Crown Prince, I hate you!

This doesn’t make sense.

The situation was undeniably absurd.

And yet, everything seemed to have truly reverted.

My family, my people, even myself—it all aligned perfectly with five years ago. My mind swirled with confusion, but the disarray didn’t last long.

I’m back.

I had returned to the time when my family and my people were still here.

It was different from the time when I had lost everything. Now, I had the chance to live again. A chance to rebuild my life from the ruins that had destroyed me.

A tremor of emotions ran through my fingertips—elation, confusion, fear, and joy, all coexisting at once.

With that thought, my dazed steps turned into a sprint.

The destination was none other than the dining room.

Creak—

I pushed the door open to find a woman waiting for me inside.

“Beryan.”

“…Mother.”

Standing there was my mother, the woman I had last seen two years ago.

She wasn’t lying weak on her bed as I had so often seen her, pale and frail. Instead, her complexion was healthy, and she smiled at me warmly.

“I don’t want you to suffer.”
“I’m sorry.”

The woman who had passed away two years ago from an unknown illness was alive.

Her voice, which had trembled with guilt every time she spoke to me, no longer sounded fragile or uncertain.

I clenched my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms, though I barely noticed the sting. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

“…Did you sleep well?”

I forced a smile to hide the storm of emotions within me. My mother’s expression softened as she returned my smile and gestured for me to come closer.

“Come, sit with me.”

She pointed to the seat beside her. As I took my place, the servants began bringing out food.

For a moment, I was overwhelmed by the simple happiness of sharing this meal with her again. But as the dishes began to fill the table—bread, soup, and salmon steak—my expression slowly hardened.

What’s wrong with the food?

It wasn’t just that I had grown used to dining in the royal palace. No, something was genuinely off.

The soup was paler than it should have been, and the salmon looked slightly dull.

As the dishes, so unbefitting of a noble family’s table, were placed before me, memories I had momentarily forgotten came rushing back.

“Our family is crumbling.”

The Claudy family hadn’t always been in decline. Once, we had been a prominent and well-regarded house.

But one rumor in the social circles had been enough to bring it all crashing down.

“The Claudy family is siding with the nobility faction?”
“The Imperial Knight Commander? Surely not.”

At first, it was a baseless and absurd claim that should have blown over.

But when its source was revealed to be a powerful and respected marquis’s house, it gained traction, spreading rapidly. Combined with conflicts my mother had with members of high society and issues involving my father, the rumor solidified into perceived truth.

As our reputation cracked, those who had once allied with us began to pull away.

In the world of high society, rumors were like indelible marks. Even baseless accusations were rarely doubted, and families associated with the accused were treated with suspicion.

The unwritten rule of the social world was simple: Avoid families that have fallen from grace.

Our family was no exception.

While the Claudy family didn’t collapse immediately—it was an old and established name—the pressure we faced drastically narrowed our standing.

We were ostracized from social gatherings, and alliances with other families dissolved.

“And later, when the marquis’s schemes came to light, it was already too late.”

As for the sparse table before me, it reflected the cost of our household’s struggles. Meals were now prepared with whatever funds were left after essential expenses. Luxurious feasts were a thing of the past.

“I turned to Haelon’s hand out of desperation after that.”

My grip tightened around the knife in my hand.

Why had I done it? How foolish I had been.

Though I had burned through countless regrets, the embers still smoldered, filling my heart with smoke.

Discomfort clawed at my chest, and I shook my head as if to physically dislodge the thoughts.

It’s fine.

This time, I was back. I had enough time to fix everything and avoid the paths that led me astray.

At least, that’s what I thought.

“Have you finished preparing for your visit to the royal palace tomorrow?”

My mother’s voice pierced through my thoughts.

For a moment, the weight of her words hung in the air.

“What?”

I repeated my mother’s words, as if I had misheard her.

“Tomorrow is the Crown Prince’s coming-of-age ceremony. Every noble family is required to attend.”

Clang—

The knife slipped from my hand and clattered onto the plate.

“…Mother, what is today’s date?”

“It’s May 12th.”

Ah, of course.

I had returned to the past—five years prior. But those five years, which once felt so long, now seemed painfully brief.

I had been sent back to the day before the Crown Prince’s coming-of-age ceremony.

I was on the cusp of my first fateful encounter with Haelon.

°˖✧๐·°º✲º°·๐✧˖°

The clock’s ticking was deafening in the stillness of the early morning—1 a.m., to be precise.

The quiet wouldn’t last long; the mansion would soon be bustling with activity. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I found sleep impossible.

Why did it have to be this moment I returned to?

In this life, I wanted to avoid him at all costs, but attendance at his coming-of-age ceremony was mandatory for all noble families.

Father wasn’t in the capital, and Mother had long since withdrawn from social life. I knew all too well what that meant.

I would have to go in their stead.

My head throbbed. Could I use a sudden headache as an excuse to skip the ceremony?

The thought was as futile as it was persistent. Eventually, exhaustion took hold, and I drifted into a light sleep.

°˖✧๐·°º✲º°·๐✧˖°

The next morning.

Sunlight poured through the windows, lighting up my room and forcing me to open my eyes.

Ugh.

My body protested as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Barely a few hours of rest left me groggy and aching.

“Miss, wake up!”

Right on cue, Meysha burst in with her usual wake-up call.

Even though I had experienced this exact scenario five years ago, it felt new, as if I were reliving a forgotten memory.

“I’m awake, Meysha,” I mumbled.

The words had barely left my mouth when she threw the door open, her eyes sparkling with an energy that made me uneasy.

“Do you know how busy today is going to be, Miss? Let’s move quickly!”

Ignoring my sluggish movements, Meysha all but pushed me toward the bathroom.

Creak—

Inside, the scent of rose oil filled the air, already diffused into the bathwater.

Sploosh.

The warm water overflowed slightly as I stepped into the tub, accompanied by a soft cascade of bubbles.

It’s warm.

Sinking into the bath, I let Meysha assist me. It had been so long since I felt such simple comfort.

For a brief moment, bittersweet memories threatened to surface, but I quickly clapped my cheeks with both hands, banishing the thoughts.

There was no time for reflection—not now.

Once the bath was done, I returned to my room, towel-drying my hair. Meysha was already hard at work selecting a dress and accessories from my wardrobe.

Seeing her labor so diligently, I realized just how much effort went into preparing me.

And yet, all that effort led to marrying him.

Whoever said hard work always paid off was clearly mistaken.

A pout formed on my lips, catching Meysha’s attention.

“What’s wrong now, Miss?”

Her concern only added to my guilt. Meysha had endured so much because of me.

When I joined the royal palace, I brought Meysha with me as my personal maid. I wanted to reward her loyalty by dressing her in fine clothes and ensuring she ate well. But instead, she became a target.

Helen, with her cruelty, often insulted and abused Meysha, mocking her for being a commoner.

“How dare someone like you touch me?”
“Filthy thing.”

I had known about the abuse. I had wanted to defend Meysha, to demand justice for her.

But Haelon had always intervened on Helen’s behalf.

“It’s just a maid. There’s no need to make a scene over something so trivial.”

Even then, Meysha had smiled through swollen cheeks and whispered, “It’s okay, Your Grace.”

All I could do was hold back my tears and apply ointment to her wounds. It was the first time I truly hated my own powerlessness.

“Miss, why the long face?”

Meysha’s voice broke my reverie. She approached me, worry written all over her face.

I hesitated, unsure how to respond, then gave her a faint smile.

°˖✧๐·°º✲º°·๐✧˖°

“Miss, which dress should we prepare?”

“Dress?”

Last time, I chose the plainest dress to avoid drawing attention.

My gaze wandered to a red dress hanging in the corner.

“That one.”

“This dress?”

Meysha’s expression turned curious.

“But you don’t like red, Miss. This was a gift you tucked away without ever wearing.”

Did I really?

The memory came rushing back—unwanted and vivid.

Helen’s radiant golden hair and striking red eyes.

She had often worn bold red dresses, exuding elegance and confidence.

I remembered the small smile Haelon gave her whenever she stood by his side in those crimson gowns. Hoping to catch his attention, I had foolishly mimicked her.

What a pointless effort.

“What’s the matter? Jealous of me?”

The memory of her mocking words brought another sharp pang to my head. The red dress felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of my past humiliation.

I had returned to the past, yet my habits still clung to me, unbidden and unwelcome.

I can’t let the past control me anymore.

“No, not that one. Let’s pick something else.”

After a moment’s thought, I pointed to a blue dress hanging in the distance—a choice I would never have made in my previous life.

“That blue one. And don’t worry about keeping it simple. Use as many accessories as you’d like.”

Meysha blinked in surprise at my unusual tone but quickly rolled up her sleeves with determination.

“Leave it to me, Miss.”