So much so that when we died miserably in my past life, he didn't shed a single tear.

If anything, he was relieved he wouldn't have to write up divorce papers after all.

This time, no matter what it took, I would change my daughter's fate and my own.

Hildegarde and I knelt at the gates of the ducal estate. The servants couldn't bear the sight of us and reported our arrival five or six times. Two hours later, my father finally came out.

"Reduced to this sorry state, and NOW you remember you have a father?"

He held a riding crop in his hand and raised it as if to strike me. I didn't flinch, didn't move to dodge. Instead, I stepped closer.

"Your daughter knows she was wrong. Beat me, kill me, do whatever you see fit."

"I regret not listening to you back then. I put my trust in the wrong man."

Tears streamed down my father's weathered face. He didn't strike me. He threw the crop to the ground and pulled me to my feet with trembling hands.

"You were so heartless back then. You threw away your own father and your home for a man. But since you know you were wrong, cut those ties clean and come home where you belong!"

"As long as you sever that cursed bond completely, you are still the Duchess of Ashford, and this estate is still yours."

He told me to change out of my rags, but I shook my head.

His expression shifted. "Don't tell me you still intend to have dealings with that man?"

I smiled faintly. "He wronged me this deeply. You think I can just turn the page? I need to make him pay first."

That same day, I took Hildegarde to the Eastholm Marquess Manor and sent word inside.

"Tell Finn Acevedo his wife has come home."

The guards at the gate took one look at my tattered clothes, wrinkled their noses, and grabbed their sticks to shove us away.

"Where'd you beggars crawl out from? This is the Eastholm Marquess Manor!"

"The lady of the house is hosting a banquet for the most powerful nobles in the capital. If you disturb her guests, you and your little brat won't have enough lives to pay for it!"

"Go on, get! Get out of here!"

I'd expected exactly this. I deliberately stepped back, dropped to my knees, and raised my voice for the whole street to hear.

"Someone help me get justice! Finn Acevedo married me six years ago in a proper ceremony. I bore him a daughter! He promised to bring me back within three years and make me his lady. But now that he's the Marquess, he left me and my child in the countryside eating weeds! Is that something a human being does?!"

The manor sat on a busy street. The commotion drew neighbors from every direction, and whispers rippled through the growing crowd.

"They say the Marquess is famously devoted to his wife. He's got two children with her and won't even take a concubine. So where did THIS wife come from?"

"Probably a fraud. I mean, look at her. The Eastholm Marquess Manor is high society. She claims to be his wife, but she looks like a beggar off the road. Bet she's just some grifter trying to latch onto a noble house."

I listened without a flicker of emotion, then reached into the bundle I'd brought and pulled out a marriage certificate.

"Take a good look. This is Finn Acevedo's own handwriting. If he refuses to acknowledge me as his wife, I'll take this certificate straight to the courthouse and beat the drum for justice."

The head steward, lurking in the shadows, caught a glimpse of the handwriting on the certificate from a distance. His brow furrowed.

He leaned toward the gate guard. "Stay here and watch her. I'm going in to inform the Marquess and the lady of the house."

I saw every bit of it.

Sure enough, before a quarter hour had passed, Finn Acevedo came striding out of the manor, and right behind him, draped in gold and silver, was Edith Henson.

The steward pointed at me. "My lord, this woman claims to be your wife. If she's a fraud, I'll have her thrown out at once."

Finn looked down at me from the top of the steps. "Lift your head."

I tilted my chin up slowly, the ghost of a smile on my lips.

The moment he saw my face, every drop of color drained from his.

"Narelle, is it really you? What are you doing here?"

He strode over and lowered his voice to a hiss.

"If you wanted to see me, you could have sent word through the servants. Why make a scene in front of everyone?"

"Besides, I told you in my letters not to come back on your own. When the time was right, I would have sent someone to bring you."

I held my daughter tight and stared at him in cold silence.

Five years apart, and Finn looked even more handsome than before. Younger, somehow.

His robes were made of the finest fabric, the cuffs embroidered with gold thread.

My daughter and I, by contrast, were dressed in rags. Our rough-spun clothes had more holes than I could count.

"Husband, didn't you promise me yourself? You said within three years, you would send someone to bring me back to the capital. It's been five."

Finn's expression darkened, though a flicker of panic crossed his eyes.

"Narelle, I will bring you back. But not now. The manor is hosting a banquet for high-ranking officials and dignitaries. Take the child and leave. We'll talk later."

He slipped a heavy pouch of silver into my hands, expecting me to take the money, walk away, and pretend we had nothing to do with each other.

I smiled coldly, opened the pouch, and turned it upside down. Silver ingots clattered across the stone ground.

"The Marquess has done well for himself. And this is how you dismiss the wife who stood by you when you had nothing? A few coins?"

My voice carried just far enough for every servant and guard within earshot to hear every word. Finn's face went darker still.

He clenched his jaw and leaned in close. "What do you want from me? I said I'd bring you back. Can't you just take the child and wait a little longer? Just until tonight—"

I turned away with a cold smile, shifting my daughter in my arms as I walked toward the manor gates.

"Our daughter hasn't eaten in three days. I'm afraid she can't wait."

"Tell me, my lord, why are you so desperate to keep your own wife from stepping through the door? Is there something in there you'd rather I not see?"

I knew exactly why Finn didn't want me inside. The banquet hall was filled with the most powerful officials in the empire, and among them sat Imperial Consort Rosalind, the Emperor's most beloved consort.

Every guest seated comfortably at those tables believed that Edith Henson, his sister-in-law, was the rightful Lady of the Eastholm Marquessate.

A wife appearing out of nowhere was a problem Finn had no idea how to explain.

And that was precisely why I was here. To make sure he couldn't.

Finn stared at me, his face drained of color, scrambling for a way out.

Edith's eyes darted, and then she stepped forward with a warm smile, reaching for my arm.

"Sister-in-law, what are you saying? You're Finn's wife, which makes you family. You and the child arrived so suddenly that Finn was simply overwhelmed with joy and didn't know what to say. He would never hide anything from you!"

She tried to steer me toward a side chamber.

I pulled my arm free. "You must be the elder sister-in-law."

Edith's smile froze for a heartbeat before she forced it back into place with a nod.

In my previous life, I had pitied Edith for losing her husband so young. I never thought to guard myself against her. So when she led me to that side chamber and offered me pastries, I never once suspected her intentions.

I had no idea that the poison in those pastries was what killed my daughter and me. And the hand that placed it there was Edith's.

"I think I'll skip the side chamber. Didn't my husband just mention there's a banquet going on? My daughter and I are starving. We'll eat there. And while we're at it, my husband can introduce us to everyone."

"Narelle!"

Finn's voice dropped to a sharp growl. "You want to walk into that banquet dressed like that? You'd humiliate the entire marquessate on purpose?"

"At least change your clothes first. Edith, would you take her to—"

Finn froze the moment the words left his mouth. When I said nothing, he rushed to explain.

"Narelle, don't misunderstand. Edith is the only family I have left in this manor. I think of her as my own sister. That's why I call her that."

"There is absolutely nothing between us!"

His frantic explanation only made my stomach turn.

I would never forget what I saw in the moments before I died.

Edith had wept and lied, claiming that my daughter and I had been greedy and eaten pastries laced with rat poison by mistake, and that was how we'd died.

Finn hadn't shed a single tear for us. Instead, his face had softened with tenderness as he pulled Edith into his arms, slipped the clothes from her shoulders, and held her close.

He kissed the tears from her cheeks, murmuring comfort.

"Dead is dead. Even if she hadn't died, I would've served her divorce papers in a few days anyway."

"For years now, the only people in my heart have been you and the two children. There's no room for anyone else, and I won't let anyone disturb our life in this manor."

From that moment on, everything I'd ever felt for him was gone.

Edith brought me back out once I'd changed. Finn was crouching in front of Hildegarde. "Don't you remember your father?"

Hildegarde stared at him in terror, shrinking back step by step, then ran to me and clung to my leg.

"She was only a few months old when you left. You didn't come back for five years. How would she possibly remember you?"

Hildegarde was only five, but with the grime washed from her face, she looked like a little porcelain doll.

Finn scooped her up and tried to coax her. "Be a good girl, Hilda. Say 'Daddy.' I'm your daddy."

She only found him strange. Her small lips pressed into a thin line as she studied him with wide, cautious eyes.

He hadn't raised her. After a few more attempts with no response, his patience ran out.

"Narelle, you've come and you've been seen. When are you planning to go back?"

I stared at him, stunned. Then I laughed.

"You mean you want me to take our daughter back to that miserable hovel and keep waiting, day after day, for you to come get us?"

Finn's brow furrowed, a shadow of irritation crossing his face.

"I told you, when the time is right I'll bring you both home. The time isn't right yet."

"I know this manor looks grand, but there are a lot of people living here. There really isn't a spare room for you and Hilda. Once the side residence is renovated, I'll send for you..."

I cut him off, my voice flat and cold. "Give it up."

"My daughter and I have stripped nearly every wild plant off that hillside. Then the floods came, and even the refugees can't find food. We were on the verge of starving to death. I wouldn't take her back to that place if you made me a servant in this house."

It was laughable, really. The manor had dozens of courtyards, crawling with maids and servants.

And Finn claimed he couldn't spare a single room for his own wife and daughter. Did he truly think I was that stupid?

In my last life, I never told him, not even on my deathbed, that my father was the Duke of Northwall.

I had believed that standing by love meant something. That my devotion proved my worth.

In the end, I was nothing but a joke to them.

Five years rotting in that hovel, and none of it had mattered at all.

Finn's face went white. "What are you talking about? You were digging wild plants to eat? I had a hundred silver taels sent to you every month!"

I stared at him. "When did you ever send money?"

"In five years, all I received were your letters every few days. Not a single coin."

Finn whipped around, his eyes locking on Edith.