1: On Waking Up as a Baby

Under the glittering chandelier, golden hair shimmered like flowing honey.

Then, from the lips of a man as beautiful as a sculpture, a voice began to flow.

I stiffened as I stared blankly at the scene before me.

I knew what he was about to say next.

“To everyone who has joined us here today…”

I took a deep breath.

I couldn’t even count how many times I had relived this moment.

“To everyone who has joined us here today, I offer my sincerest thanks.”

As the man delivered the familiar line, my heart dropped with a heavy thud.

His gentle smile and soft gaze swept across the room, but they never once turned to me.

Even a meaningless glance—something that could’ve passed by me in an instant—he never gave me that.

Did he really not know?

Didn’t he feel even a little pity for the girl who could only stiffen up and fumble like a fool in front of him?

Was I really nothing more than a background extra in his story?

“Today, I’d like to make a confession.”

I had always known a moment like this would come.

Still, I clung foolishly to my one-sided love.

Even knowing the fate that awaited him, I couldn’t let go of my pathetic feelings.

But now, finally, it was time to let go of that final thread I’d barely managed to hold on to.

“I propose to the young lady of House Hillington.”

Thud.

It felt like a boulder had slammed into my chest.

Everyone in the ballroom turned their heads, their gazes splitting in two directions.

One toward me—frozen like a pillar.

And the other toward the girl who was smiling sweetly, glowing with innocent charm.

Anyone could tell who the proposal was meant for.

It wasn’t the one barely able to breathe, stiff with tension.

It was the girl with peach-pink blush blooming on her cheeks, who smiled radiantly.

All eyes soon turned to her—my adorable little sister.

That was it.

That was the limit of what I could endure.

‘It’s time to stop.’

I grabbed the hem of my lavish skirt and turned around.

There was a brief murmur behind me, but I shut my eyes tightly.

‘Don’t look back.’

Blending into the crowd, I slipped out of the ballroom.

I ran away—from the climax of the romance-fantasy novel “The Young Lady Is Sweet,” where the male lead proposes to the heroine.

Sure, it was the highlight of the original story, but for a pitiful extra like me, I was allowed to run away.

Yes, the man I loved was in love with my sister.

My sister was the beloved heroine of this world.

And he was the fated male lead, destined to bring her the glass slipper.

There was no place for me in that glorious scene.

‘Now I can finally let go. Leave it all behind… and disappear.’

It was me who held on to dreams far too grand.

So now, it was time for the extra to make her exit.

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I’d been pretty lucky, all things considered.

The kind townspeople welcomed even a newbie florist like me, and just a month after opening, my flower shop was thriving.

Thriving so much that even the nobles of the Mielle Empire—who normally wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about a commoner’s life—had heard of it.

Otherwise, that man would’ve never found me.

“…Have you been well?”

I was the one who broke the silence.

I had fled because I didn’t have the courage to face him, but now that we were face-to-face, I had no choice.

He was my sister’s husband now, which made him family to me, too.

But there was no way I could call this man “brother-in-law” to his face.

And yet—

“Do I look like I’ve been well?”

Huh?

‘What was that?’

Startled by the sheer force of his presence as he stormed toward me, I accidentally dropped the wooden tray I was holding.

It hit the floor with a loud clatter and spun before settling.

Blinking at the tray, I slowly looked up—to find him towering over me, glaring with blazing eyes.

He was a full head taller than me, leaning in close.

‘Uh… excuse me?’

It had only been about a month since I left the capital, but he seemed like a completely different person.

Was I imagining it?

“Did you… did you hate me that much?”

Whose trembling, miserable voice was that just now?

Wait—had I been day drinking?

Was this a dream?

A hallucination?

“…Sorry, what?”

“You crushed my proposal and ran away, only to end up here?”

I almost reached out to pinch his smooth, fair cheek.

Why did this hallucination have to sound so real?

My heart stuttered, even though I’d thought I was over him.

I let out a faint laugh—apparently, that wounded his pride.

“How can you laugh?”

His vivid purple eyes quivered.

And then… tears?

‘Wait. Tears?’

No matter how I looked, his bloodshot eyes were definitely filling with tears.

Was he… crying?

Why?

Was he that devastated over his wife’s sister disappearing?

And what was that about me “crushing” his proposal?

My sister ran away?

“Wait. A proposal? What are you even talking about—”

“Running away again won’t help. Wherever you go, I’ll follow—”

His blazing eyes looked nothing like the man I once knew.

At some point, my back hit the cold wall behind me, blocking my retreat.

He stepped closer, until I could feel his breath.

“You’ll only look at me now.”

…Excuse me?

“I’ll make sure you can’t breathe without me, just like I can’t breathe without you.”

I didn’t know what to say.

But I knew one thing for sure.

He’d lost his mind.

He’d snapped.

“Are you seriously saying this… to me?”

I tried to cling to reason.

Just because a lunatic was talking nonsense didn’t mean I should lose my sanity, too.

But there was no reasoning with a madman.

“That day… you never gave me an answer.”

At this point, I was starting to believe it wasn’t a dream.

But it couldn’t be that the man who once coldly ignored and despised me was now proposing with such desperation.

No, he must be drunk and mistaking me for my sister.

A bitter smile crept onto my lips.

Just when I thought I’d finally escaped, here I was, tangled in this mess again.

‘What a cursed fate.’

It had always been like this.

Whenever I opened my eyes… he was there.

I let out a long sigh and tried to imagine what had happened.

Maybe—who knows—my sister divorced him or something.

Classic regretful male lead cliché.

The heroine runs away after a misunderstanding, and the male lead chases her with red eyes, losing his mind… mistaking the sister for her.

Otherwise, the man who once looked at me with such disdain wouldn’t be—

“Let’s get married.”

—saying that.

My eyes shut tight as I swallowed the rage bubbling up inside me.

Yes. A cursed fate.

‘Why did I have to be born the heroine’s older sister?’

That’s where it all began.

More than 20 years ago, when I was born into this damned novel world—as just a supporting character.

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A sharp, surreal feeling snapped my eyes open.

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But what I noticed first wasn’t the shouting from the next room or the beeping of medical machines…

It was the intense hunger that rattled my empty stomach, followed by a loud gurgle.

‘Hungry!’

Grrrrrrrrgle.

I really didn’t want to believe that thunderous sound came from me.

My eyes flew wide as I blinked furiously.

‘Wait… I died, didn’t I?’

Nothing made sense.

I could still remember that chilling moment when everything stopped—when my breath left me.

No way.

Had I crossed the River Styx and somehow come back?

I tried to move my arms and legs, but they felt stiff, like they were tied down.

‘Ugh!’

Just then—

“Ugh, shut that thing up! Feed it or something!”

My thoughts halted instantly.

That voice—gruff, cheap, and crude—pierced my ears.

‘Thing?’

What… what were they talking about?

My heart pounded with anxiety.

I didn’t understand what was happening.

I opened my eyes wide, lips puckering instinctively as I began to suck on something.

Wait… suck?

“This is ridiculous. Why me? I don’t know what to do! You’re the one who came up with this plan!”

A different voice this time—shrill and grating. I frowned.

‘Plan? Wait—kidnapping? Why? What could they want from me…?’

I sucked harder on whatever was in my mouth, and that’s when I realized.

Something was definitely wrong with me.

Panicking, I reached for my mouth. My hand brushed against something soft.

What… what is this?

And why does my head feel so heavy to lift?

“If we get caught, we’re both dead. You hear me? Dead. And not just us—he’ll hunt down every last one of our kin!”

“Shut up! You’re the one who wanted to kidnap a baby from the temple to make money! You said to grab this one! And of all people, you picked a Hillington baby?! Are you insane?!”

“Hey! Watch your mouth! You’re an accomplice too!”

“You took the baby! I just drove the carriage!”

I shifted my eyes and focused on their words.

Kidnapping. Carriage. Accomplice.

And several other strange things.

Like how they seemed to be foreigners.

Like how they were shouting in a language I’d never heard before…

…and yet, I understood every word perfectly.

But the most shocking part of all—

‘Oh my god. What is this sausage?!’

1. 1. 1. 1. I tried to touch my forehead and saw it.

My hand.

A chubby little hand with pudgy fingers.

Fingers so plump, they looked like five sausages.

I wiggled them.

They moved.

‘This is my hand? What’s wrong with it? Is it… swollen?’

Just then, a loud crash shattered the air like an explosion.

And the men who’d been yelling beside me let out panicked screams.

‘What now?!’