~Chapter 3~
“In this kind of era… with this destiny chart, I could be assassinated, betrayed… or just die a meaningless dog’s death.”
She pressed her throbbing temples.
Was being hit by a truck and dying not enough—was heaven now telling her to suffer again inside someone else’s body?
…No. That’s not it. I can change it. I can predict what will happen to this woman using her destiny chart.
Fate written at birth cannot be changed, but one’s fortune can be corrected by oneself. That was exactly why wealthy people paid enormous sums to famous shamans, begging them to “fix their fate.”
Even this cursed destiny… even the spirit child might not be able to avoid it.
Elisia closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again. Beneath her eyelids, her sharp violet eyes shimmered.
“Let’s live first. Then I’ll find my path of fate.”
She didn’t know how she had ended up possessing this body after dying in a truck accident, but it was likely the work of the spirit child’s power.
As a shaman, she knew better than anyone how heavy the burden of each being’s life was—and how precious it was. So even if this woman was destined to die miserably, she couldn’t simply give up without trying anything.
“Let’s make a plan. Calmly.”
Elisia drew thick lines across the remaining space on the paper and began writing down her immediate plans for the future.
1. Find the spirit child.
A vessel that had once received divine possession and its spirit could not be separated for long. Even if they were apart, the spirit would eventually find its vessel through its energy.
If she waited here quietly, the spirit child would come to her.
2. If she was going to live here anyway, she would make Elisia Seymour’s life—like U Sodan’s—overflow with wealth.
She never wanted to return to a life of poverty again. Having been abandoned by her mother and raised by her grandmother before becoming a shaman, she knew well how poverty stripped even love of its value.
While staying in this mansion, she would first lay the groundwork to rebuild wealth, and once everything was prepared, she would divorce the duke. There was no point in living entangled with a man who carried his mother’s spirit and seemed like he had an entire complicated family history just by looking at him.
She also had little experience with men, since she had only ever been interested in luxury goods.
“Men betray me… but luxury doesn’t.”
Elisia nodded, stroking her chin.
Come to think of it… did this world even have something like luxury brands?
“I need to make money again… but I’ll figure that out later. Maybe I should open a fortune-telling shop here too.”
While she was organizing her survival plans, Betty and another unfamiliar maid opened the door without even knocking.
“Madam. If you’ve woken up, you should inform us.”
“Ah, sorry—no, I mean… sorry.”
Elisia awkwardly scratched her neck. The older woman before her seemed much older, and she couldn’t bring herself to correct her. Deep inside her bones, her Confucian upbringing still remained.
The maid beside her… was she the head maid?
“Madam. Come this way.”
It was Betty—the red-haired girl she had seen yesterday.
“Now that I look again, she’s got such a mischievous-looking face.”
Elisia muttered without thinking, then quickly shut her mouth.
“What did you say?”
“No, I didn’t mean it badly. I just mean… if you keep living like that, you’ll lose good fortune.”
Betty clearly had no idea what “good fortune” meant. Thinking she was being insulted, she puffed up her already plump cheeks in anger.
“Please wash your face first.”
The head maid brought forward a basin of water.
“Ah—cold?”
Elisia flinched.
The water they had brought was ice-cold, as if it had come straight from a winter stream. It was obvious—this was intentional.
They hated her.
The head maid looked down at her with a cold expression, while the red-haired maid struggled to hide her sneer.
If it were her usual self… Elisia, or rather U Sodan, would have reacted very differently. Back in high school, she had even dropped out after violently retaliating against those who bullied her for being a shaman—locking them in bathrooms, pretending to perform exorcisms, even throwing chicken blood at them…
But—
“This isn’t school.”
She decided it wasn’t worth causing trouble here. She needed to endure—for now.
“Ugh… so cold.”
After finishing her wash with the freezing water, Betty handed her a towel.
Elisia looked at her dripping face, then at the red-haired maid.
The fact that even the head maid tolerated this meant the entire household likely treated her the same way. Even her husband—the duke—had grabbed her by the collar.
After thinking for a moment, Elisia spoke.
“Betty. You’re an only child, right?”
Betty’s eyes widened in shock.
“How did you know?”
Her plump cheeks lifted higher in surprise.
“Girls like you, with that kind of mischievous face, are usually only children. Want to know why? Because since you were in the womb, you tried to absorb all attention and fortune for yourself, and it gathered in your cheeks like that.”
“W-what…?”
“You’re young, so listen carefully. Try to keep your heart kinder. That cheek fat will sag when you get older. There’s no skincare clinic here, is there?”
The rapid-fire scolding left Betty and the head maid speechless.
Betty, finally realizing her appearance had been insulted, tried to flare up—but froze when Elisia suddenly threw off her nightgown.
“Honestly, this is good. Who even dressed me in something this ugly?”
Now stripped down to her undergarments, Elisia didn’t care at all. She grabbed the nightgown, used it like a towel, and vigorously wiped her face.
“Good heavens, Madam!”
The head maid screamed in shock.
In her thirty years of service, she had never seen such behavior from a duchess. Even a few months ago, she had not been like this—after her amnesia, she was like a completely different person.
Elisia wiped her face dry, then tossed the soaked nightgown toward Betty.
“I don’t wear ugly things. You take it. It suits your warm tone.”
Betty stood there blankly, unsure whether to feel honored or insulted.
“I’ll need a new nightgown. Something without dull colors. And none of those frilly, ribbon-heavy things either. I need clothes that match my personal color.”
“Per… sonal… what?”
Ignoring the question, Elisia walked to the wardrobe and flung it open.
“This, this… I knew it.”
Inside were clothes completely mismatched with her elegant image—warm-toned dresses, outdated designs, some so tacky they were almost painful to look at.
“Good heavens… what is all this? Are these even clothes?”
One by one, she began pulling them out and throwing them behind her.
“Ma-madam! Please stop! Do you know how expensive these are?!”
“Expensive? You bought these? Not picked from a trash heap?”
The head maid’s eye twitched as the growing mountain of discarded dresses piled up like a graveyard. She even began to wonder if this young duchess was deliberately tormenting them in some new, bizarre way.
After a few minutes, Elisia finished emptying the entire wardrobe. She clapped her hands in satisfaction.
“Much better. We can fill it again later.”
Then she tilted her head.
“Oh, but I’ll need at least one outfit for now. Something not ugly, not tacky, and not dull.”
“Denied.”
The head maid finally regained her composure and answered in place of the buried Betty, crossing her arms with a twitching brow.
