So I Was the Persecuted Grand Duchess Destined to Die? Chapter 40

Xavier’s ragged breathing, broken by sobs, kept slipping out of rhythm.

Every uneven breath made Renée’s heart drop.

“Renée… I was wrong. I was the one at fault. So don’t die. Please. Don’t leave me behind.”

Don’t say it like it’s the end.

He cried without stopping.

She cried too.

They were thinking the same thing:

If only we’d realized… just a little sooner.

“I still… you…”

Maybe it was her last inhale.

Sensing it, Xavier clutched Renée’s shoulders and whispered,

“Renée, I never told you to leave my side. Even if the end is death… I’ll chase you to the very end.”

His low voice was desperate. There wasn’t a grain of reason left in it.

“…I love you…”

And then, inevitably, her last exhale escaped.

Thud.

Her hand fell limp.

Even her faint breathing stopped.

At the same time, darkness poured over me too—

as if I were dying along with that skeletal Renée in Xavier’s arms.

Is this what death is?

If so, death was vast and far away.

My consciousness drifted deeper into endless black—

but Xavier’s wailing still stabbed into my ears, tearing my heart apart.

“Renée! Aaaah! No—no—!”

“Gasp!”

It felt like my mind was yanked up from deep underwater.

I jolted upright.

Was that a dream?

No. Not a dream.

This was—

“Huh?”

I opened my eyes wide—

and suddenly my view was filled with…

“Ah—what?! A chest?!”

A surprise, skin-colored situation.

Before I could fully panic, a wounded hand snapped the collar shut.

I sat there stunned, mouth half-open—

and a familiar low voice hit me.

“Waking up and the first thing you say is ‘chest’?”

“!”

So that’s why the chest felt weirdly familiar—

now that my vision focused, Xavier was staring down at me, face flushed red,

one arm shielding his chest, looking scandalized—

like I was some kind of creep.

If anything, I was the one who should’ve been screaming.

Because he was hovering over me in the dead of night wearing only a nightgown—

and I was lying in bed.

Wait. Bed?

Reality crashed in, bit by bit.

When did I fall asleep?

And what was that “dream,” exactly…?

“Ugh!”

The moment I tried to think back—

my head split with pain.

“Are you alright?”

As I hunched over, clutching my head, Xavier—of all people—sounded worried.

“Sleep more. It’s still dawn.”

He gestured toward the window.

Through the slightly opened curtain, the moonlit night was clearly visible.

Blinking in confusion, I asked,

“Dawn…? When did I fall asleep? I definitely went boating with Katharina and then…”

Huh?

…What happened after that?

Maybe my face showed how lost I was, because Xavier’s expression tightened.

“Do you remember nothing?”

“…Regrettably, no.”

Haah.

Xavier exhaled, and what he said next was even more shocking.

“Do you know you’ve just woken up after three days?”

“What? Th-three days?!”

“Yes. You went boating—so carefree—and fell into the river. And only now you’re awake.”

His voice carried an unmistakable edge of anger.

Then memory began to flicker back.

Right… that’s true.

We met the other young ladies, got close, then Katharina and I rode a small boat…

and when we tried to retrieve the hat that flew away…

Then—

“Katharina Hugo pushed you.”

His heavy voice struck like an ambush.

“Pardon?”

“She threw you in on purpose. There were multiple witnesses.”

I could only blink, trying to sort through the sludge of feelings and tangled memories—

unable to tell what was dream and what was real.

But even setting all that aside, something didn’t fit.

If my memory’s right… that can’t be true.

Xavier looked down at me with a freezing expression.

What followed was absurd.

“Katharina Hugo tried to murder the Grand Duchess. Her crime is severe. I locked her in the underground prison.”

“W-what?!”

Murder? Prison?

This isn’t supposed to get that big!

I shot back in panic,

“An underground prison?! She’s a noble young lady!”

“A noble young lady still pays the price if she commits a crime. Isn’t that obvious?”

“First of all—she didn’t throw me in! That’s ridiculous.”

It truly felt insane.

I was sure.

Katharina wasn’t capable of that.

But how could I explain this bizarre certainty to Xavier…?

As if it were obvious, Xavier’s sneer cut in,

“Did the shock erase your memory? Or did your intelligence drop? Renée Blanche—there’s a limit to being naïve. You almost died because of that woman!”

“Ugh!”

His shout triggered another stabbing surge of pain.

“Haah…”

Xavier exhaled hard and pressed my shoulder down.

Yet it didn’t hurt—

it was clumsy, but careful.

He looked almost as confused as I felt.

I sank back into bed, following his force.

“Rest. Don’t think. I’ll step out.”

He ran a hand through his hair and left.

But of course, I couldn’t sleep.

The needle-like headache, the memories crossing and crashing—

when I put everything together, only one conclusion came out:

I remembered the novel.

I’d thought I had no clues at all, but… maybe Xavier was right.

The shock did something to my head.

And the very first thought I had was—

I’m screwed.

The title of the novel was The Grand Duchess of the North Doesn’t Know Spring.

Or maybe not.

Honestly, my memory is trash right now.

But one thing I knew for sure:

I’d finished it and couldn’t stop trash-talking the ending.

The writing wasn’t bad—

I’d enjoyed it up until right before the final chapter.

But the ending?

Disaster.

To summarize the story:

The heroine, Renée Celeste.

Born as the Blanche family’s illegitimate child, Renée lives under constant oppression,

then gets shoved into a political marriage.

And falling truly in love with her husband, Xavier, becomes the start of a second tragedy.

Xavier hates her, and he wounds her in every way possible.

Every time, I’d been furious, choking on frustration:

“Ugh, so suffocating! Renée, you idiot! How long are you going to stay that clueless?!
Still… if Xavier builds this much karma, he’ll suffer later, right? Hahaha!
You bastard—become her footstool already!”

Even so, I believed the author had a reason for being that cruel.

Because… come on.

This was a romance fantasy!

Even if it’s dark and painful, as a reader you expect the heroine to be happy in the end.

So I thought it was all build-up—

even if it was weirdly long and mean.

I didn’t expect the ending to be that broken.

The Grand Duchess of the North Doesn’t Know Spring.

North. Duchess. Spring.

Even the title felt ominous.

“…The heroine is terminally ill… and she just dies because she’s terminally ill?
What kind of ending is this? Author—are you insane?!”

Why wouldn’t she know spring?

If she doesn’t, then make her learn it!

That should’ve been the ending!

But North. Duchess. Spring ended in the opposite of a closed happy ending.

The heroine’s illness worsened. She died without any chance—

and only after she died did the male lead realize his feelings and drown in regret.

And then… that was it.

That’s right.

It ends. Complete. The end.

No epilogue. No side stories. A perfectly sealed bad ending.

“…I was that Renée?”

Aaahhh—are you kidding me?!