1. Transmigration

Song Eun Ha had always felt at home with a sword in her hand. The rhythmic thrum of the blade cutting through the air, the calculated precision of every strike, it was all she had known. Her life in Korea was simple — a kendo player training day in and day out, always aiming for perfection, always pursuing the next challenge.

But nothing could have prepared her for the abrupt shift, the dizzying fall through worlds, and the overwhelming disorientation that followed. One moment, she was practicing her kendo moves beneath the quiet cherry blossoms, and the next, she was standing in the grand halls of an unfamiliar castle, the cold stone walls towering over her.

The Duke's mansion, with its gold-embellished furnishings and flowing tapestries, was a far cry from the modest dojo she had once called home. Yet, there she stood — not as a warrior, not as a master of her art — but as a wife. His wife. The unloved wife of Duke Renald Lethian, a man known across the lands for his strength and influence, but not for any affection he might have had for her.

Her marriage had been arranged without her consent, her existence as his wife nothing more than an afterthought. The whispers of the court said she was nothing more than a pawn, another name on a list, and even in her heart, Jiwoo could feel the cold truth of their words.

But there was something in her, a spark — the same fire that had guided her through countless battles in her old world. She wasn’t about to let this fate define her. The world around her was strange, but her sword was still by her side, and in this world of magic and politics, she would carve her own path.

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Song Eun Ha couldn't help but feel the weight of her situation pressing in on her as she stood in the heart of the Duke’s mansion. The towering stone walls and gilded furnishings felt like a cage, beautiful but cold. She had been thrust into this unfamiliar world with nothing but her training and her sword, and though the strange magic of this place swirled around her, her grip on reality remained steady. She would not let this world break her, not when her spirit still burned with the same fire that had always guided her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. A servant, with eyes lowered in respect, appeared before her. “My Lady,” the servant said, bowing, “The Duke requests your presence in the study.”

The Duke. Renald Lethian. His name carried with it the weight of power, yet it felt hollow when it was tied to her. Their marriage had been nothing more than an arrangement, a political maneuver that had stripped away her choices. He had never shown her affection — not even the barest amount of kindness. She had been nothing more than a symbol, another pawn in the court’s games.

“Lead the way,” Song Eun Ha said, her voice unwavering despite the churning in her stomach. Her life as a kendo player had taught her discipline and focus, and now, in this strange new world, those lessons would be her strength. She would not crumble.

The servant guided her through the halls, and the mansion’s overwhelming wealth and grandeur only seemed to deepen her sense of alienation. It felt like the world she had once known — the simple, familiar dojo — was a lifetime away.

As they reached the study, the door opened, and she stepped inside, her eyes immediately locking onto Duke Renald Lethian. He sat at the desk, his dark eyes cold as he looked up at her, as if expecting her to be nothing more than a decoration at his side.

Alexandria Valentine Lethian, Duchess of Lethian Duchy, entered the study with the same composed grace she always carried. The Duke’s gaze met hers, piercing and calculating, but she remained unmoved. It had been months since their marriage had bound her to him, and still, she was little more than a shadow in his world.

“Alexandria,” Duke Renald said, his voice lacking warmth. “Sit. We need to discuss matters of the Duchy.”

She stepped forward and took her seat across from him, the weight of the room pressing on her shoulders. The grand study was a fitting reflection of her marriage: cold, imposing, and impersonal. She wasn’t just his wife — she was a symbol, a fixture in the house, another line on the family tree.

“I’ve been waiting for you to speak to me about the Duchy’s affairs,” she replied, her voice cool but steady. “But it seems this is more of a formality than anything else, isn’t it?”

A flicker of something — annoyance, perhaps, or surprise — passed through his eyes, but Renald did not let it show. “You might be right,” he said, the words clipped. “However, there are things that must be handled, and I need you to do your part.”

Alexandria’s fingers tightened around the armrest, the only outward sign of her frustration. This was the life she had been forced into — a life of politeness and duties, with no room for warmth or affection. But in her heart, there was a fire that refused to die. She would not let her fate be sealed by a marriage of convenience. Not when there was so much more for her to claim.

Her sword — the one constant in this tumultuous journey — would guide her through the court's politics, through the intrigues and whispers. And if she could not carve out a place of her own in this world as the Duchess of Lethian, then she would forge a path of her own.

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