READING GUIDANCE
" This is a direct sentence in the present time."
" This is a direct sentence in the past time."
' This is a character's inner thought in the present time.'
' This is a character's inner thought in the past time.'
[ This is a direct sentence in sign language in the present time.]
[ This is a direct sentence in sign language in the past time.]
HAPPY READING!
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Her name in her previous life was Lara Dena. One who was envied by many, one whom many believed lived in the upper places of luxury and happiness. As Lara Dena, she had smooth, straight black hair that never required much care, yet gave her a natural beauty. She had big black eyes that many desired. Her face was flawless, even though she never followed a daily skincare routine. She found it easy to learn things quickly, and even without dieting, she already had the perfect body that everyone adored.
Moreover, life had chosen to place her as the sole heir of a superior company in that world. Somehow, she was indeed looked up to by many. Many women lined up adoring her, sometimes envying her. Many men lined up to court her, desired her, and lusted after her.
Yes, she was indeed standing in the upper place where many desired to be.
Yes, she was indeed proud to be there.
The fact that she could easily obtain what she wanted.
The fact that people praised her.
There was a unique ecstasy that made her addicted to that kind of treatment. Even now, living as another girl in another universe, she still found it nice to be praised. She would not pretend otherwise—it was indeed a pleasant thing to know someone appreciated what she had done or possessed.
Yet the previous her, standing in that high place, somehow questioned the point of it all. She always wondered why she had to be born that way... because even though she herself had not yet realized or found the answer, her heart and body somehow recognized that the whole world of hers carried burdens and responsibilities equal to the position she held.
It was exhausting—mentally and physically.
It was filled with heavy expectations.
It was filled with fake and empty hopes.
It was filled with ugly truths.
"...are they friends or foes?"
And even a simple question, one that humans should easily answer, remained difficult to know.
Ironic, isn't it?
And...the saddest thing was, no one came to her about the painful reality before she had placed all her expectations in that position. She was too blinded, too entangled in that hellish place... thinking no one in this world was better than her own position. She only learned the truth in the most horrible way—and she regretted it every second.
She had thought that no one could fulfill her expectations other than the place she was standing.
'...and I am not really blaming her.' Because she was just trying to survive in that world, if she could somehow go back to her previous world when the previous her was still living, she would give her a big hug, embrace her tightly, and say her gratitude for somehow surviving.
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...Now, she could say that she was improving. That she was thriving, truly living, was something she wanted to thank herself for. The her who had survived all the nightmares... the her who had come to see the world's hidden beauty...
She could not fully put her gratitude into words.
Yet...it did not mean she could forget any of it. Even as her wounds began to heal, they did not vanish—they lingered, quiet but present.
So,
"...so, unless you are a fool, you should be aware of your position," it pissed her off to hear those kind words from someone who barely knew her. Irisha could not understand how else she was supposed to understand her position.
'I entirely understand it.' The gap in their positions was too big.
Then, does it matter?
...Even the question wandered inside her brain for a long time, and she could not answer it.
'I do not really care about the position, nor do I have ambition toward it,' and if she was honest, she had had enough of it. She was never expected to choose this position, never imagined herself in this situation—but fate had chosen otherwise.
Yet, it was not the same for both of them, right? For her, a commoner who was deaf and mute, and the crown prince of the superior empire.
'Will I survive?' in a place she understood entirely.
A place filled with wicked people wielding authority.
It was terrifying.
...It was terrifying, and even more so to think about it further.
"...Is it true that the crown prince will court the fifth princess of the Varaz Kingdom?" And the fact that people with no authority, like Irisha, could be asked this kind of question... she was aware of the intention behind this woman, who had never spoken to her much. "...Is it true, Ms. Irisha?" Irisha somehow found it funny what this woman had done. The woman did not even care that they were out of the public eye, with Tara beside her.
"...Hey! What are you asking?!" Even Tara reacted immediately, as Irisha herself should have.
"...But..." the woman put on a pitiful expression Irisha could not understand.
'Should I not be the one wearing that sullen face?'
...And maybe because of the mixed emotions, Irisha could not put an ounce of sincerity into the woman's actions—she could see right through them. 'You fake it.' The whole expression the woman now displayed was only because she needed information from Irisha.
[I am sorry, I think this is confidential information?] But she tried to smile, at least.
"But...you could just ask it," she said. "...No, I mean...you should know, right?"
And somehow she found it hard to compose herself.
"Because...you are the crown prince's lover," the woman said. While the whole sullen expression began to reveal the truth. A gimmick this woman created to hide the laugh she actually wanted to show.
Irisha loses her smile.
[...Where is your station?] asked her.
"Pardon?"
She smiled vilely. [I am asking your station.]
"Ah... I am working in the B-side area of the princess's palace."
[Who is your supervisor?] Irisha asked Tara, which somehow confused them both.
"Mr. Harry," Tara said, confusedly.
[Write a complaint letter to him about this woman... Who is your name...?]
"Pardon?!" The woman looked confused. "Why—"
[I am asking your name.] She said calmly. [...I don't even know your name; you never told me. In that case, we might not be as close as you think, and you shouldn't ask something so personal in the middle of work.] She then smiled. [Later on, be careful with what you say.]
"But, Ms. Irisha—"
She chose not to bother anymore. She blatantly ignored her and walked away.
Possibly, the normal her would have brushed this woman off gently—a way to avoid unnecessary trouble, because she already knew her position was filled with problems, and she wanted to minimize what she could handle. But she was just exhausted.
"Are you okay, Ms. Irisha?"
When Tara asked her this in her office, she was confused.
'Am I okay?'
She smiled bitterly. [I am not.] Then a faint, fragile smile slipped across her face. [Too many things in my brain... It's somehow tiring me out.] She let herself expose it... Her body is already reaching its limit.
Tara watched quietly, her eyes widening slightly. She had never seen Irisha like this—so tired, so raw, so quietly unraveling.
Irisha sighed, trying to gather herself, before glancing at Tara. [I am sorry. I am a little—] She tilted her head at Tara's gentle smile. [Are you okay?]
"Ah... I am sorry for my rudeness," Tara said, awkwardly smiling. "...I am just happy that you opened up to me." She added, "...I should have read the situation better."
[...Is it a happy thing?]
Irisha nodded slowly. "...It feels like you trust me." And she returned a warm, gentle smile—the kind that trembled at the edges, faint fatigue in her shoulders, the quiet pull of a heart still fragile.
She drifted into thought. [...I don't know.] Her hands fidgeted briefly before settling. [...If you asked me, 'Do you love him?' I would say it immediately. 'I do.' Without doubts. Without a single pause.] The faint smile she gave Tara now carried a softness... a blush rising without permission, a tremor in her chest.
[...You know... I once put my entire life into living for someone else. Thinking I wasn't worthy to live for myself, thinking my whole life was only for Arisha...]
[I love her. I do. And I still do. She is the reason I am still here. Yet... I could not accept that people could—or should—love me. Even when Arisha cried for me, loved me dearly... it never moved me. Because I thought I never deserved her.]
[Then he came, showering me with insistent affections. Treating me as though I am important. Showing me that I matter.] She pressed her face into her hands, covering her cheeks. Tara stiffened slightly, unsure at first, thinking Irisha was crying—but beneath her hands, Irisha was smiling gently. Leaning forward just a little, her body warm with the quiet blush of someone falling in love, trembling with a new vulnerability.
Tara's hands clenched subtly, watching, feeling the weight of emotions she had never fully seen from Irisha before.
[...So tell me, how am I not falling in love with him?] Irisha's eyes lifted to meet Tara's, a quiet, almost shy smile lingering.
Tara inhaled sharply, surprised, and looked at her steadily. "First, you are an important person! Even people who would not think it, I do. You matter because you inspire me." She continued, "You should know how your life has affected mine. You are the first person who moved me to develop myself."
"Second, you may not realize it, or you may think differently, but as someone who has always been beside you and the crown prince, I can say... it is not only you. He is in love with you too! So please, be confident and don't overthink it!"
And Tara expressed all of this in fluent, emotional sign language, her expressions strong, deliberate, leaving Irisha flustered. Her hands twisted slightly in her lap, her heartbeat quickening without her noticing.
[...You signed so fast.] She felt guilty, realizing that was the first thing she said to Tara. Then she smiled. [...But thank you. Your words are important to me.] She truly meant it, never expecting someone to see her this way.
"I will tell you every time if you need me—" Tara said. "...Do you understand now that you were misunderstanding the situation?"
She raised her eyebrows. [You mean I did not know the prince had feelings for me?]
"The same feeling. Indeed!"
And she laughed. "Unfortunately, I am already aware."
"THEN—"
[...But it is still not as simple as it seems.] She looked at Tara for a while, lost in thought. [...Unfortunately, although I find this world beautiful, I still recognize its ugliness.]
[...And I don't think I am enough to face it.]
To face all the things she once endured.
[...I do not believe in myself. Thinking about it further is terrifying. Moving to the next phase, creating a family... it terrifies me.] She looked at Tara with a miserable smile. [Am I capable enough to lead my family? To bring them the happiness they deserve? Am I strong enough to do so?]
Because... she knew the truth of her past failures.
While the whole beautiful world is wicked...
...and on that matter, she was terrified.
[...Ah, maybe you are right. I am not that confident.]
***