Chapter 1

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Ahh, I have lived a life full of regrets, haven’t I?

I hurt so many people and caused the death of people who have nothing to do with my mistakes.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I‘m sorry.

Even after Rachel apologised many times, the reality didn’t change. What remained was the feeling of despair.

The scene before her eyes was bright red. She could do nothing but tremble and watch the unmoving body of the coachman and maid.

She shook her neck in desperation, struggling to move her scared stiff body.

The large men in front of her laughed indecently, ridiculing her futile efforts.

Then one of them swung down the bloody sword to Rachel.

Crack

There, Rachel lost her consciousness, ending her short eighteen years of life…

Or that’s how it was supposed to be.


When Rachel opened her eyes, she was laying down on her bed in the Marquees’ residence.

The white sheets and the soft mattress were familiar. From the curtain of the large window, morning light lit the room—her bedroom.

Why? Did someone save me? No, I should’ve died at that time.

On the way to the monastery, a group of bandits appeared before her carriage passed through the forest and attacked her.

Sarah, her maid, didn’t abandon her until the end. Rachel remembered her words before they head to the monastery. With teary eyes, she said, “My Lady, how could you live without me?”

There’s also the coachman, a man on the prime of his life who always had a warm smile.

She got them involved in this mess. She was sure that she died.

Even now, the memory of the bloody smell and the sensation of the sword stabbing her chest was still fresh in her mind.

The bandit aimed at her heart. At that point, no one would be able to save her life anymore.

Then was it a dream?

No, impossible.

Then, why was she alive?

Before Rachel could think about it, she heard a light knock on the door.

Out of reflex, she answered, “Yes.” And the door opened.

No way. Rachel unconsciously closed her mouth with her hands, trying to stop herself from screaming.

But her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Her complexion must be pale.

After all, the person standing in the doorway was Sarah, the maid who should’ve died with Rachel.


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