MPGF 01

Chapter 1: I Didn’t Know This Was a Regret Story

It was like avoiding a fox, only to run into a tiger.

Sometimes that saying came to mind when I looked at my husband.

The end of a contract marriage.

My husband had solidified his position as a Grand Duke, and I was now safe. We had served each other’s purposes—there was no longer a reason to stay together. So I asked him for a divorce.

“Let’s get divorced now.”
“Shall we have a nice fatty steak for lunch? I know it’s your favorite.”
“Didn’t you hear me say I want a divorce?”
“Actually, you’ve seemed a little bloated lately. Let’s go with a chicken breast salad instead.”

But my husband refused.

He didn’t even give me a reason. He just continued to treat me with endless kindness, as always. That’s when I knew—I couldn’t go on like this. If I stayed with him any longer, I’d fall for him. That warning bell pushed me to make up my mind: I’d force a divorce if I had to.

“All I need is his seal on the divorce agreement.”

It was the middle of the night. I was snooping around his study to steal his seal when I noticed a piece of paper sticking out from a book on the shelf.

It was an old-looking book in an otherwise perfectly tidy room.

Compelled by curiosity, I pulled it out.

“Markaba Academy… This is a yearbook.”

It was a graduation album from the academy I had attended. Dated two years before I graduated.

Was my husband a graduate of Markaba too?

But I had no time to linger on that question. As soon as I opened the album, a cascade of photographs spilled out like cherry blossoms in spring.

“Wait… These are pictures of me.”

Photos of me from my academy days.

A chill ran down my spine.

“Why are my photos in his study?”

Before I could finish the thought, I heard the door open.

I froze like a child caught stealing. My heart pounded in the silence, footsteps calmly approached, and I instinctively knew who it was.

I tried to swallow a hiccup while staring at the bookshelf.

“Wife.”

A cold breeze brushed my ear.

“What exactly are you looking at?”

I really was trapped in a tiger’s den.

To explain how I ended up in this mess, we need to go back—quite a bit.

I used to be a loner.

Ten years ago, I was a terminally ill patient waiting to die alone in a hospital room. My mother abandoned me as a child because she couldn’t afford my medical bills. I survived thanks to government support. But shortly after becoming an adult, my illness worsened and I died quietly.

It wasn’t even that sad. I was sure I was headed to heaven.

But when I opened my eyes, I was in another world. A strange room without the scent of antiseptic or the hum of humidifiers. My body felt light.

“Anette Le Anberia…?”

I had become an 11-year-old noble girl, living in a luxurious mansion reminiscent of the Middle Ages. Small hands, fair skin, and emerald eyes stared back at me in the mirror.

The map was unfamiliar, the empire’s name unknown. People were openly buying and selling magic.

“This must be a novel world.”

But I didn’t think I was the protagonist. Though I looked like one—beautiful beyond reason—my background didn’t match.

The Le Anberia family was peaceful and harmonious, unlike any tragic protagonist’s life.

“Protagonists are always miserable.”

Just like I had been in my past life. So I assumed I was just an extra—or maybe a supporting character. That was fine. This life, I had everything I never did: wealth, love, comfort. Maybe being a background character was better.

I was living a quiet, happy life—until age 15, when everything changed.

“Rian collapsed?”
“Go to the infirmary! We’ve already contacted our parents.”

My older brother Rian’s Belladonna Mark—a crest passed down in the Le Anberia bloodline—began to bloom. As it did, his fever worsened.

“There’s no reaction from the mark. We can only classify this as an unexplained fever.”

Everyone searched desperately for a cure, but Rian eventually died from the unrelenting pain.

The next year, the mark on my back began to stir. Death loomed again. My body weakened, and people whispered it was a curse.

“Curse or not, I’m not dying like that again.”

But my health continued to decline despite my determination. Just when I thought I’d have to face death again, I met Serdis.

The prince of the Requies Empire extended his hand to me during a ball.

He was like a shining gem, dazzling even among royalty. The moment I stood next to him, I could breathe again. I felt lighter.

“He’s my savior.”

From then on, I stuck close to Serdis. He was my only hope for survival.

I started visiting the palace often, searching for chances to meet him. One day, I saved his beloved pet bird—and finally caught his attention.

“That was close. Thanks for saving him.”
“If you’re really thankful, treat me to tea.”

I had only wanted to be close enough to breathe easier, but then he blushed and asked:

“…Wanna go on a date?”

Apparently, I’d captured more of his interest than expected.

“Of course.”

I wasn’t about to say no.

“Achoo!”

As I sneezed on the café terrace, I quickly covered my mouth.

“Are you cold?”

A warm coat was draped over my shoulders. I flinched at the golden insignia.

“I’m fine, really…”
“No, you’re not. You’re too lightly dressed.”

My savior, Serdis, looked genuinely concerned.

“People might get the wrong idea seeing us like this…”
“Let them. You’re more important to me than they are.”

His gentle care made me feel like the Empire’s wings were wrapped around me. But my coughing wouldn’t stop.

“Cough, cough!”

“That’s it. Let’s go inside. I’ll have them bring hot tea.”

As he helped me up, the pain lessened slightly.

He even carried my bag. His long fingers reached out, and I found myself smiling.

His golden hair was warmer than the sun, and his pomegranate-like eyes sparkled. Being with him felt unreal—like magic bloomed in his footsteps.

He was the fantasy of every noble lady—and even I, who had approached him to survive, couldn’t deny he was eye candy.

“Is there something on my face?”
Yeah. Handsomeness.

“No, it’s just…”

I shyly pulled a blanket over my mouth. Serdis smiled, resting his chin in his hand, eyes fixed on me.

“Is there something on my face?”
“I thought I was mistaken… but no.”
“What is it?”
“You’re beautiful.”

Choke.

I nearly threw up my morning toast.

Did he just call me pretty?!

He was painfully honest, like a true male lead. Good thing I wore that gorgeous dress today—it worked.

“Thank you for the compliment.”

I smiled brightly and popped a pill from my bag. It didn’t actually help, but it eased Serdis’s worry.

“Do you always take medicine?”
“Once a day when it’s cold. I got really sick once, so my parents are extra careful.”

I lowered my eyes pitifully. The more fragile I seemed, the more he’d worry.

“Since childhood, right? Was the medicine prescribed?”
“Usually by the family doctor, but this one’s made with new herbs my father found. It’s bitter though.”

“You’ve been through a lot, Anette.”
“It’s fine. As long as I take it, I feel okay. Maybe a macaron will help even more.”

I smiled bravely, and Serdis gave me a look full of sympathy.

Naive guy.

But then…

Why do I feel so dizzy?

I suddenly felt like I was floating. My heart pounded, my head throbbed.

If I say I’m sick, he’ll send me home.

So I pinched my thigh and endured it. Just then, the macarons arrived—special ones Serdis ordered as thanks.

They looked delicious, dotted with seasonal fruit.

“Enjoy, Anette.”

But I couldn’t even reach for them. A ringing sound drowned out everything, and a sharp headache followed.

Why is this memory coming back?

It was like a nightmare. Someone abandoning me, hurting me. My mom? That pain, long buried, surfaced again.

“Anette, are you okay?”

Serdis caught me as I stumbled.

His warmth should’ve been comforting, but my blood felt like it was running backward.

Something’s wrong.

“Your Highness…”
“Yes? What is it, Anette?”

Still full of concern, he looked at me.

“I think I need to… go ho—”

And then… my vision distorted.

The Serdis in front of me began to change.

“Your Highness…?”

His warm eyes were gone. In their place were cold, red ones like a northern wind. I’d never seen him look like that.

“Anette Le Anberia is hereby banished to the frontier.”
Wait, what…?

“The Le Anberia family is stripped of all titles for their crimes.”

This was the man from my nightmares.

The one who tormented me over and over. And then—memories came flooding in.

Memories I wished had stayed buried.

It wasn’t a nightmare.

No—this cruel reality was the nightmare.

I’d been living in this world for ten years.

And now, I remembered what story this was from.

“Wishing for Your Desperate Regret.”

It was a classic regret novel: the female lead, after years of loving the male lead, finally gave up, and only then did he realize her worth.

The problem?

The male lead, Serdis, didn’t regret quietly. He became an 8-ton wheel of chaos.

And the first person crushed under that wheel?

Anette Le Anberia—the sickly first love of Serdis.

The very body I had reincarnated into.

He had loved her since their academy days. Her long silver hair and emerald eyes enchanted him. Her fragile health added a melancholic charm that sparked his protective instincts.

Serdis had a special ability to soothe pain, making Anette feel better. They had a short-lived love—until they parted.

But he never forgot her.

And when the actual female lead came along, Serdis…

“Your heels aren’t pink like Anette’s.”
“Anette had dimples when she smiled… You don’t.”

He gaslit the poor heroine, using my name as a weapon.

The sweet heroine, Violet, developed a trauma so severe that she fainted upon seeing Anette at a party.

Later, Serdis, mistakenly thinking Anette had harmed Violet, sent her to marry an old, greedy lord in the frontier.

Anette, already weak, died in lonely neglect.

If all that was true…

I was totally screwed.