The street of London is busy as usual. There are horse-drawn carriages and carts on th cabblestone road, weaving their way between pedestrians, by offering their wares. There's the sound of hammers and saws from nearby ships. In the distance, the church bells are ringing and the scent of freshly baked bread wafts through the air.

People are suddenly surprised as a carriage barrels down the road toward the gallows, knocking people out of the way. As it reaches the gallows on Tyburn hill, the driver of the carriage gets down from the carriage.

The guards inside the carriage also alight, taking down a girl in stained white dress. They all have a royal emblem on their coat chest.

The lady's hands are tied to her front and the guards lead her to the center.

A crowd has gathered already at the gallows.

She is about to be executed for her crimes, and the crowd is eager to watch. Some are shouting insults and jeers at the condemned lady, while others look on morbid fascination.

"She is very wicked. I'm very happy she is dying." A woman from the crowd utters as everyone there agrees with her.

"After what the second Lady of the Walcott have done to her. She deserved not any mercy." Another woman sayd with her nose scrunches in contempt.

Marianne look at the people one by one, checking if there is anyone among them who will just have a little sympathy for her, but all she sees is judgement.

Zero sympathy.

She has tried to tell them she knows nothing about her family's death, but no one believes her. Who would believe a lady with tarnished image over a dignified duke and the loving stepdaughter of the Viscount's family?

"Are you guilty of the crimes you committed?" The executioner asks but she utters no word.

The executioner raises his axe up. She looks straight and sees a lady in a simple dress, but a scarf to cover her face. It's her sister, Beatrice. Her head rolls down on the floor and blood splatters.

The satisfying looks on the people is enough to make Beatrice feel so much joy.

No one notices her or recognizes her.

After the deeds has been done, she turns away from the event and walks down toward an undesignated carriage. She enters it and smiles at the handsome man.

"Duke. She is dead." She says and the duke smiles, raising her right hand up to his lips to kiss.

"You are so good, my lady." He says and smiles, with his dimples showing. Oh God! What goodness has she done the God for her dream man to be finally hers, her thought.

But she must have forgotten that all good things last not forever.

Hundred days later.

On mountain not very far to London, a very young girl stands up and starts walking out of the deep forest.

"In as much as God answer my prayer, I will serve him forever." She sings as she enters the street of London.

People watches her weirdly and think she has gone mad. Although she is weak, she is fatigue, both mentally and physically. Head ache, dizziness and lightheadedness is what she is facing. But she is still in faith that God will definitely answer her prayer.

"What exactly are you praying for?" An old woman in white meet her on the road and ask.

"Why do you want to know?" She stop and ask in return. The woman smile lightly and replies.

"I just want to help."

"Okay. I want my lady to wake up." She says naively to the woman.

"It can't be done, my child. Her head is detached from her body." The woman speak and the girl is surprised.

"I don't believe you. How can my hundred days of fasting and praying be wasted. It is unfair." She says weekly as tears that fulls her eyes refuses to shed.

"Do not worry my child, something else can be done." The woman console her.

"What is it?" The child ask with smile.

"She can be sent back in time, she can redeem herself." The woman simply says.

"Then that would be fine, I will tell me lady what to do and not to do." The little girl says with her face lightning up in a smile.

"That shall be impossible, because your memory shall be sealed." The woman says and before the little girl could retort, the woman snaps her fingers.

It is early in the morning in London.

Marianne is sleeping in a bed with heavy curtains drawn to keep out the light. She is wearing a night suit, shirt and trousers made of linen or cotton and a nightcap to keep her hair neat. Her room is been lit by oil lamp. She is even warm under a heavy woolen blanket. The sounds of the city waking up would have drifted into her room, but she is blissfully unaware, still wraps up in the cocoon of sleep.

Suddenly the sound of crow cawing outside the window break her from the slumber, and also the crowing of the rooster. The cock-a-doodle-doo ring out through the morning air. She sighs in frustration and curses th rooster who wouldn't let her have this peaceful dream of hers.

She opens her eyes and sees a shaft of light from the window cutting through the darkness of the room. The comes the sound of the footsteps and hushes voices - the maids has arrived to wake her up and prepare for the day.

"Good morning, young master." One of the maids says in a soft voice, pulling the curtains open and letting the sunlight stream into the room.

She is very confused to see those faces of the maids and she couldn't help but scream.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!"

The mansion of the Viscount's can't escape it this time,as the wall shakes.

Her scream runs through every corner of the mansion, till it gets out of the mansion.

The maids that are assigned to cleaning cannot help but shake their head, their young master is useless as ever.