I watched the woman pacing restlessly across the sitting room, occasionally disturbing the spills of golden sunlight entering through the window cracks. I had been reading a particularly good book, paired with a nice cup of warm tea when she had burst in.

I decided I could not tolerate her passing in front of me, off and about. It made me lose my focus.

I set down the book onto my lap, returned the teacup to its saucer and sighed.

"Mother, will you ever stop? A marriage proposal will not magically appear out of thin air if you fret around like that. Calm down and sit."

I'd become accustomed to calling her my mother. Though the reason why my soul came to this body after I died remained a mystery for me, I'd managed to come by and willed myself to get used to all this newness. Of course, it was quite tricky learning the habits of a twenty-year-old dead girl. But like I said, I managed.

I was not the Empress anymore—that was for sure. Now, I am simply just a daughter of a noble family. Much to my great misfortune, this house was on the brink of ruin.

The aristocratic family of Lorraine had lost nearly all its fortune thanks to the head of the family himself, Viscount Lorraine. Due to his gambling addiction, he had accumulated piles of debt. As an act of desperation, he invested in shady business deals and loans.

Well, what would you expect?

He got scammed and was swindled out of his own money. Pretty dumb if you ask me.

And the solution my new parents had thought of was the most typical decision every noble house resorts to when they find themselves at the edge of the cliff of destruction.

Marriage.

They thought they could save themselves and the family if they wedded off their only daughter to some random lord. But with the sorry-looking zeroes in the dowry they could offer, the gentlemen frowned and would shy away at any given opportunity, choosing instead to discard their pretense at politeness and formality.

Lady Lorraine, the lady of the house or should I say mother, was now facing me. She glowered at me, hands planted on her hips. "What did you just say? No daughter raises her voice at me like that!"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I lifted my gaze to meet hers, filled with the unyielding fire befitting of a ruler.

It was not as though I hated this present life. In fact, I have been nothing but grateful to be given this second one. But this woman made me think otherwise.

Viscountess Lorraine had made no effort to think of another way to solve our current problem. She'd been acting like a normal noblewoman. Attending social gatherings and parties as if the servants in her house weren't slowly leaving.

It took some convincing and kind words from me to make a few stay. Even though I wasn't certain, I promised them that my family would find a way out of this. That last month's pay will surely come. And the month before that.

"You are not actually worried about me, the family, or the house. You're concerned with what the other ladies will say about you, what with the condition we are in right now. But that's assuming they haven't talked behind your back yet." I smiled sweetly. "So sit down, Mother. You are disrupting my reading."

"Y-you! What... you!"

I almost laughed. "At a loss for words, Mother?"

She was fuming, already red as apples. "Clarisse Lorraine, you and your preposterous mouth! You ought to learn respect, young woman—"

"What does respect have to do with you?"

"Why, you insolent brat! This is exactly why no one wants you. Why girls your age avoid you. And why boys refuse to court you. You are one of the reasons why we are in this mess! If you'd have been much kinder and sweeter, you would have caught yourself a husband by now!"

I rose from the chair, the economics book dropping onto the floor with a thud. Clarisse’s shelves were lined with nothing but books containing topics of economy, politics, business and the like. It spoke a lot about her and her interests.

"Right, blame me all you want! But Mother, I have no friends not because of the reasons you speak of. I am like this because it is my choice. I love to be alone with my books. You cannot chide me for being different."

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At moments like this, it might seem like I was speaking up for the original owner of this body. Maybe I was. It didn't matter. The previous Clary didn't deserve those words.

She was a timid girl. I could tell. I could also tell that she was sick of her life.

Apparently, she had left a diary before killing herself. Yes, it was suicide. And perhaps my wandering soul simply chanced upon her empty body.

The diary was filled with depressing notes that had talked about her depressing life. With parents like hers, I couldn't say I was surprised. I had skipped to her last entry. Since it felt wrong to know her personal secrets. I should at least offer a sense of privacy to a dead girl.

Her last entry made my heart sink: "You were my last sliver of light in this dark world. But now, there is only darkness. I am sick of it all. Wherever I might go after this, I know I will be at peace."

Whoever "you" meant could have been a lover of some sort. Although I suspected her mother and father knew nothing of it. Now it was all buried in the past.

It had been two years since the Empress of Solaria died. And two months ago, I found myself waking up as an entirely different person. Right then, I had decided to treasure this body.

For the previous Clarisse Lorraine, I would take care of it. And that included not allowing people to talk badly of her. This could count speaking up for myself as well.

And just as I previously said, I was still learning the habits of the old Clary. I would not perfectly act as her old self this early in the game.

"Yelling again, Rebecca? That is not good for your heart, you know."

My father came striding into the sitting room, fixing his silk cravat as he headed straight for the mirror.

"Arthur! Listen to me, Clary has been acting strangely these days! It's as if she's been possessed by an evil demon! Do you suppose we should take her to a healer or something?"

Arthur's brows furrowed while eyeing me. I crossed my arms.

"She seems fine."

I nodded. "Yeah, and you'd need an exorcist and not a healer if that were true."

He shrugged and went back to the mirror. "Clary's been having a different behavior during the past months. I almost thought my daughter had a lover and we could get out of this hellhole. Turns out that wasn't the case."

My lips curled downward. "I am not some item on display that you can simply sell at the last minute."

The Viscount ran his fingers through his fading dark-blue hair. "Of course not. You are my daughter. Who would have had better marriage chances if she smiled more."

I could see the triumph printed on Rebecca's face. No wonder Clary wanted to die.

One might wonder why—that even with the skills and knowledge I possessed as Solaria’s Empress—I had not assisted them in salvaging the family’s fortunes and reputation. Oh, I am capable enough, all right. But I refused to do so.

They are sick, and therefore, do not deserve any ounce of help from me.

My eyes fell on my father's pocket. Looking closely, it looked like—

I bit my cheek to prevent a devilish grin from escaping. "Where are you off to, Father?"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm going to Baron Littleton's manor. See if his son is interested in marrying my lovely girl."

I tilted my head. "Really? You're not going to the club five alleys away?"

He snorted. Too forceful to be normal. "No, of course not, my dear!"

"Truly? Then what's Mother's necklace doing in your pocket?"

The Viscountess gasped. She was quick to snatch the sapphires from Father's pants. She held the necklace in the air. "Arthur, you fiend! No wonder my jewelry have been missing as of late!"

He raised his hands, fumbling for words. "Y-you don't understand! I... I don't know why it got there!"

Normally, I would leave them to fight like kittens and head to my bedroom. But today, someone joined in.

A maid knocked on the door. "My lord, there is a messenger from the palace."

My blood went cold. I began to tremble, balling my fists so it would not show. Why would there be a messenger from the palace?

It was said that Kazriel, my older brother, became Emperor after I was gone. I’d much prefer it if it were our youngest who took the crown. Elian was better than Kazriel in more ways than one, at least he was not gullible. Cynthia, too—my younger sister—was a lot deserving of the title despite her disinterest on political matters.

Kazriel, that treacherous brother, no doubt he conspired with Grand General Ethan on my assassination.

Did he find out about me somehow? No, he couldn't have. That was impossible.

But what if Kazriel did come up with the knowledge that I was here? Knowing him, he wouldn't want a threat to his rule. With this helpless body, I could never stand a chance!

Why was it that when I thought that the ghosts of my past would not destroy my newfound peaceful life, they somehow managed to claw their way back to me? I had grown rather fond of doing nothing, ruling nothing. Away from the wary and deceitful eyes of the court, away from their schemes.

Breathe. I had to breathe. Perhaps this was not what I thought it was.

"Tell them to come in," said the Viscount.

Mother was still complaining about him stealing from her jewelry box.

A man I was not familiar with came inside. Perhaps Grand General Ethan killed all the servants who were loyal to me that night. A chill slithered down my spine with the memory.

After bowing, he went straight to what he wanted to say. The man did not bother with pleasantries.

"I have come to tell you that His Royal Highness, Elian Solaria, youngest son of the former Emperor of Solaria, has proposed to marry the only daughter of Viscount Lorraine."

The walls caved in.