My Former Wife Remembers All Past Cycles

༺ 𓆩  Prologue (E)  𓆪 ༻

「Translator — Creator」

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

A union of families that had long evaluated each other as worthy enemies and obstacles for future generations.

Though friction and fractures should have been common sense in such a situation, surprisingly, even after the engagement ceremony ended, no particular discord arose.

Though it might have been only superficial, peace had nonetheless settled upon the two houses.

And the murmurings within each family began to subside.

This was natural, as the "enemy" house they had cursed as casually as drinking water now had to be called their "in-law" house.

Unable to curse them, they likewise could not act with malice.

Though maintaining cordiality and respect might be difficult, when restraint enters one's speech and behavior, anger and resentment naturally fade.

Disapproving glances remained, but the accusations that had been hurled as if they'd sold out the kingdom were suppressed, and as a result, each family found some respite and began attending to matters they had neglected.

Our union seemed to carry many meanings.

A symbol of peace and a seam of unity.

That's why I worked even harder.

Even for a tranquility that might shatter at any moment, I did my best for a happy marriage.

I considered it only natural.

When two people who have lived different lives come together, I believed it was my duty as a husband and my responsibility as a human to carefully examine—not merely glance at—the aspects we needed to adjust to and understand about each other.

"Wife, shall we take an evening stroll together today? The starlight is unusually brilliant."

"...Unusually brilliant, you say. Sometimes I think you have a peculiar way with words."

"Haha. Is it strange?"

"No. Just curious and a little... amusing, I'd say."

Fortunately, Lirian kept pace with my steps.

Though our stride occasionally became tangled and creaked, we began building what could reasonably be called a "married" relationship.

I was grateful to Lirian.

For making me not regret following the unavoidable order to become useful to the family.

For allowing me to enjoy days without worry when the weather was fine.

If she had lamented and resented our arranged marriage, taking such peaceful walks would have been impossible.

Although shedding our thick shells and breaking down the massive walls to become a real couple was still a long way off, I firmly believed that if we continued like this, we would eventually arrive there.

It was probably around this time that small worries and anxieties began to take root; the unexpectedly beautiful wife, the daily peace, the developing relationship.

I wondered if all of this might have an expiration date.

Perhaps that's why.

Unless something special happened, I periodically visited my family to check on their situation, and my father and brothers all seemed preoccupied with resolving the family business that had piled up(?).

The brief half year passed.

It was peaceful and serene.

Even the family members who had whispered and vilified each other no longer did so.

Instead, they turned their attention to finding other subjects for gossip, and I redoubled my efforts for Lirian's happiness to stay clear of their gaze.

"...You seem somewhat different."

"Hmm? Suddenly?"

"I mean you seem a bit different from the Taelis people I've heard about and known until now."

"I hope that's a compliment."

"Well... it's not criticism."

One day after half a year had passed, she offered a single line of observation about me — it was the first time I'd heard such a thing, and it came quite late, but I was happy nonetheless.

Happy because we seemed a little closer, because it felt like recognition that I was doing well.

And so, we could become a true couple.

Like this, the harmony between our houses would continue.

I dared to think.

That year, it was winter.

"I've tried to match your efforts all this time, but I can't do it anymore."

"What...?"

In early winter, before the cold winds had even arrived, Lirian poured harsh words upon me.

"I'm sick of it. Pretending to be happy, playing the role of a symbol for our houses."

"What are you saying...?"

"You're truly naive. Unbecoming of someone from a noble house. How can you be of any use when you're so soft?"

"...Why are you suddenly like this? Did something happen?"

It was a dramatic change; there was no other way to describe it.

She, who had been walking in step with me as a spouse—if not warmly, at least not coldly—suddenly stopped and began pushing me away.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"It's not your fault, exactly. We were simply wrong from the beginning. I tried to endure and bear it, but now I'm exhausted."

"I'll do better. So you won't be tired, I'll do better..."

"Enough!!"

"..............."

Lirian raised her voice, veins standing out on her neck; as if she had changed masks, she glared at me with vicious eyes, which was truly devastating.

Where had things gone wrong, how could I fix it—my mind turned blank like a snow field in early winter.

"Li-Lirian...?"

"Haah— Do you know how stifling it's been trying to endure all this time? The more you try, the more suffocated I feel!!"

"I, I understand. I won't do it anymore, so please calm down."

I felt dazed, as if struck in the back of the head with a hammer.

My mind was like tangled thread—the more I tried to unravel it, the more knotted it became.

But I couldn't give up.

And I couldn't hesitate either.

Wondering if she had struggles I was unaware of, I traveled back and forth to the Emilhood mansion, striving to overcome this sudden crisis.

However.

CRASH—!!!

"Stop!! I told you to stop!! You're truly sickening!! Get out of here!!"

Our relationship only continued to deteriorate.

Just like a carriage racing downhill; a carriage that couldn't be stopped — I couldn't understand.

If there had been any warning signs, I might have understood a little, but for Lirian—who, though lukewarm, had been showing her own efforts—to suddenly rage and deny everything... no matter how I thought about it, I simply couldn't comprehend.

"Please... you weren't this kind of person, just why... how did it come to this..."

"Pfft, are you disappointed? Then tell the head of the Taelis house. Tell him you can't live with someone like me whose personality is in ruins!"

The more I tried to understand, to dissuade her, even to approach her... she only retreated further with absolute hatred.

It was a truly pure and blind contempt, ignited from who knows where; to the point of absurdity — to the point where I couldn't even gauge where things had gone wrong.

"Please, please. Don't be like this..."

"Stop acting so pathetically. Aren't you sick of it?"

"If only we could go back to before... I would do anything."

"Kyaah!! Stop saying such things!! It's so disgusting it makes me want to vomit!"

".................."

With each passing day, her reactions grew more extreme, and toward the end, she behaved abominably without even caring about the eyes of those around us.

I tried everything.

I cried, I begged, I brewed and fed her medicinal herbs, I even got angry.

But once hatred and rage began, they only grew fiercer, as if mocking my efforts, and she...

Instead, she only withered.

Instead, she only dried up.

And so.

Another long half year passed.

And then.

"Li-Lirian...?"

On a certain day during those hellish times.

Looking at my wife who had become a cold corpse, I lost consciousness.

Whoosh—!!!

It was the first regression.

🎕

I understood such reason.

Such purpose.

Such principle by which regression occurred remained unknown to me, but after dozens of regressions, I reached one certainty.

'When Lirian dies, I regress.'

The moment I returned to was always the same.

The final night of our betrothal ceremony.

The night Lirian, who had never before tasted wine, had wished to share a toast with her husband for the very first time.

That was the day I always returned to.

At first, her mere existence filled me with overwhelming joy.

I had flung my arms around her, unable to contain the emotion, only to be treated like some deranged intruder.

Though she had scorned me, despised me—just the fact that I could be with her again had been enough.

And so, not wanting to waste the second chance I’d been given, I tried everything within my grasp.

Armed with the knowledge and experience gained through countless failures, I did everything I could to prevent her from changing.

Thus...

The 483rd regression began.

She had died 482 times.

I fought desperately, tried everything I could conceive of.

No matter the methods I employed, her death was inevitable.

No—that wasn’t quite accurate.

It was her stance that never changed.

She consistently pushed me away, harbored hatred, and blamed our ill-fated beginning.

Invariably, she denied our relationship.

In the end, she took her own life.

And so arrived my 483rd chance.

...Though perhaps chance was no longer the right word.

Perhaps curse would be more fitting.

Nevertheless, my 483rd life began.

Though each regression varied slightly in duration, the average was about a year—meaning a total of 483 years had passed.

While even mountains and rivers change with time, I remained unchanged.

Despite repeating a dreary eternity, I remained in the same place.

"What are you thinking about so deeply?"

Once again, on the final night of our betrothal ceremony.

She asked, holding a wine glass for our toast, looking at me.

I silently stared at the pleasantly swirling wine in her glass.

".................."

I rose from my seat.

I gathered my coat.

And, grasping the door handle, I looked at Lirian.

She merely stared at me, expressionless.

What that gaze meant no longer mattered to me.

Simply,

"I sincerely wish for your happiness."

I turned the handle and opened the door.

A final greeting.

Leaving only that behind, I departed from the mansion.

This was not surrender.

After 483 regressions, I had merely realized that we were not meant to begin together, that I should not remain by her side.

I only hoped that, somehow, she would not give up on her life.

As I stepped out into the cold, I glanced back,

and looked up at the window of the bedroom where we should have been.

Not even a trace of Lirian could be seen at the window.

And a bitter smirk escaped me.

What had I expected?

Had I dared hope for something, even after being drowned in disillusionment time and again?

Perhaps, just as she had once said, I truly was a fool.

I offered a bitter smile toward the empty window, then mounted my horse and began riding aimlessly into the night.

Anywhere but here.

A cool breeze swept through, scouring away the stale remnants of something long festering; the quietude of night wrapped gently around the hollow of my heart, offering a fragile kind of warmth.

And like that, I drifted—

Further and further away from her.

Perhaps.

Perhaps just a little...

I, too, had grown weary.

END σϝ CHAPTER