Chapter 1:

One hundred and four consecutive lives.

One hundred and four consecutive lives, I've somehow managed to live, and each and every time it has always ended painfully. It didn't matter how I lived, it always ended with some misfortune. In fact, I'm convinced that I'm cursed or hated by some higher force. It only makes sense. I've died in almost every way possible - beheaded, trampled by stolen carriages, burned at the stacked, poisoned, butchered, starved, tortured, beaten. Oh, I could go on but there isn't enough room on this pages for it.

Now here I am, alone and on the verge of death, slowly but surely bleeding out. This life wasn't much different from the rest. The only difference is that I've refused to go beyond the bare minimum. Eat, sleep and eventually die. No friends, no gatherings and definitely no Silvesca. All day I rested in my bedroom enjoying my own company and silence and sometimes , when I felt peckish in the summer,  I'd sunbathe in the untamed fields beside the annex. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end and I knew that all too well. My father, an infamous Earl who was known for his vast 'collection' of wives and their children, had sold me off to the Empire's only Grand Duke to clear his debt. 

Our first meeting happened a week before our so-called wedding. I remember it so vividly. It was a cold November evening, autumn was coming to an end. The leaves on the trees weren't rich in shades of reds and oranges anymore but were plagued with murky hues, others barely hung onto their branches. The smoothed, grey concrete was cleared of any snow that threatened to come down. I watched from my bedroom on the third floor, five of the Grand Duke's golden-laced carriages steadily rolled in as the iron gates of the manor opened up. The coachman of the third carriage unlocked the door and out stepped a man in a morning suit. 'Lady Ophelia, it's time for you to enter the drawing room.' It was Marsia. She was my personal maid- not by choice but because no one else had volunteered and she was in dire need for higher wages.

'Marsia... when did you enter? You should've knocked before.' I replied gently

'My lady, I knocked quite a few times. I assumed you didn't hear me and I entered the room.'

'So you took it upon yourself to enter the room without my permission?'

'What? My lady I... you must know I didn't mean to cause any harm-'

'Don't panic, I only jest.'  

I was never good with people and always preferred to be on my own. Especially away from Marisa. She was a bright child, and always had a smile when she was around people. Marisa was quite pretty. Rather cute than pretty, she always kept her thick, brown locks straight and short, above her ears, and her pale face was decorated with dark freckles and large plain eyes. She wasn't much older than me and was quite short for her age. All these things made her look like a toddler and she hated it yet she didn’t make that fact obvious. By day she was a bright and expressive person but by night she was something else... the complete opposite. She secretly envied all the maids and noble women who were complimented by the men for their bodies and when night fell she'd sneak into the room of her prey, cut a small piece of their hair and make a doll with it - a voodoo doll. I only came to know this because, in my fifty-second life, I was one of her unfortunate victims. I felt sick with a disease one day and Marisa was the one who 'nursed me' but I didn't survive to see her the next morning, she’d confessed hours before my death. From that life forward I cover myself in anything that I could salvage. 

‘My Lady? My Lady, the Lord and the guest are waiting for you.'

'Yes, Marisa. I'll go.' With every step, I took to the drawing-room the more my stomach churned. The fact that my future partner was behind this door made everything worse. I already was under the pressure of receiving a punishment from Father if I made a single mistake.

As I entered, Father rushed to my side. 'My dear daughter, how have you been?'

'I've been well, My Lord.'

'My Lord? My daughter, please call me Father.' he laughed and looked at the direction of the guest,' She's always been strict with formalities, haven't you Ophelia.'

'Yes My-' I paused. 'Yes Father.'

'Ophelia, because of some unforeseen reasoning the Grand Duke hasn't been able to attend but in his stead, his butler has come.'

End of Episode