Sitting on a bench, near a familiar corpse, her eyes are no longer shine. They're now burn with vengeance.

Maids running around her, passing through and stepping on the corpse as if there's nothing under their feet. The corpse itself, get devours to the dust in a speed of a normal eye's blink.

Today is the Empire's national day, celebrates the founding of this country. But where's the crown prince? The center of this masquerade party? Is he up there? Inside the castle working? Or is he down here? Lying restlessly on the ground with no one remember him? Is it both or it is none? Let the lady on the bench answer.

She's in her early 30s, the age of putrefraction.

Wrinkles start to appear, cover edges of her eyes, skin slightly rough showing her future appearance. Her younger self has vanish through the timeline of life, yet her mind is no dull, rather become more quick quitted by surviving in an agonising pool called society.

Her answer? Yes and no, let's say in between. They're both the crown prince, but their souls are not. Just like a book, you read through it and the characters will always acting the same way. They both are and both not.

Just like her.

And so, she's alone, allows the darkness to eat her up and disappear again, left no traces behind except for a small knife on where she just sat.

"Oh my gosh! I'm reincarnated! Gods must give me a second chance to pay for my sins!" A sound was heard from the mansion. It's the duke estate where it comes from.

But who is it that make the sound? An early 30s woman.
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"A new player has come."

"I hope she's as entertaining as the old one."

"There's nothing we can do, we've lost the bet."
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"Teacher, are you there?" A young lady enters, walking toward the woman.

"Yes? My lady?" The woman smiles brightly, no traces of the desperate and confident one was left, the woman stands in front of her is as innocent as an angel.

"She's not my teacher." The young lady looks at the woman with sad eyes, recall what her teacher says to her from many years ago...