I had Jane wait for me as I stepped down from the carriage. Of course, he immediately started his lecture.
"Why did you ignore the Marquis? Don't you know how much he persistently bugged us about you?"
Blah, blah, blah. I wasn't listening. My ears were already on vacation.
"Whatever excuse you're making now, it's too late—"
"Clearly ignoring him," I said, striding forward. "See? Like this."
The Marcus tried to grab me, but before he even noticed, Jane and I were gone. Instantaneous movement.
I had to admit: Jane had grown. She could keep pace with the technique now—rapidly tapping her mana through her legs and shifting space in bursts. A neat little trick I'd hammered into her, one tap at a time.
The main mansion loomed ahead, just as gaudy as Josephine's memories suggested.
In my opinion? It looked like every generic aristocratic estate in every manhwa I'd ever read. Overly long corridors for no reason. Staircases so wide you could march an army up them. And chandeliers so huge they were basically siege weapons waiting to fall.
"Unnecessary," I muttered, ducking inside.
The maids bowed stiffly as I passed, all polite smiles but scrutinizing gazes. I could practically hear their thoughts: There goes the cursed duchess. Why is she even here?
I didn't care. I skipped the main living room entirely—too crowded, too many eyes—and opted for the spare living room upstairs. The maid at the door froze when she saw me.
I gave her my best villainess smile, the one that said: Shut the hell up and open the door.
She obeyed instantly.
"Jane, you can leave me now."
"But, Lady—"
"It's fine. Besides, don't you want to catch up with your sister?"
The maids in Konrow service weren't just servants; they were raised together, drilled together, bonded like family. Jane's expression softened for a heartbeat, then twisted into reluctant guilt.
"…Thank you, Lady Neph—"
I cut her off with a hand over her mouth before the watching maids got the wrong idea.
"Don't overdo it. Go. But if the Marquis asks about me, tell him nothing. Relay that to the others."
She nodded. Then I was alone.
The spare living room was just as grand as the main one—velvet chairs, gilded edges, an unnecessary dessert stand in the corner.
Well, unnecessary for them. Necessary for me.
I immediately raided it, stacking cakes and sweets onto a plate. Whatever else you could say about this suffocating mansion, their kitchen was top-tier. Since my own villa didn't keep a patisserie, this was my chance to indulge guilt-free.
"Where are my snacks, human?"
I jolted as Trynda poked their beak out of my pouch, eyes gleaming.
"…How long have you been in there?"
"Since the beginning, obviously. Now, where is my offering?"
"Fine, fine." I shoved a macaron at them before they started screaming about divine disrespect.
They pecked happily, then immediately demanded cake.
"That's chiffon cake," I explained, handing them a slice. "Don't ask me the recipe, I just eat it."
We spent a good fifteen minutes debating dessert textures, Trynda insisting macarons were superior while I defended tarts. Eventually, they waddled back into my pouch, wings sticky with sugar.
"Human," they said, muffled, "I am sure you sense it too. Someone is coming. And not just anyone—an aura rough and intense."
"Duh. I'm not dumb. But who the hell—"
The door creaked open before I could finish.
An old woman entered without a sound, robes trailing like shadows. She moved with the weight of someone who did not need to announce herself because her very presence demanded obedience.
Her hair was silver, her skin wrinkled but unyielding, and her gaze… her gaze cut sharper than any blade.
I knew instantly who she was.
Angelica von Konrow. Former matriarch of the family. The Warlord of the Empire. My grandmother.
Trynda nearly choked on cake crumbs in my pouch. "That's a final boss if I've ever seen one."
I stood at once, bowed properly. "I greet the former Matriarch."
"No need."
Her voice was a rasp of iron scraping stone. She gestured with one hand, ordering me to sit.
The air froze.
For a full five minutes, neither of us spoke.
The tension was so thick, I could feel sweat bead down my spine. My fork clinked softly against the plate as I pretended to nibble at a tart, though even the sweets tasted like ash under her stare.
This was the woman who had once ruled Konrow with fists and fire. Who had earned the empire's title of Warlord not by inheritance, but through sheer, bloody conquest.
Now, she sat across from me, silent, her eyes unblinking.
What was my grandmother really like?
Josephine's memories painted her as an indifferent figure. Always somewhere unseen. Rarely speaking, rarely showing her face. In fact, she was never even mentioned in the original novel—not once. Which heavily implied she had no role at all, despite being a direct Konrow.
Strange, right? The so-called "family-centered revenge story," and yet the former matriarch was just… absent.
What little I did know? Angelica von Konrow was said to live in the southern wing, much like Josephine herself. And, more importantly, she had once stood beside the 11th King as the empire's Warlord, leading armies and terrorizing entire nations into submission.
A legend. A ghost. A warlord. A grandmother.
But here she was, sitting across from me in silence. Watching.
I wasn't about to start small talk, so I went back to munching on the dessert tray. A macaron here, a tart there. Chew, sip, chew.
Awkward didn't even begin to cover it.
And then—
[A god has forcibly entered the chatroom!][Hey, blessed one! Why don't you use that skill you got? You know, the one from the Ashkart quest? I'm sure it'll come in handy!][The other gods are writhing at the development!][A god has been forcibly removed from the chatroom.][The gods are now arguing about the "agreement."]
Selene panicked.
[Selene: Benefactor! I'll disable the system for a bit while they—ahhh!][Warning! An error has occurred in the system!][System entering Standby Mode.]
My fork froze mid-air. "…The hell was that about?"
Then I remembered.
That skill. Omniscient First Person Viewpoint.
The name alone was sketchy, but when I pulled up the description, my stomach dropped. It wasn't just a throwaway title. It was a full-blown mind-reading scam, practically stolen from another story I knew too well.
"Would you like to use [Omniscient First Person Viewpoint] on target: Angelica von Konrow?"
The prompt blinked in my face.
"…Fine," I muttered, curiosity winning over caution.
And then—
Ah. My granddaughter.
My head snapped up. Angelica hadn't moved. She was still staring at me, lips sealed. But her thoughts…
You are so near to me, yet so far at the same time. My little Josephine has grown so much, yet I cannot even see it with my own two eyes. The last time I saw you, you looked so miserable. I wanted to comfort you. And yet… the Blood Bond chained me still.
I nearly dropped my fork. "What the—"
This wasn't just surface thoughts. It was raw, unfiltered memory bleeding into the present.
But you look better now. Stronger. I'm relieved. Even if you hide it under that aura of toughness, you're still a child who yearns for affection.
I swallowed hard, my chest tight. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
And then the thought stabbed through:
That damned son of mine.
The fork clattered against my plate. My hands trembled. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait—"
[Book Complete! Would you like to read through: Angelica von Konrow's Story?]
"What? No! Right now?!"
[Notice! Josephine von Konrow has assumed shared control of your body.]
"WHAT?!"
My own limbs moved without my permission. I jolted, panic flooding me. "Hey! No, no, no—I didn't agree to this! Selene, shut it off! System, cancel! Cancel!"
[Warning! DO NOT LOSE YOURSELF IN THE—]
The world around me twisted, bending like ink spilled over parchment. The living room warped. The chandelier stretched into a thousand jagged edges. Angelica's face blurred and sharpened at the same time.
And then I was no longer just in the room.
I was in her story.