The Ghost Marquess Possessed Me, and I Regressed
1.
I am Agnes Millia Middelharニス.[^note]
I was born the second of the twins of Grand Duke Michaelis, the head of the Middelharニス Grand Duchy—one of the distant collateral imperial families of the Hartania Empire.
My older sister, Seraphina Irene Middelharニス, and I were identical twins. Born just minutes apart, my sister and I were mirror images of each other in both appearance and physique.
Except for one thing: the red birthmark on the back of my neck.
Everyone who saw that mark on my newborn neck gasped in absolute shock. Because of its blazing, sun-like shape, it evoked the symbol of Surtr, the mythological demon of fire.
People whispered endlessly about my birthmark. Some speculated that I might be the incarnation of a demon, while others pointed fingers, claiming that the Grand Duke and Duchess had committed wicked deeds, leaving the stigma of a sinner branded upon their child.
At first, my parents despised the people spreading such rumors, but gradually, they began to despise me—the very cause of those rumors.
To hide the mark on my neck, I wrapped a scarf around it every waking moment. I did so in the hope that my parents might hate me just a little bit less.
Yet, it was all useless. To them, I was not a child; I was a shameful monster and a thorn in their side.
In contrast, my sister Seraphina was my parents’ pride and joy.
They lavished their unconditional love upon my sister, who was pristine and without a single flaw. If my sister desired something of mine, they did not hesitate to take it from me and give it to her.
I wanted to escape from this household as fast as possible, even if just for a single day.
“Agnes, we have decided upon your marriage partner. It is Ash Lucius Winterton, the Marquess of the Western March.”
Therefore, when my father unilaterally decided upon my engagement without regard for my wishes, I accepted it without a word of complaint.
Even though the match was far beneath my status as a Grand Duchess—coming from a mere baronetcy and specializing in ominous black magic—I did not mind. Unlike my sister, who was slated to inherit everything from the house, I possessed nothing. The only way for me to leave this household was through marriage.
However, about three months after our engagement, my fiancé, Marquess Ash Winterton, collapsed after being ambushed by enemy forces during a battle.
“The Marquess has been struck simultaneously by a virulent poison and powerful curse magic.” “Unfortunately, there is no known treatment at present. At best, he will likely only survive for another half-year.”
The physicians and priests who examined him delivered a dismal prognosis. Upon hearing this news, people assumed that the Grand Duke would surely break off the engagement now that the Marquess had been reduced to this state.
Yet, contrary to everyone’s expectations, my father did not break off the engagement. In fact, he forced the marriage through with even greater tenacity. His reasoning was that abandoning a man who had become a living corpse while protecting the Empire would severely tarnish his own reputation and that of our family.
In the end, accustomed as I was to my father’s coercion and abuse, I powerlessly accepted the decision.
Thus, I married Ash Winterton.
And half a year later.
Following the death of my husband, Ash Winterton, and after I had inherited his entire estate, I was murdered by the hands of my parents.
At that time, they coldly sneered at me as I begged for my life, hurling vicious words:
“Agnes, you are a failure. If it weren’t for you, we could have given your sister much more.” “We’ve raised a useless thing like you until now, so it’s time you paid us back.”
Only then did I understand. The reason my parents had married me off to Ash Winterton.
They had intended to usurp his wealth through me and hand every last coin over to my sister Seraphina.
“No matter how hard I tried, I was simply never meant to be loved.”
Adopting that truth I had so desperately wished to deny, I died a painful death.
At the very moment I felt death finally claim me, the voice of a stranger reached my ears:
‘Aren’t you resentful about dying like this, Agnes?’ ‘For someone like you, I will grant you…… a second chance.’ ‘Look forward to it. ……will be different, after all.’
He let out a low chuckle.
Before I could even ask what those words meant, I lost consciousness once more.
And when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the time before my death. Specifically, one week before my marriage to Marquess Ash Lucius Winterton.
I barely had time to rejoice over my revival before plunging into deep contemplation.
“How can I escape my parents’ clutches and live life on my own terms?”
The answer I arrived at was this:
First, I would marry Ash Lucius Winterton just as my parents demanded. Afterward, as the Marchioness of Winterton, I would secretly secure his assets to build up escape funds. At the same time, I would covertly find a way to slip out of the Empire.
Finally, once the Marquess passed away, I would take the accumulated funds and flee beyond the Empire’s borders. Having solidified my resolve, I married the man slated to die in half a year.
And then, I encountered his ghost, promptly fainting on the spot.
My hazy consciousness cleared up. Soon, my ears unstopped, and the sound of low breathing and footsteps reached me.
I slowly opened my eyes.
“Grand Duchess! Are you awake?”
[^note]: Note: Retaining the romanized spelling “Middelharニス” to ensure stylistic and character consistency with the prior text provided.
