My funeral began.

There was a time when I thought it would be nice to have a sunny day at my funeral.

As I went through my father's funeral in the winter rain, I thought that it would be nice if it wasn't such a dreary and cold day.

Fortunately, that day was clear today.

People in black clothes and black veils laid flowers down one by one in front of the tombstone.

Finally, it was my turn.

I put the white flower I was holding in front of the tombstone and bowed my head.

I never thought the day would come when I would put flowers on my own tombstone.

I heard a whisper.

“How can she not even shed a tear when her twin sister has died?”

“The rumor of her being an idiot must have been true.”

“I heard that she has always had an inferiority complex? Who knows what she is like on the inside?”

“It’s creepy.”

“Like a heartless human being.”

Saying cruel things despite knowing that I’ll hear it obviously means that they don't care whether I feel bad or not.

Sick Irene. Idiot Irene. Mergen’s burden.

Some people treated Irene as terminally ill and sympathized with her.

At least, that was what the so-called good people did.

Most of the people in Mergen thought that Irene was a burden, hanging on to the shoulders of the family.

Well, didn’t I treat her the same?

An annoying, weak girl.

I became Irene from Deborah, the heir of the family, overnight.

“Is Deborah really dead…? It was right after the banquet, right?”

“I can’t believe it. Then who will become the heir of Mergen?”

The biggest issue following my death was the concern about the position of heir which has become vacant.

It was not a mourning for the life that has ended in a short and futile way.

I died last night after an argument with Irene.

As per the doctor’s report, the cause of death was an acute cardiac arrest caused by poison.

My heart stopped, but I’m still alive like this.

Not in my body but in Irene’s body.

Then what about Irene?

Looking at my current situation, it would be most plausible when she died inside of my body.

On that day, it was clear that we had switched bodies.

This ability is not common by any means.

It must be a bizarre phenomenon that can be only dreamed of with Mergen’s special powers.

But I had no intention of doing such a thing. I wonder if Irene’s alright.

Why did she switch bodies with me?

If you had an ability to change souls, why did you live being treated coldly?

The questions continued endlessly.

‘Stupid until the end…’

My bitten lower lip hurt.

For whatever reason, Irene made such a stupid choice.

The light pink hair that flowed down on the side of my cheek is annoying.

When I put the flower down and stood up, people shut their mouths as if they were talking about me.

Pretentious fools .

And then, I heard them muttering.

When I turned my eyes to the source of the sound, I saw a man with silver hair running towards me.

A man in armor, unsuitable for a funeral.

“Abel!”

My stepmother, Chloe, looked at him and smiled brightly.

People started to murmur.

Abel Mergen.

My younger brother who constantly threatened my position as the heir.

‘I heard that he’s coming back from the battlefield.’

Abel, who returned home from the battlefield, received people’s trusted stares and Chloe looked at him emotionally.

Looking at them overlapping, I suddenly had such thoughts.

Was it a coincidence that Abel returned at the right time for my funeral?

There must be a connection between his return and my death.

I coolly glanced at him under the black veil.

Abel ran straight to the place where my tombstone was placed.

People generally gave a glance, even if there is a person on his way, but he simply passed by me as if I was invisible and went straight to the tombstone.

‘It’s unreasonable.’

At least it hasn’t been like this for me.

I turned my head to look at him kneeling in front of my tombstone.

The shiny hair that fell like a waterfall, a large body in ruins and hands gripping the soil.

At first glance, he looked extremely sad.

His trembling shoulders made me wonder if he was really crying or not.

‘It can’t be.’

Although we had a good relationship when we were younger as Chloe’s ambitious children, we were incompatible just like water and oil.

I closed my eyes and moved on.

When I turned around, I saw people lined up in front of me.

My grandfather, the head of the family, the vassals swarming around him like bees, my stepmother and her friends besides her.

I saw the faces of nobles who were involved in business, and next to them…

‘Henry.’

I saw my fiancé. No, to be precise, Deborah’s fiancé.

‘Now the engagement will be broken’.

We aren’t in love with each other.

To put it bluntly, it was a political marriage, and none of us had any desire for affection from each other.

‘In that respect, he was a perfect fiancé.’

Even at this moment, I was drawing a rough picture of the damage that would result from a relationship with him that would be broken by my death.

But soon, a laugh came out.

What should I do if I have to worry about that now?

As I was about to turn my head away from him, our eyes met.

I slightly bowed my head, greeted him and avoided his gaze.

And at the end of the gaze that moved as if it wanted to escape, I saw an unwelcome guest.

‘Rahan…’

Archduke Rahan Bahel.

He is a man who had a land adjacent to Mergen and competed in every case.

Did the public call such a person a nemesis?

Did he come to my funeral to be indulged in joy?

Well, no matter how bad the relationship was, you will feel sympathy in the face of death.

To be honest, I didn’t like him because he was completely different from me.

If they are open-minded without any sense of dignity, then there's no transparent personality.

And I’m not immune to those people.

‘All the people who would come are all present.’

Pausing for a moment, I looked through at every single person who had come to my funeral.

And a thought came into my mind.

‘Who killed me?’

I guess I didn’t live that well.

Seeing that everyone I see has at least one reason to kill me.

***

gigg ~

A squeaking noise arose from the mirror I touched.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror for over 30 minutes, mesmerizing it.

Pale-looking skin.

Light pink hair strewn like a spider’s web over the nightgown.

The unpigmented blue eyes seemed to have moved a drop of water from the stream.

Every time I blinked, my long eyelashes staggered and created a shadow.

Suddenly, the image of Irene I met the night I died came to mind.

“I made a recovery potion for you, sister…”

“Please stop doing such useless things.”

I was worried at the beginning.

Probably.

It was because I didn’t like the fact that she used her strength to make a healing potion with a sick body.

“If you thought of me, you should have attended the banquet instead of making this healing potion! It’s the only way to reassure people!”

But I didn’t have to be that harsh.

“Again, I was wrong…”

Why did I say that to the dead child? I don’t know why either but it is definitely not something good to say.

“I am jealous of you.”

At the end of the argument, I finally lost my reason for her words that burst out like a confession.

“You know what I hate the most? That you always show how low a person can go”

I told Irene that it makes me feel dirty as if I was the perpetrator.

“Please do it in moderation.”

Pamper yourself in moderation.

You’re not the only one having a hard time, we’re just living in different hells.

So how did the conversation end?

“I don’t have time to listen to you. If you’re going to whine, find someone else.”

Of course the ending couldn’t have been better.

But if I had known that would be our last conversation, at least I wouldn’t have ended it that way.

“Is this real? Could it be that I’ve gone crazy?”

But in the mirror, I was facing myself with a sharp expression that Irene would never make if this was reality.

When the emotions disappeared from Irene’s face, which always had a colorful expression on her face, I finally realized that she and I were quite alike.

“Irene…”

Like someone who had never held a pen before, smooth, callus-free fingers lingered in front of the mirror.

As I touched my cheek on the mirror, the nightgown that had been stretched to my wrist slid down. Then the bony wrists were exposed.

The blue veins were clearly visible on the white arm, which seems like it can snap with a flick.

A needle mark was visible in a corner of the wrist.

It wasn’t even one or two.

‘Did Irene receive this kind of treatment?’

I gazed at the hideous mark for a long time before taking my eyes off it.

Well, she was so sick.

“Hah.”

My mind was complicated.

Deborah is dead.

The most suspicious person is, of course Irene, who gave her the potion last night.

That is me.

“What a fucking situation.”

They say that death is the end, and the dead do not speak, or that death is also called rest.

This doesn’t apply to me though.

The housework I were in charge of, the business I was working on,

And other matters I was responsible for…

Even though Deborah is dead, they become a bigger burden and meshed like cogs in my head.

But that wasn’t what mattered now.

“…Let’s survive in this body first.”