On the Lunaris Festival, the palace banquet glittered with candlelight. It lasted until the Crown Prince rose and dismissed every consort of his for the sake of his first love, the woman he had never stopped idolizing.

Everyone else accepted the gold coins from the prince and returned home for reunions. I had nowhere to go. I found a rope and hanged myself at the gate of the Withered Court.

I had been reborn into this world and spent 21 years locked in the System's mission. It demanded that I court four designated male leads and earn absolute affection from at least one of them. I failed every route. The final path collapsed in my hands.

The System offered one last mercy. If this body died, I could return home and reunite with my family.

As my consciousness slipped away, I thought I heard someone scream my name, as if the world itself were breaking.

The Withered Court gate was not very high. After stacking two washbasins beneath the lintel, I finally managed to hook the cloth and haul myself up.

I was almost home.

The thought struck like stepping into a warm room after a blizzard. I ached to see my family again. I kicked off hard. Pain exploded at my throat, and the air vanished. The world collapsed into a brutal, ringing squeeze.

My thoughts blurred at the edges. Somewhere far away, lively, bright palace music continued to play, yet utterly indifferent to me. Each beat faded, as if someone were slowly lowering the volume.

Then everything I had lived through here rushed past in shattered, glittering fragments.

Twenty-one years in the Great Wayland Dynasty. I had been reborn into this body before I could even form words. I had four targets. The System had laid out the rules with brutal clarity: earn Absolute Affection from any one of them, and the version of me in my original world would be cured of the terminal illness waiting there like a sealed door.

Four chosen men, brilliant and untouchable, upheld the nation. Every one of them came to hate me to the bone because of the heroine. This was not the kind of hatred that sought explanations or apologies. It demanded a corpse.

In the end, the System marked my mission with a single verdict: Failure.

Thus, I gave them what they wanted. I was leaving.

Through the haze, I thought I heard someone shout my name. Then my breath caught, and for a brief moment, I couldn't inhale. But in the next instant, my lungs finally gave way, pulling in air once more.

A basin of icy water crashed over my head and face. I choked and coughed as the shock tore sound from me in harsh, broken bursts.

Water streamed through my hair and down my neck, soaking my thin clothes.

I blinked hard and looked up.

A man in a purple robe stood before me. Prayer beads slid between his fingers. His expression was dark and flat with disgust, as if I had crawled out of a ditch and polluted his air.

That face was far too familiar.

My mind lagged behind my body. The name escaped before I could stop it. "Henry?"

The moment the word left my mouth, regret punched through the remaining dizziness.

Disgust creased Henry Somerset's brow. "Do not call me by my name. You are not worthy."

Of course.

The cold young man before me was Great Wayland's infamous Grand Administrator, powerful enough that people lowered their voices when they spoke of him. He was also one of my targets.

When Henry's family was slaughtered, I had risked my life to drag him from a pile of corpses. He had been half dead, broken, and clinging to life by a thread. I had taken him home and treated him for months with my own hands.

At that time, he had lost everyone. He had been like a wounded animal, all teeth and terror, rejecting every scrap of closeness I offered.

I had forced his fingers to loosen their grip, one by one. I had coaxed him back toward living. I had guided him away from the ways he hurt himself when grief became unbearable.

He had sworn he would clear his family's name. He had entered the palace under a false identity, climbed step by step through filth and blood, and forged himself into the most feared power behind the throne.

I had seen him at his lowest. I had been the person he trusted most. But that had been four years ago.

Four years ago, on the night of the Lunaris Festival, I married the Crown Prince. Everyone came to congratulate us. Everyone offered blessings. Even the System believed success was within reach.

Then the heroine, Roxanne Frostwell, left a letter and vanished.

She wrote as if every stroke tore at her flesh. She named me outright. She claimed I had lured her to a ruined temple, where beggars violated her.

She stated she no longer had the dignity to face anyone. She could only leave and grow old alone in a place where no one would ever find her.

My biological brother threw me out of the house and swore to sever all ties.

The Crown Prince stripped me of my title as Crown Princess and reduced me to a lowly consort of the Eastern Palace.

Henry used the convenience of his position as Chief Palace Administrator to have me sent to the Withered Court. Every day, I washed the staff's clothing until my hands split and bled.

"Roxy is out there suffering who knows what," he had said, calm as a judge passing sentence. "A vicious woman like you should pay for your sins every single day."

For four years in the Withered Court, people wore me down. They humiliated me and used me. No matter what I said or did, no one believed me.

Now Roxanne had returned. The Crown Prince decided he wanted one life, one love, and one woman. Even the Withered Court was no longer a place I was permitted to rot in.

Thus, the System made its call: mission failed.

All I could do was die quickly, return home, and use whatever time remained there to live out my final days.

Henry snapped his fingers. Two young stewards stepped forward and dragged me up, one on each side. My feet barely brushed the ground.

When he noticed the red marks around my neck, mockery flickered in his narrow eyes. "The stage is not even built, and you are already addicted to acting."

His lips curled. "Do you wish to die? You chose the wrong place. The Withered Court is too remote. No one will be here to watch your performance."

A bitter laugh tore at my throat. He truly believed I had staged it all.

"Administrator Somerset," I said hoarsely. "If the Withered Court is so remote, why are you here? Did you come on purpose, just to see me?"

For a brief instant, his face tightened. Then he sneered, "Roxy is back. On a reunion day like this, I will not allow you to ruin her happiness. If you insist on dying, fine. Die somewhere farther away."

He ordered them to throw me out of the castle gate, tossing me and my small bundle aside like refuse. He looked down at me from above, as if I were filth stuck to his shoe.

"Once you are out, do you think I will still care whether you live or die?" he said coldly.

I lifted my chin and gave him a bright smile.

That was perfect.

I took nothing with me. I ran straight to the moat bridge outside the palace walls and hurled myself over.

The moat was so cold it felt sharp.

I did not struggle. I let myself sink, slow and steady, as the water closed over my head.

I was almost home. I wondered, in a distant way, what flavor cakes my parents had bought this year.

In the darkness, someone clamped onto my wrist. The grip was brutal. I was hauled upward, lungs aflame as I broke the surface.

"Victoria Frostwell! Have you completely lost your mind?!"

I opened my eyes. The Grand Administrator, who had seemed calm only moments ago, was soaked from head to toe. His face had gone pale. He coughed hard, water spilling from his mouth, his gaze fixed on me as if he feared to blink.

"You think pretending to die will erase what you did to Roxy?" he snapped. "You think this makes it even?"

I met his eyes in silence.

"Then let me really die," I said. "Would that not be exactly what you want?"

He froze. Then his fierce eyes reddened at once as if struck.

"Roxy just came back," he said hoarsely. "I only didn't want her to worry about you again."

I watched the faint red creep into the corners of his eyes, and something old stirred in my chest.

When the Somerset family was condemned, Henry had been crushed by public scorn. His body was frail, his mind burdened beyond its strength. Whenever he felt wronged, he never explained himself. He would sit in silence, eyes burning red at the edges, until only my voice could soothe him.

But now, what grievance did he still have to cling to? For the past four years, it had been his unspoken orders that sent stewards and maids to torment me.

It was clear enough. I was not going to be allowed to die here.

I bent down, picked up my bundle, and turned toward the road that led home.

As soon as I took a step, Henry seized my wrist again. His grip tightened, and he stayed close behind me, step for step.

"You have always been full of schemes," he said coldly. "If I don't keep an eye on you, who knows what madness you'll attempt next. I'll hand you over to your brother. After that, I won't care what happens to you."

I stopped.

In this world, the person who wanted me dead more than anyone else was my elder brother, Vincent Frostwell.

When I was dismissed from the palace, I had not even considered returning to the Frostwell household.

Now that I thought about it, returning might give me a better chance to leave for good.

-

The Frostwell residence was in chaos. Housekeepers rushed to clean Roxanne's room. The courtyard overflowed with oleander, her favorite flowers. White and pink blossoms filled the air with a heavy scent.

Vincent stood in the yard, his face lit by a bright smile, a gift box in his hand.

The instant he saw me, the smile vanished.

"You still have the audacity to come back?" he said flatly. "I thought you would've died in the palace by now."

I stood there, stunned. I remembered a time when my brother had not been like this.

Our parents died young. From childhood onward, it was just the two of us, clinging to each other as the only family we had.

The Frostwells were a medical family. Vincent wanted to enter the palace and become head of the Royal Medical Unit.

I climbed mountains to gather herbs so we could afford his journey to the capital.

One rainy day, the trail grew slick. I slipped while collecting a rare herb and broke my leg.

That was the first time I ever saw my gentle brother lose his temper. He ran to me with one shoe missing, wrapped his arms around me, and cried. He said he would rather give up his chance to go to Crownspire than lose me.

He said that without me, he had no home. Without me, nothing held meaning.

But after we took in Roxanne, I was no longer his only little sister.

Roxanne was frail. Vincent fed her the pills I had spent years refining, medicine I planned to sell so I could buy his ceremonial clothes for entering the palace.

She found the pills bitter and spat them out when no one watched.

When I caught her and spoke sharply, my brother accused me of greed. "Victoria, are your pills really more important than Roxy's life?"

Later, when Roxanne ran away, Vincent crushed my fingers and expelled me from the family.

"A vicious person like you has no right to practice our medicine," he said. "From today on, I no longer have a sister."

The hands I had trained for over a decade were rendered useless. Even in the Withered Court, I washed clothes more slowly than the others. I endured endless contempt.

Henry's expression shifted. He hesitated, then spoke. "Roxy came back. His Highness dismissed the concubines. She couldn't accept it. Just now, right in front of me, she tried to take her own life twice."

Vincent frowned. "Women's tricks. Crying, making scenes, threatening to hang themselves. Administrator Somerset, you're young and clever. How could you be fooled by her? I know Victoria best. Someone like her would never truly choose death."

Henry's face relaxed. He shook his head with a short, self-mocking laugh, as if embarrassed by his earlier loss of control.

Vincent lifted the box and looked at me with open disdain. "I'm going to the palace to bring this to Roxy. I don't have time for you. Before I come back tonight, you'd better already be gone—"

Before he could finish, I plucked an oleander leaf from the plant beside me and placed it in my mouth.

Vincent's face drained of color.

Oleander leaves were highly toxic, and everyone knew it. Yet as long as Roxanne liked them, Vincent could make them bloom in the Frostwell household all year.

I once feared someone might eat them by mistake. I argued against planting a poisonous flower in the courtyard.

Roxanne cried herself sick over it. "Does Vicky hate me so much that she will not even let you plant flowers for me, Vince?"

Vincent pulled her behind him and sneered at me. "If you want to target Roxy, at least come up with a better excuse. Who would ever eat something this bitter by accident? Anyone would spit it out the moment it touched their mouth."

I never imagined it would become the tool that finally let me leave.

The sharp, overwhelming bitterness exploded across my tongue. Nausea surged. I forced it down and swallowed.

This time, I was really going home.

Vincent dropped the box and rushed forward. He slapped my back hard, then pried my mouth open with rough fingers, scraping and digging inside.

"Spit it out!" he shouted. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

I struggled wildly. Half my body went numb. I clenched my teeth and refused to let go, biting down until his fingers bled.

He sucked in a sharp breath and struck my face.

"Just because the Crown Prince does not want you anymore, you want to die like this?" he snarled. "Where is the backbone of the Frostwell family? Roxy and His Highness are a match made in heaven. After four years in the Withered Court, have you still not figured that out?"

Ignoring his bleeding hand, he ordered the maids to bring an emetic pill and forced it down my throat.

I vomited until the world spun. I collapsed onto the ground like discarded mud and let out a hoarse, broken laugh.

"So this is the Frostwell family's backbone?" I said weakly. "You did not even bother to investigate. You decided I hurt Roxanne and drove your own sister out of the house?"

Vincent's face drained of color. He had nothing to say.

Suddenly, frantic hoofbeats thundered outside.

A young steward in green rushed in, panic written across his face. He bowed to Henry. "Grand Administrator! His Highness orders you to bring the disgraced Consort Frostwell into the palace for questioning. Lady Roxanne is missing!"

Henry and Vincent exchanged a glance, then turned together and glared at me on the ground.

"No wonder you kept staging suicide scenes," Vincent snapped. "So this was to cover up your crime. Where did you hide Roxy? What are you planning to do to her now?"

I truly had no idea where Roxanne had gone. Still, this was the perfect chance. They loved her more than their own lives. Maybe they would lose control and kill me.

They did not wait for an answer. They dragged my filthy, half-dead body back into the palace.

-

The Crown Prince, Caelum Valebrook, did not waste words. He reached out and seized my chin, forcing my head up. "Where is Roxy?"

I met the gaze of the man who had once been my husband in this world. Regret surged like bile.

When I first met Caelum, he had been hunted and wounded at the bottom of a mountain ravine. I hid him in a cave and led his pursuers away.

That happened just after Roxanne took my fiancé. My childhood sweetheart, the young general, broke our engagement. I became the capital's laughingstock.

Caelum learned of it and offered himself in marriage. He gave me the title of Crown Princess. He said it was not only repayment. He said he was moved.

Once Roxanne appeared, Caelum's gaze drifted to her again and again. They admired the moon together, played chess, and talked for hours. There was no longer room for me.

When Roxanne disappeared, Caelum used punishment on me for the first time.

When the whip struck my lower abdomen, blood soaked the floor. Only then did I learn I had been carrying a child. Not yet full-term, and lost just like that.

I did not answer. A flicker of killing intent crossed Caelum's eyes.

"It seems that unless you suffer a little, you will not speak," he said coolly.

He ordered the torture devices brought in.

Henry carried out the punishment himself. Vincent fed me pills that kept me conscious and sharpened every sensation of pain.

Panic finally broke through. I wanted to die, but I did not want to suffer before I did. I struggled desperately.

The first whip cracked across my back. Pain tore through me and raced into every limb. My lips trembled, yet no scream came.

"Kill me," I whispered.

Caelum watched with cold interest, the corner of his mouth lifting.

"You think I will go soft?" he asked. "I will ask you one last time. Where is Roxy?"

I lifted my head. My face had lost all color. I smiled with ugly triumph.

"Roxanne?" I said. "I killed her. You all love her so much, do you not? Go on. Kill me and avenge her."

Caelum's eyes burned red. He drew his sword and drove it straight into my chest.

As my awareness shattered, Roxanne's voice sounded outside the hall. "Everyone's here? Then we can have a reunion night. Ah. Why is there so much blood?"