chapter 03
“Wait.”
Rosé reached out her hand toward Doana. At her gesture, the maids gasped sharply. Rosé was not usually someone who treated the maids harshly, but Doana’s remark just now had been quite dangerous. They all thought Rosé was about to punish Doana severely. However, their expectations were completely wrong.
“Let’s talk. You and me.”
“Why should I? If you’ve got something to say, say it here.”
“…!”
“Doana!”
Doana crossed her arms leisurely and stared straight at Rosé. Watching her bold attitude, Rosé felt certain.
That’s definitely not how a maid would act toward a countess. She must have been possessed too—just like me.
Stepping past the fidgeting maids, Rosé stood in front of Doana. Seen up close, Doana’s looks were fairly pleasing. Was good looks some kind of bonus for those who got possessed? Her hair was a bit dry, but she had beautiful blond locks, and her delicate features were quite pretty. Lowering her voice so only Doana could hear, Rosé whispered,
“I think I can explain why you can’t wake up from the dream—and why there’s no smartphone here.”
“…!”
Doana’s eyes went wide at Rosé’s words.
“If you’re curious, follow me.”
Rosé smiled and turned around. After standing there blankly for a moment, Doana hurried after her. The maids watched the two with murmurs.
“Is she going to punish her severely?”
“Maybe she’s planning to throw her out of the estate.”
“But why is the madam speaking so politely?”
“She must be really angry at Doana’s attitude. You know how the madam sometimes uses polite speech when she’s furious, right? You know the saying—gentle people are scarier when they’re angry. Tsk, tsk. Doana’s got some nerve. What on earth is she thinking?”
They clicked their tongues as they watched Rosé and Doana walk away.
Contrary to the maids’ worries, Rosé and Doana were strolling through the garden in a friendly atmosphere.
“So… you’re saying this isn’t all a dream?”
“That’s right. I only woke up here yesterday. And I realized this world is inside a novel.”
“Inside a novel… that’s insanely ridiculous.”
Doana still looked unconvinced.
“Then how do we get back home?”
“That… I don’t know either.”
Most protagonists in the novels she’d read ended up settling down in the possessed world.
“Then… are we dead in our original world?”
“I woke up here right after being crushed under a building. So I think it’s safe to say I died.”
“My god! What building? It’s not that outlet mall in Dokbok-dong, is it?”
“The outlet was the building next to it. Were you nearby too when you died?”
“No. I saw the building collapse right in front of me, panicked and ran—and then got hit by a car.”
“Oh my… Then we died on the same day, and ended up possessed here together.”
Because they’d died on the same day, Rosé felt closer to Doana. Doana felt the same way.
“Let’s be friends. It’s fate that we met like this.”
Doana slowly extended her hand toward Rosé. Rosé didn’t dislike the gesture. Sharing the same fate of being brought here, she didn’t think becoming friends would be bad. She carefully took Doana’s hand.
“Okay.”
“Let’s drop the formal speech too. We look about the same age anyway.”
Rosé nodded at Doana’s suggestion. The servants’ words about Doana being a “maid” crossed her mind, but since Rosé planned to leave this place anyway, she readily agreed.
“Sure.”
“So, did you originally live in Dokbok-dong?”
“No. I lived in Seoul originally, and then… something happened, so I went down there.”
Rosé trailed off and smiled awkwardly.
“Oh my, Seoul! I lived in Seoul for quite a long time too.”
Doana squealed and grabbed Rosé’s hand.
“When I was in high school, I transferred to Seoul. I lived there for over ten years. Which neighborhood did you live in?”
“Seocho District.”
“Really? I went to high school there. Seoae High School!”
Doana spoke excitedly. Rosé couldn’t help but be shocked—she too had graduated from Seoae High School.
“My real name was Lee Gyeoru. My mom said she named me so I’d live without ever losing, but it’s so old-fashioned and I hate it.”
Doana complained that she seemed cursed when it came to names, and that she didn’t like being called “Doana” either. The moment Doana spoke her original name, Rosé’s heart dropped heavily. Her fingertips began to tremble.
Lee… Gyeoru?
How could she ever forget that name? Her friend of ten years—and the woman who had stolen her husband.
“…How old are you?”
It wasn’t a common name, but it was still too early to be certain. Her clenched fist trembled as she tried to stay calm, but her heart thumped uneasily.
“Twenty-nine. Too young to die, really. I even married early and had a husband.”
Her heart sank. Blood seemed to rush backward through her body, and her lips quivered. She was now certain—the woman standing before her was Lee Gyeoru, the friend she had once trusted.
Lee Gyeoru… why are you here with me…!
Why was the woman she never wanted to see again, even after death, standing beside her now?
“You’re looking at me like you know me. Don’t tell me we’re the same age or something?”
Doana smiled cluelessly and chattered on, asking Rosé for her name. Unable to resist her insistence, Rosé finally spoke.
“…Kim Hana.”
“Hana? Sorry, I don’t really recognize that name.”
Rosé told Doana the name she’d taken after her divorce—not “Kim Byeolha,” the name she’d used for over twenty years.
“I was really quiet and didn’t have many friends, so you might not know me.”
She brushed it off vaguely, worried Doana might sense something odd. How cruel fate was—to let a grudge from a past life follow her even here. Her voice trembled. Facing Gyeoru, who had betrayed her, it was hard to remain calm.
“Oh, really? I have a friend who’s kind of like you.”
Doana glanced at Rosé thoughtfully. Something about her atmosphere resembled Byeolha—her ten-year friend who had suddenly disappeared one day.
Well, there are plenty of timid people like that.
In truth, Byeolha hadn’t been timid. She was quiet, yes, but she got along well with others and was so nosy she practically meddled in everyone’s business. But to carefree, outspoken Gyeoru, Byeolha must have seemed timid. Doana shook her head. Not only was the name different, but if this woman really were Byeolha, she wouldn’t be reacting this calmly.
She’d probably be crying her eyes out, acting like some tragic heroine, after seeing the day I stole her husband.
Recalling that day, Doana smirked. Byeolha, unable to say a word, just crying helplessly—it had been ridiculous. If it had been her, she would’ve thrown a drink or pulled hair.
Well, I’d never let my husband get stolen in the first place.
Doana’s lips curved into a crooked smile. Romance had always been easy for her. Even in her previous life, she’d been quite attractive. No one she set her sights on ever resisted—whether he had a girlfriend or a wife. In fact, men with partners fell even more easily. Fools. Idiots. Their women smiled happily, not knowing their men were holding her every night, even bragging that they’d never meet another man like theirs again. That moment thrilled Doana the most—secretly sharing love with another woman’s man, right under her nose.
Coming back from her thoughts, Doana flashed a fake smile at Rosé. To gather information, she needed to get close to her. To survive here, using Rosé would be best.
“So what’s this novel about?”
At Doana’s friendly question, Rosé quietly studied her. In the past, she might have thought, Doana’s so friendly, but now she knew better. She could roughly guess Doana’s intentions.
She thinks I’m someone of high status and wants to get close to me. And pick up information about the novel while she’s at it.
With a gentle tone, Rosé replied,
“Something predictable. A passionate romance between a man and a woman.”
She deliberately left out the part about it being a dark, miserable story.
“Oh, a romance novel? Then what role do I play?”
Doana looked at Rosé with sparkling anticipation. Wearing an innocent expression, Rosé crushed that hope.
“You’re a nameless extra.”
“…What?”
Doana’s face stiffened as her voice trailed off. She looked utterly unable to believe that she played such an insignificant role. After all, she’d always lived believing she was the protagonist.
“Then who’s the main character?”
“The main character is Count Wens. And me—the countess.”
Doana’s eyes shook in disbelief. She clearly hadn’t imagined Rosé could be the protagonist.
“…You?”
“Yeah.”
Someone so plain is the protagonist? She’s just dressed up—if you really look at her, I’m way prettier.
Frowning, Doana looked at Rosé, her pale pink hair neatly braided. How tacky… If it were me, I’d dress far more beautifully. Suppressing her displeasure, she asked about the male lead.
“What kind of person is Count Wens?”
If someone like you is the heroine, I can already imagine the hero.
Rosé stared straight at Doana, who was clearly looking down on her, and began to describe Eric as the most wonderful male lead imaginable.
“He was handsome enough that I understood love at first sight. The story says I fell for Eric and chased after him.”
“Really? I haven’t seen anyone particularly handsome since I got here.”
Doana still sounded indifferent, clearly unconvinced.
“Well, he’s a bit blunt with me, but…”
Seizing on that, Doana cut in, enjoying the chance to belittle someone while pretending not to.
“Blunt?”
“I guess it’s because I was the one who clung to him and pushed for the marriage.”
“Oh my. Women do that too? I wouldn’t know—I’ve never done anything like that. How unfortunate. Cheer up.”
Though she wore a sympathetic look, the corners of Doana’s lips twitched upward.
“It’s fine. He may seem blunt on the outside, but he thinks about me a lot inside. He’s just bad at expressing it. He’s really a good person.”
This was Rosé’s second life—she was no longer an easy target. She deflected Doana’s jab effortlessly and even smiled calmly.
“Lucky you. Some people couldn’t even sleep, working all night.”
At that moment, Eric appeared in the distance. Looking exhausted, he frowned and walked toward them with a displeased expression. Seeing the neat-looking man standing before them, Doana’s eyes widened, and she poked Rosé’s side.
“Who’s that?”
“My husband. Eric de Wens, the count.”
At Rosé’s words, Doana stared at Eric, unable to hide the strange gleam in her eyes.
