Her mother was momentarily speechless.

Understandable. Ever since Lise became obsessed with Cain, she’d rejected every marriage proposal that came her way.

And while part of it was her feelings for Cain, another reason was that Cain had ruined her standards. How could any noble son compare to the unfairly handsome man always at her side?

“Why the sudden change?”

Lise answered without hesitation.

“I just felt like it.”

“Then we’ll arrange it.”

Her mother, afraid she’d change her mind, didn’t press further. Besides, Lise was already twenty—a bit late for marriage in this world, where most wed in their late teens.

An unmarried daughter did nothing for her social standing. If anything, it made her look incompetent.

Immediately, her mother pulled out the stack of rejected proposals and began sorting through them, instructing servants to send word.

Listening to the updates from Mirabel, Lise smiled in satisfaction.

“This is going well.”

“Madam asked if you have any preferences?”

“Tell her I don’t.”

“You should at least have some standards. Otherwise, you’ll seem too easy.”

Mirabel’s concern stemmed from worry—was Lise lowering her standards because of the scar on her forehead?

But Lise, oblivious to her thoughts, just shrugged.

“What’s wrong with seeming a little easy? Playing hard to get isn’t attractive either.”

She’d already been too picky before. Now wasn’t the time to be choosy.

Just living under the same roof as Death’s harbinger was suffocating. She wanted out—fast.

The next day, her mother came to deliver the first appointment.

“We’ve arranged a meeting with Sir Fabrice, the eldest son of Count Rubent. Tomorrow at noon in the parlor.”

“Fabrice Rubent…”

Lise repeated the name quietly.

It sounded familiar, yet not.

Then it hit her.

Ah. That awkward, inarticulate man.

Brown hair, black eyes. Average height, slim build. A face that looked kind—too kind.

In short, utterly unremarkable.

“Not bad.”

Not good either.

“The Rubent earldom is rising in influence lately. Financially stable, too. Most importantly, the late countess was renowned for her virtue and integrity. A son raised by her is bound to have a good personality.”

‘Children inherit their parents’ personalities… So I take after Mother? Not a comforting thought.’

Lise stifled a bitter laugh.

Meanwhile, her mother listed the etiquette points to remember.

“Practice your greetings and manners. And your walking—you can’t enter in a wheelchair.”

“I know.”

Lise answered without hesitation. She’d already planned to.