Those aunties were right

The journey back to the familiar camp, where I died for the first time, was fantastic.

The emperor rode a black horse. I was on foot.

My hands were tied with a rope. And guess where the other end of the rope was?

It was tied to his ankle. 

My soul was screaming at me to call the cops for violations of human rights. Then, the surrounding reminded me that things like human rights probably didn't belong in this fictional world. 

The soldiers, who were riding the horses too, kept peeking at me with fear. However, the commander had mixed feelings in his eyes.

I had worked with people for a long time. I wasn't a sixteen-year-old high schooler. I was a freaking thirty-one-year-old mature and accomplished woman inside the body of a skinny woman who might be in her late teens or early twenties. 

Aloisia was also young. How did she become a dark sorceress? This world was not kind to the dark magic practitioners. I guess every story needs a villain. 

But there wasn't just one villain. There were villains.

My damn fate was connected to villains.

In any case, I didn't want to die again. It was not even on my to-do list here. I wanted to go home as soon as possible. I missed my comfortable bed, my father, my nagging mother, my good-for-nothing brother, and my high and mighty sister. 

I even missed the acquaintances who killed me with small talks, annoying neighbourhood aunties who kept worrying about me because I was practically an unmarried old crone in their eyes, my boss who hated my guts, my colleagues who badmouthed behind my back, and my juniors who probably wanted to hire an assassin to kill me. I also missed my date, whom I couldn't meet. 

Those aunties were right. I died single -- not once. I died single twice. However, I was killed by a good looking man.

Can I see this as an accomplishment? It's not easy to die single in a society that looks down on people who remain single for life. Anyway, why do people want to get married? If someone has a lot of money, do they need someone? If I must choose between marriage and money, I will pick money anytime. The reason? Money can't divorce me.

"Oomph!" My face slammed against something hairy and it swished on my face as I lifted my foot to take a step back. A strong hot gas sprayed on my face. I sniffed it like a fool while blinking my eyes. Shit!

"What are you doing, you shameless bitch?" The horse neighed loudly, clearly offended by my sniffing attempt.

"What is she doing?" Jep muttered to his fellow, Tyyn.

"She's probably doing dark magic," Tyyn replied with a trembling voice.

The third soldier, whose name I still don't know, whispered to them, "Maybe she had cast a spell on the prince."

Just how brushing my face on a horse arse was related to doing black magic? I couldn't decide whether they were foolish or I was blind. I inhaled sharply, only to taste that horse's fast that was somewhat better than the smell of dogshit.