Lilia's P.O.V
SLAP!
Pain erupted across my cheek as an elderly woman stormed into the room, striking me without warning.
No reason. No explanation.
Marie gasped and immediately dropped to her knees, clutching the woman's feet. Meanwhile, I gently touched my throbbing cheek. The sting of her hand was sharp, but what hurt even more was the sheer audacity of it all. "Madam, please don't hit my lady," Marie pleaded, her voice trembling. "I'll take the beating in her place. I beg you, please."
My eyes widened in disbelief at the scene unfolding before me, dread creeping up my spine. What the hell! Was this my life now? Being slapped around by this woman? The burn of the slap faded, replaced by something far more intense—rage. Pure, molten rage.
My fists clenched involuntarily as I watched the woman callously kick Marie away, sending her sprawling onto the floor. A dull cry escaped Marie's lips as if she was used to this nonsense, and that was it—my last shred of patience snapped.
"Enough!" I spat, stepping forward, my voice cold with fury. "Touch her again, and you'll regret it."
The woman turned to me, her eyes narrowing as if she couldn't believe I had the nerve to challenge her. But I didn't back down. I couldn't back down. I couldn't let the one person who cared about me get beaten. The fire of rage within me roared, drowning out any trace of fear. How could I, The Grand Duchess of The Cold North, let anyone beat my subject? The very idea of it ignited a storm within me.
Marie tried to scramble to her feet, but I motioned for her to stay down, my gaze never leaving the woman. "You think you can walk in here and treat us like this? You don't know who you're dealing with."
A moment of silence passed, thick with tension, as if the air itself had turned heavy, suffocating us all. The woman's lips twisted into a cruel smile, but I stood my ground, fists still clenched, ready for whatever came next. "Looks like my daughter-in-law suffered a memory loss after falling into the swimming pool."
Ah… it's my husband's mother. That explains the vile behavior. I guess it runs in the blood—torturing the weak.
"Mother, if you understand that I just got out of bed after almost losing my life, why are you running around my house like a wild horse?" My voice remained steady, dripping with icy disdain. I refused to show any sign of weakness. Not now.
The room felt suffocating as the tension thickened, the servants around us barely breathing. But I wasn't going to falter. She can't just hurt my person and leave unscathed. I wouldn't allow it.
"Or is this some twisted way to celebrate my recovery?" I added, taking a step closer, challenging her authority. Each word was laced with sarcasm and venom, but it was all well-deserved. No one disrespects me like this.
She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest as if I were nothing more than a mild inconvenience. "You're lucky to even be here, Lilia. Don't you dare call my son's house yours. If it weren't for my son, I wouldn't bother with you. A roadside beggar turned into the young madam of The Reynolds Family."
I raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference to her thinly veiled threat. My heart pounded, but outwardly I remained calm. "If you can't tolerate me being your daughter-in-law, that's your problem. Why are you going around beating my maid and slapping me? Are you dumb? Or has a screw always been loose in your head?"
Her cruel smile faded, replaced by a sharp glint of anger in her eyes. That's right, be angry. Let me see you unravel. "Hah! Aren't you flying high because my son showed you a little leniency? You think you're now his actual wife? The Madam of The Reynolds Family? You're just a replacement for her, Lilia. Don't you ever forget it."
Replacement? Wow. As if being in this family wasn't bad enough. Now I'm the substitute wife too?
Seriously, God? Just, what were you thinking?
The air in the room crackled with tension, and just when I was ready to give her another piece of my mind, loud footsteps echoed into the kitchen, stealing the show.
My heart skipped a beat as my darling husband strode into the room, his icy blue eyes sweeping over the scene. The very sight of him stirred a mix of emotions within me—hope, dread, and anger all colliding at once.
"AUGUSTUS!" The malice vanished from her voice, replaced by sickening sweetness. She hurried over, clutching his arm, pretending to be a sweet mother-in-law—the kind that would give you diabetes. "Thank heavens you're here! Lilia's been so different since her accident. I'm afraid she's lost her memory. She's never been this aggressive before." Her gaze slid to me, feigning concern. Her performance was so over-the-top, I had to wonder if she practiced in front of a mirror.
That's so fake. Even a maid in my era could see she's obviously acting.
I squinted at her, but stayed silent, trying to observe how my husband would react. Judging by the servants' behavior, this couldn't be the first time she'd manipulated him by lying.
Forget it, actually. What sort of person gets manipulated by simple words when they're old enough to be married? What, was he so short of money he had to sell his brain?
The burn on my cheek still throbbed, but I held back my anger. Augustus's eyes flicked from his mother to me, a glimmer of uncertainty flashing across his face. Ah, right. What did Cynthia call men like him again? Oh, yes—mama's boy.
I took a deep breath, keeping my expression calm despite the storm raging inside me. If I showed any weakness now, she'd win.
"I seriously don't know what's gotten into this girl, Augustus," she continued, her voice trembling with false hurt. "She even insulted me. You know I've only tried to help her fit into our family…"
My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms. Enough. I took a step forward, ready to retort sharply—until Augustus cut me off, his expression fierce. He looked like a man on the edge, as if caught between two worlds.
"Lilia," he said, his voice low and severe, "is this true? Did you insult my mother?"
The tension spiked, and for a moment, the only sound was the thudding of my heart. He didn't ask if his mother had hit me. He didn't ask if I was all right. No, his first question was whether I had insulted his mother. As if there wasn't a red handprint on my cheek.
Typical.
"It's true," I replied, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "But not until she hit me for no reason and kicked Marie."
Augustus glanced down at Marie, who remained curled on the ground, trying to make herself as small as she possibly could. The sight of her like that broke my heart. She didn't deserve this.
"Lilia, dear, you're confused," she simpered, her tone dripping with false pity. "All I wanted was to bring you to your senses, remind you that you're my son's wife. You've been out of sorts lately. I didn't mean to be rough, but you've just been so difficult. What were you thinking, jumping into the pool like that? I was so scared I would lose my daughter-in-law."
The audacity. My hands trembled with suppressed anger, but before I could respond, Augustus's face hardened. He turned to me, raising his hand to strike.
Time slowed, but I didn't flinch. I wasn't going to let them strike me again.
I caught his wrist mid-air, gripping it tightly. "Don't," I said, my voice ice-cold. The room fell silent, his mother's eyes wide as she stood there, dumbfounded.
Augustus stared at me, a mix of anger and confusion in his eyes. We stood there, locked in a silent standoff, but I refused to back down. Not this time.
The previous owner of this body might have put up with his nonsense. Not me.
"Touch me, and you'll regret it as much as she will," I warned, my tone deadly calm. I released his wrist, standing my ground. "I am your wife, Augustus, not some servant you can lash out at. If you can't treat me with respect, maybe you should rethink who you should really be angry with."
His hand dropped slowly, a little shock flashing in his eyes. He glanced at his mother, who now glared at me with hatred clear in her eyes. The realization that I was no longer the same little obedient wife who used to worship the ground he walked on must have hit him hard.
The previous owner probably never stood up to these jerks. That's why he's shocked.
Augustus sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He looked worn, like a man carrying too many burdens. "Mother, perhaps it's best if you leave. I'll handle this," he said, his voice strained.
She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a firm glance. She turned on her heel, casting one last venomous glance my way before storming out. The sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoed through the silent kitchen, leaving behind a heavy, oppressive atmosphere. The tension lingered in the air, thick and suffocating, like a storm that had passed but left destruction in its wake.
As soon as she was gone, the silence felt even louder, almost deafening. I stood there, unmoving, every muscle in my body still coiled tightly with residual anger.
Augustus stood a few feet away, his gaze distant, as if he was somewhere far away, trapped in his own thoughts. The servants in the room remained frozen, unsure of whether to flee or stay and pretend they hadn't witnessed what just happened.
Finally, Augustus spoke, breaking the silence. "Lilia," he began, his voice softer now, but still tinged with that ever-present tyrant authority. "I don't want any more trouble. Not from you, not from her."
I turned to face him fully, my eyes narrowing. "And what does that mean? Should I just stand there and take it when your mother decides to slap me? Should I be silent when she beats my maid?" My voice was calm, but each word was laced with bitterness.
He looked at me, his icy blue eyes searching mine as if trying to find something—some remnant of the woman he once knew. Specifically, the previous owner who left, probably tired of dealing with his nonsense. "I don't want to fight with you, Lilia," he said quietly. "I just want peace in this house."
"Peace?" I repeated, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. "Did you forget about peace when your mother and you slapped me?"
He sighed deeply, rubbing his temples as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. I honestly doubt that part
"I'll talk to her," he finally said, though his tone made it clear he didn't believe it would change anything. "So, let this matter slide. And, live quietly like before."
With that, he left the room, his footsteps fading down the hallway. I stood there for a moment, staring after him, my heart pounding in my chest.
A part of me wanted to scream, to cry, to release all the emotions bottled up inside ever since my execution yesterday to my transmigration today. But I couldn't. Not yet.
I turned back to Marie, who was still kneeling on the floor, her eyes filled with tears. I bent down and gently helped her to her feet, offering her a reassuring smile. "It's over—for now," I whispered.
I don't know who I was trying to reassure. Her… Or, Me?
Marie nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, my lady," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It was so scary..."
"Yeah… Scary," I admitted softly.
"But, My lady... did you... truly forget everything?"