It Turned Out She Wasn't a Favored Concubine - Episode 93

“Your sister is dead.”

Upon hearing the undeniable truth, Louis staggered backward. Her eyes, always kind, were now filled with deep betrayal. It was a look that asked how such words could be spoken, but strangely, I didn’t feel hurt.

Rather, betrayal and resentment were emotions I should have been feeling. I turned away and demanded from Marianne:

“Tell me how to return to my original world. Right now.”

Marianne had clearly said it was possible to return. Her answer had been unmistakable.

But now, for some reason, she glanced sideways at Louis and didn’t respond as clearly as she had before.

“You said I could go back. Don’t tell me you were lying?”

I stepped closer to Marianne, pressing her. She opened her lips with a hesitant expression.

“It wasn’t a lie. But at the time, I thought there was a magician who had intentionally summoned you here. So I was prepared to threaten that magician to send you back.”

“So what are you saying? That it’s impossible?”

Marianne clenched her cheeks and closed her eyes.

“It’s not impossible, but I can’t tell you right now. You’ve just learned a lot of secrets—you need time to process. Let’s return to the palace first.”

“Why do I need time to process? I just want to go back to how things were.”

“No. Do you even know what your face looks like right now?”

What was wrong with my face? I raised my hand to touch it but stopped. There was no need to feel it. It was Arne’s face.

The memory sent chills down my spine. I didn’t need to waste time. Yet Marianne kept dodging the issue. I couldn’t understand it. Even she, who claimed to help me, wasn’t truly helping. I was getting irritated.

“Why won’t you tell me? Are you just like the rest of them—deceiving me with fancy words?”

I pointed a finger at the people around me, scanning them with disbelief.

I was the one who should be glaring at them with betrayal. I was the one who should be crying tears of resentment. They were all the same. All conspiring to deceive me.

I had been clueless and foolish. But I couldn’t keep being fooled.

“Tell me! Now! I’m going back. I’ll escape this ridiculous world and return to my real one.”

I grabbed Marianne’s slender wrist tightly. She let out a painful groan, but I didn’t let go. I gripped even harder until my fingers hurt.

“Stop it!”

Someone pulled my hands away from Marianne. It was Elliot. With Parcen’s face, Elliot angrily pushed my hands aside. The fury of a young boy showed strangely through the wrinkled face.

“I’ll explain, so don’t be rude to Princess Marianne. She’s done nothing wrong to you.”

I narrowed my eyes. It didn’t matter who had wronged me. I just needed someone to tell me how to go back. Elliot shielded Marianne and spoke:

“Since both you and I are in someone else’s body, it might be easier if I explain. Honestly, there’s not much to explain. You yourself are a living Motus. If you strongly desire to go somewhere, you can move there.”

I felt deflated. So there was no grand method to return to my world? Just think of where I want to go? I twisted my lips at Elliot’s irresponsible claim.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You think I’ve never thought of my original world? I think of my family and my home several times a day. But nothing ever happens.”

I had dreamed of home while suffering from a fever in the unfamiliar palace bed. Even before I knew Erich’s true intentions, I always thought of home.

No matter how luxurious the palace was, no matter how many jewels surrounded me, no matter how many servants waited on me—I always wanted to go back. If desire alone could return me, I would’ve gone back long ago.

“I can’t trust your words. Just desiring it makes it happen? There must be more to it. And you’re hiding it from me again.”

I didn’t trust Elliot. I didn’t trust anyone in this world. Elliot met my suspicious gaze head-on and said:

“You’ve already experienced it.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Elliot still looked at me with unwavering eyes.

“When?”

“Think carefully. The moment you were surrounded by a strange sensation and moved to the place you wanted to be.”

I had no memory of moving somewhere through Motus by my own will. The teleportation was strange, but I never wished for it.

The first time I moved through Motus was to Perlo’s lab. I had picked up a Motus tucked in Perlo’s research book at the palace library and was transported without knowing anything.

The second time was from a torch-lit altar to a dark forest—right under a wolf’s sharp claws. Again, it was an unwanted, unexpected move.

With the rare Motus that others struggled to experience even once, I had always ended up in places I didn’t expect.

…Except for one time.

That night, running through the dark forest, chased by wolves and trapped by the aristocrats’ scheme.

Even Giscal, who tried to save me, was gravely injured and close to death. At that moment, I was enveloped in a mysterious light I mistook for moonlight.

Holding his bleeding body, with our foreheads touching, I thought of the Edelheit mansion where we had lived together. And when I opened my eyes, we were in my room at the Edelheit mansion.

That strange sensation.

“That was me?”

Elliot quietly nodded. That night, he had said it was thanks to his experimental Motus that we arrived at the Edelheit mansion.

But thinking back, it was strange. Would he give an experimental item to his master? And why did we end up in my familiar room, not near Elliot?

The mismatched puzzle piece popped out.

Elliot’s lie didn’t affect me much. They had all lied to me anyway. The problem was that puzzle piece.

It rolled around and struck my mind hard. The question I should’ve asked first finally came to me.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

I stared blankly at Elliot. He avoided my gaze. I looked at Ortland. He lowered his tearful eyes.

I looked at Louis, still sobbing. She bit her lip.

And then there was one last person who had known the truth all along. But I didn’t look at Giscal. Instead, I asked again.

No—I cried out in resentment.

“You all knew how I came to this world, and how to return to my original one!”

I raised my hands, then let them fall weakly.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

My powerless question scattered into the air. But no one answered.

“Hah…”

I let out a hollow laugh. If they had told me the truth from the start, things would’ve been different.

Sure, I would’ve been shocked and angry, but I wouldn’t have suffered from the incomprehensible fear of being in a strange world.

And I would’ve tried harder to return home.

Maybe I’d already be back, living happily.

But they all knew and kept their mouths shut.

“You made me a stand-in? You made me play the role of that woman’s dead sister?”

My foolish mind couldn’t think of any other reason.

And didn’t she say it herself? Not to leave, to stay here. Disgustingly treating me like her sister.

“No!”

Ortland, who had been clasping his hands, firmly denied it.

“What do you mean no? She treated me like her dead sister. She called me ‘Your Highness’ but acted like I was her sister! She used me to ease her guilt over her sister’s death!”

The more I spoke, the more convincing it sounded. She cared for me to erase her guilt.

She stayed by my side through my fever, didn’t blame me when I was beaten and bruised.

Her devotion wasn’t for me—it was for her own guilt over Lucy, her sister.

“It’s absolutely not true. Yes, Louis cherished Arne—no, Yoon Seha—like a sister. But to say she used you as a stand-in for Lucy is utterly false.”

Ortland defended Louis again.

“Then what? You used me too? If you hadn’t sent Louis to the front lines of the Jaren Kingdom, none of this would’ve happened!”

“Th-that’s…”

Ortland swallowed a groan and shrank his shoulders. Even that was repulsive.

They had all irresponsibly dragged me into this world and used me.

Louis, Ortland—even Giscal! I clutched my head.

“Is there more? Oh, right! You used me in place of the reckless Arne to gain favor as the beloved concubine’s brother and build power! You crushed the aristocrats—if you used me well, you could seize the empire’s power, right?”

I spouted nonsense. But again, it sounded plausible. Giscal was also someone I could resent. He had to be.

At my accusation, Giscal, who had been silent, stepped toward me. I wanted to avoid him, but I stood my ground.

“That’s absolutely not true.”

“Hah, you still have something to say?”

“I’m a sinner—I have no right to speak to you. But I won’t let you suffer from a misunderstanding.”

Giscal’s throat bobbed.

“I didn’t tell you… because there’s another reason.”

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