เรื่องสั้นแนว Tragic Love Romance และนิยายในฉาก Time Travel

By the seventh year of her marriage to Lythas Valeraine, Giselle Rushton had become the most virtuous and sensible lady of the house in all of Valadoria, the capital. She no longer wished for a husband who would devote his life to her alone. Instead, she took it upon herself to find him a mistress. She no longer insisted on controlling the household. Instead, she entrusted most of its affairs to his mistress. Nor did she continue to revolve her life around him. Instead, she found one excuse after another to send him to his mistress's courtyard. Even when their son, Leoric Valeraine, burned with fever and cried out for her in his delirium throughout the night, she remained in her room and calmly leafed through a storybook without so much as raising her eyes. Finally, Lythas could contain himself no longer. He shoved open her door and demanded, "Giselle, how much longer do you intend to keep this up?" Giselle slowly raised her head, her expression devoid of emotion. "Keep what up? Whatever do you mean, my lord? I haven't done anything."

On the night of the Imperial Winter Festival, the fake princess personally lit the Grand Lantern. But as the lantern lit up, an image appeared on its shade, revealing a horrifying scene of me, the real princess, being thrown into a beggar's den and violated by one man after another. The noblewomen blushed with embarrassment and called me depraved by nature. They said anyone who had suffered such a fate should have taken her own life long ago, yet I'd shamelessly continued to live. Some even claimed I was worse than a prostitute behind closed doors, saying countless men had used and ruined me. My brother, the king, kept his eyes fixed on me and ordered his secret guards to watch me in case I tried to hurt Francesca. But the arrogant, spoiled princess I once was had long since disappeared. Faced with their humiliation, I smiled at the noblewomen attending the banquet. "You're right. Someone like me deserves to die." When she realized I wouldn't take the bait, Francesca deliberately dropped and shattered a treasured keepsake left behind by our late mother, then pretended to accidentally step on my dress and tear it. Even with everyone staring at me, I remained as numb and submissive as ever. My brother thought Francesca had gone a little too far. Nevertheless, he gave me an approving look. "Leah, after five years of studying at the Abbey of St. Faith, you've finally learned to be gracious and tolerant of others." His words struck me as laughable. What grace? I'd simply given up on the brother who had humiliated me time and time again.