So I Was the Persecuted Grand Duchess Destined to Die? Chapter 106

Chapter 106

Felix knew immediately.

Having lived under Isabella’s piercing gaze his entire life, he could tell—

She was lying.

His heart dropped.

Then… does that mean I was never gold-eyed to begin with?

The direct bloodline of the Rembrandt imperial family was known for one defining trait:

Eyes like molten gold.

The Crown Prince, Callian Rembrandt, dazzled the court with his brilliant golden irises.

Felix had not shone as brightly as his brother—

—but his own golden eyes had always been proof.

Proof that he belonged.

And now—

“No… no! This has to be someone’s scheme! The Crown Prince’s faction—House Celeste—!”

But the thought didn’t last.

“Your Highness?”

A delicate face flashed in his memory—

The Duchess of Celeste reaching out a hand when he had stumbled.

Why is this happening to me…?

Those golden eyes had been the only tether anchoring him to the imperial throne.

And now they were gone.

He turned back to the mirror.

Still green.

Common green eyes.

Green is common in the Empire… This must mean nothing…

But—

Not just green.

A blue-tinged teal.

There was only one person he knew with that color.

The High Priest.

His breath hitched.

No… That rumor was just slander spread by the Crown Prince’s faction… wasn’t it?

His hands trembled.

He wanted to ask her.

Why do my eyes match his?

Why was the High Priest always closer to you than Father was?

Mother… who am I?

But instead, he asked something else.

“…Mother. What should I do?”

As always, Isabella offered no direct answers.

“Remain in seclusion until I permit otherwise. Admit no one but me.”

“But—”

“Felix. Listen.”

She gripped his shoulders tightly and outlined her plan in brief, chilling terms.

His eyes widened.

Then she turned away without hesitation.

Left alone, Felix bit his lip until it hurt.

“Damn it… damn it!”

The marble floor beneath him gleamed spotless—

As if a life had not just been extinguished there moments ago.

That Same Night

The servants slept.

The manor was silent.

I stood in my room wearing a black hooded cloak.

In front of me stood Ternox, dressed the same.

“Alright. Hold my hand.”

“Ugh.”

“Don’t make that face. I’m not thrilled either.”

He grabbed my hand firmly.

Apparently, spatial transfer magic was complicated.

Physical contact made it easier.

Sweat gathered in my palm.

Nothing bad will happen… right?

I had insisted on coming.

But there was no guarantee we would gain anything.

Gain? We would be lucky if we didn’t lose something.

“Haah…”

A nervous sigh escaped me.

“Nervous?”

“…Honestly? Yes.”

“Well, holding the hand of a handsome dragon would make anyone’s heart flutter~ But I don’t play with married women.”

“Ew. Trash joke. Zero stars.”

I smacked him with my free hand.

He snorted.

And somehow—

I smiled.

“There we go. Finally smiling.”

“Oh.”

So he had been worried.

“…Hey. Whatever happens there, I’ll take responsibility.”

“Why you? I’m the one who insisted.”

“That’s what adults do.”

For once—

He really sounded like one.

He lowered his head and muttered something.

A magic circle flared beneath our feet.

Wind roared.

I shut my eyes—

—and when I opened them—

“…Wow.”

The scenery had changed entirely.

“Is this the place from your dream?”

“Yes… The fence. The gravestones. This is it.”

We stood within the Celeste family mausoleum.

Every step felt surreal.

Walking where I had once only observed as a dreamer.

I traced the carved names with my eyes.

Then reached the farthest grave.

“This is…”

The spot.

But my own grave wasn’t there.

Of course not.

Yet the moment I stepped forward—

“—!”

My vision blurred.

Pain exploded in my chest.

“Ha—hah—”

My heart began pounding violently.

“Renée!”

Ternox grabbed my shoulders.

But I couldn’t answer.

The pain deepened.

And then—

I saw it.

From my chest—

A hydrangea-colored light began to pulse.

Blue. Violet. Teal.

The same color as someone’s eyes.

The light spread outward—

Flooding everything.

And—

I lost consciousness.

Somewhere Else

Paper rustled.

I opened my eyes.

An empty void.

Before me floated a single book.

Its pages flipped on their own.

“What is this…?”

I picked it up.

The pages stopped.

And there—

Familiar words.

The modest wedding ended quickly.
Xavier looked down coldly at the small woman before him.
“This will likely be the first and last time we face each other.”
“….”
“Live quietly. As if you’re not there.”

Renée Blanche.
No—Renée Celeste.

Of all people, the first man she ever fell in love with had become her husband.

A blessing for some.

A curse for her.

My breath caught.

This was—

The original novel.

The Northern Duke’s Wife Doesn’t Know Spring.

Pages flipped.

Renée coughing blood alone.

Hiding her illness.

Her frail final moments.

Xavier’s crushing regret.

All written.

All recorded.

“No… No.”

The book slipped from my hands.

The glowing letters burst outward in a whirlwind.

But I remained still.

Because I understood.

This wasn’t fiction.

It wasn’t a novel.

“…I was Renée.”

These weren’t pages.

They were—

My memories.