[Soul Synchronization complete.]

  [Warning: Curses are now considered as one.]

  [You may now view Josephine von Konrow's status.]

  [Josephine's Doom Rate: 17%]

  gasp

  "I'm — I'm alive."

  Why am I in my bed? Wasn't I just in the Mausoleum?

  I stared at the notifications for a moment. "Wait… okay. I can roughly piece together what happened."

  I sat up and stretched. Easier than expected — I felt lighter, faster, better than I had in months. My body actually felt like mine.

  I looked in the mirror. White glowing hair. Golden yellow eyes. The usual.

  "Hey, Josephine."

  The reflection shifted — jet black hair, crimson red eyes — and the figure yawned.

  "What is it, Yoo-ra."

  She looked like she'd just been woken up from a nap in my consciousness.

  "Just testing things."

  "Hah." She crossed her arms. "So I'm a test subject now?"

  She snapped open her fan.

  "Just because I said you could call on me anytime doesn't mean you should abuse it. Know your place, commoner."

  I nearly doubled over laughing. I had to clutch my stomach.

  "Y-you—!"

  "Honestly, can I just reach in there and hug you?"

  I'd almost forgotten how much I'd always stanned Josephine even back in my old world.

  "What— I'm leaving."

  She disappeared from the mirror.

  A knock at the door.

  "My Lady, may I come in?"

  I threw myself back into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin in approximately one second.

  "I'm coming in."

  Jane must have assumed I was still asleep. I could sense her in my mind's eye moving toward the vase, changing out the flowers. Her back was to me. Her shoulders were tense — the kind of tension that had been living there for two months and had stopped feeling like tension and started feeling like posture.

  She didn't notice.

  The room was very quiet.

  A finger twitched.

  Then a hand.

  The sheets rustled — barely, just barely — as something shifted beneath them. One arm rose slowly from the bed, fingers unfurling toward the ceiling like a question being asked of the universe.

  Jane froze.

  The arm kept rising.

  Then the other one.

  Both hands open. Reaching upward. The morning light hit white hair and scattered. I sat up — slowly, deliberately — spine straightening vertebra by vertebra, chin lifting, eyes opening fully for the first time in two months.

  The silence stretched.

  Jane had not moved. Had not breathed.

  A heartbeat.

  Another.

  "..."

  "..."

  "Hahahaha—"

  It started low. Almost reverent.

  "Hahahaha."

  Growing.

  "HAHAHAHA—!!!"

  I rose to my full height on the bed, arms thrown wide, laughter shaking the walls of a room that had been silent for two months—

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "M-MY LADY?!"

  "You fool, Jane!"

  Jane's eyes went wide.

  "It can't be—"

  "Thanks to you, I live again!"

  Every knife Jane owned appeared simultaneously.

  "STAND DOWN—"

  "WAIT. Wait, wait, wait—" I threw both hands up. "A joke! It was a joke! I was just messing with you a little, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

  The knives did not lower.

  "Look." I pressed a hand to my chest. "My name is Josephine von Konrow. Born in the third month of the imperial year 987. My favorite food is egg pie with lots of custard." I lifted my other hand and let a flicker of holy light pulse from my palm — [Sanctuary], barely a spark, just enough to be recognizable. "See? It's really me."

  Jane stared.

  The knives stayed exactly where they were.

  "What does my Lady dislike?"

  "Sweet and savory mixed together. Annoying people. Abandonment."

  "What is the name of the cat my Lady cried over when she was six?"

  I opened my mouth.

  Closed it.

  Josephine's memories surfaced immediately, helpfully, with complete accuracy.

  "...Biscuit."

  A long silence.

  The knives went away.

  "Yare yare." Jane exhaled slowly. "Only my Lady would remember something that useless."

  Her voice cracked on the last word.

  "But—"

  Then she pounced on me. Both arms around me, face buried in the hem of my nightgown, shoulders shaking.

  "I'm glad… that my Lady is fine."

  The Lady hadn't woken up in almost two months.

  I held her head with one arm and didn't say anything for a while.

  When she'd calmed down enough, Jane explained what had happened while I was out.

  Apparently the moment I entered the Tear, it began pulling the surrounding miasma back inward — like it was being called home. The cursed creatures that had been roaming the capital retreated, and the surrounding area started crumbling as the Tear tried to devour everything near it. Peter and Jane were evacuated by the sages before it collapsed entirely.

  Once they reached the outer wall, they watched the whole thing unfold. The miasma that had been spread across the continent condensed — slowly, then all at once — into a single sphere.

  And then the Tear ate it.

  Except Jane's version of events gets a little… complicated here, because apparently the Tear didn't just absorb it. According to her, the Tear transformed into a giant woman, physically grabbed the sphere, and ate it.

  I stared at her.

  She stared back.

  "I know how it sounds," she said.

  "…I'll file that under things I'll think about later."

  After that, the figure floated upward and vanished in a blinding light. Then I came falling out of the sky. The sages threw themselves under me to break the fall, which I appreciate deeply and plan to never acknowledge out loud.

  After that — I didn't wake up. No matter what they tried.

  The sages had checked me thoroughly. According to Almodey, nothing was wrong with my body. In fact, he noted that the instability of my soul had resolved itself. The synchronization had completed during the unconsciousness.

  Jane finished explaining and settled back against my shoulder quietly.

  "You are still my Lady," she said. "No matter who you are. When you're ready, you can tell me anything."

  I put my arm around her head and said nothing.

  I was not going to cry. I was not going to cry.

  Almodey's note was sitting on the bedside table, propped against a box.

  "Don't mind us — we've already given your maid the mask you were looking for. We'll be busy handling the capital's aftermath for a while. Come find us when you have the time."

  And below that, in smaller handwriting that looked like an afterthought:

  "Ashkart has been laid to rest in the palace's inner garden. We thought you'd want to know."

  I set the note down.

  Good. He deserved a proper grave. He'd held that vigil long enough.

  I opened the box.

  The mask sat inside, quiet and unassuming. It looked like a captured emotion — serene, almost unbearably so.

  I picked it up. Activated [Appraise].

  "Yes… hahaha… hahahaha—!"

  Countless bottled-up feelings detonated in my chest simultaneously.

  This mask. This stupid, infuriating, world-ending mask. I did ALL OF THAT for THIS MASK.

  I walked to the mirror. Put it on.

  Jet black hair. Crimson red eyes. Josephine's face looking back at me properly for the first time.

  "Finally."

  The appearance issue was solved. But—

  "What did I miss while I was under?"

  Jane told me about Adele.

  "Hm."

  Adele visiting the mansion was expected. Inevitable, even. The moment Peter disappeared and I went dark, she'd come looking. And the question of Peter and Adele eventually crossing paths had always been—

  "Peter," Jane said carefully, "ignored Miss Adele."

  I blinked.

  "He what?"

  Peter — avoiding Adele.

  I summoned the contract terms in my head and scanned through them. I hadn't forbidden Peter from seeing Adele entirely — only in specific circumstances where I was on vacation or unable to move freely. Outside those parameters he was allowed to interact with her normally.

  So why—

  "Where is he now?"

  Jane's gaze dropped. "He returned to the Palace. After that day."

  I clenched my fist.

  "YES."

  [Oi, Kim. Why are you grinning like that?] Josephine's voice surfaced in the back of my mind.

  That bastard is finally out of my hair—

  But why did Jane look sad?

  Shouldn't she be relieved? She and Peter had been at each other's throats this entire time.

  Her gaze stayed low.

  "My Lady… I know Peter and I had our differences. But we both had the same goal." She hesitated. "I think he went back because Lady Adele is scheming something against you while you were unconscious. He went to intercept it."

  I sat with that.

  [I told you. It's a sign of—]

  Obsession. Yes. I know.

  I picked up the newspaper archives Jane had set aside and started flipping through them.

  "The Empire's Newest 11th-Tier Swordmaster — The Crown Prince?!"

  Monster subjugations. Battlefield achievements. Infrastructure projects. The bastard had taken everything I'd taught him and used it to build a reputation. His name was everywhere.

  [Uh oh,] Josephine murmured. [At this rate it's only a matter of time before he becomes—]

  King.

  And in the worst-case scenario — he'd aim for my hand in the process.

  I'd originally taught him so I had a fighting chance at surviving. Getting noticed was supposed to be incidental. Is this how he repays me?

  This is bad. I need to rethink the plan. Again.

  [You know, marrying Peter isn't the worst outcome—]

  Absolutely not.

  [But you said yourself he's your type—]

  I said NO.

  [Your old-world apartment had an entire wall of illustrated men with their shirts off. I've seen it. I have your memories.]

  THAT IS A MAIDEN'S SECRET AND YOU WILL TAKE IT TO THE GRAVE—

  [Ohoho~ it seems I've used up all my mental energy for now. I'll be quiet for a while.] A pause. [Oh — one more thing, before I go. About the dinner tonight—]

  The door slammed open.

  Jane, who had stepped out while I was spiraling, stood in the frame looking faintly alarmed.

  "My Lady! The Matriarch has called for dinner!"

  [Do not take Marquis Jhake lightly. He is more cunning and perceptive than he appears.]

  And just like that, Josephine went quiet.

  I stared at the door.

  "…Right," I said.

  "Now."