webnovel

How to re-write the Evil Stepmother

As she walked back to her room, her mind raced. "Oh no. I'm inside a novel. This novel," she thought, panic bubbling beneath her composed exterior. She was living in the world of the book she had been so engrossed in, reincarnated as the character everyone loved to hate. Determined to survive and rewrite her fate, Amelia resolved to navigate this treacherous new world with care. She would use her knowledge of the novel to her advantage, starting with maintaining her new persona as the overly friendly, reformed stepmother. And perhaps, just perhaps, she might even find a way to win the cold duke's heart.

BananaPeel_Group · History
Not enough ratings
71 Chs

Chapter Three – A New Dawn

Amelia awoke to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the window. Stretching languidly, she relished the rare sensation of a good night's rest. But as she stirred, her tranquility was shattered by the sudden intrusion of a maid bustling into the room.

The maid gasped in surprise at the sight of Amelia awake. "My lady, I beg your pardon! I did not mean to startle you," she stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Amelia waved off her apologies with a gracious smile. "No harm done, my dear. What is it that you need?"

The maid curtsied nervously. "I am here to assist you in preparing for the day, my lady. If you would be so kind as to allow me..."

Amelia hesitated, unused to being tended to in such a manner. But she knew that in her new role as duchess, she would have to acclimate to such customs. With a nod, she granted the maid permission to proceed.

And so began a series of awkward and unfamiliar moments as the maid helped her bathe and dress.

The maid, a petite blonde, busied herself with the tea service. "Shall I draw your bath, Your Grace?"

"Yes, thank you," Amelia replied, her mind racing. She had never been attended to like this. As the maid prepared the bath, Amelia's eyes wandered around the lavish room, noting the expensive tapestries, the intricately carved furniture, and the enormous canopy bed. Everything screamed wealth and power.

The bath was ready, and the maid helped Amelia undress, leading to several awkward moments. Amelia had never had someone else wash her, and she struggled to relax. The maid was efficient and thorough, scrubbing and rinsing with practiced hands.

Once clean, Amelia was wrapped in a soft robe and led to a dressing room. Here, another maid awaited, holding a corset. Amelia's eyes widened. She had never worn one before, and the sight was intimidating.

"Your Grace, if you could lift your arms?" the maid requested.

Amelia complied, and the maid began the process of fitting the corset. It was tighter than anything she had ever worn, squeezing her waist and making it difficult to breathe. She felt like a sausage being stuffed into a too-small casing. The maid pulled the laces with expert precision, and Amelia winced as the corset constricted around her torso.

"How do people wear these things?" Amelia muttered under her breath, earning a puzzled glance from the maid.

It was the first time Amelia had ever worn a corset, the tightness of it a constant reminder of her restricted movements. But she endured, determined to embrace the role thrust upon her.

Finally, they reached the part of the process that Amelia dreaded the most—the selection of dresses. The maid, a young blonde named Roana, pushed open the wardrobe doors, revealing an array of luxurious gowns in every color of the rainbow.

As Amelia surveyed the dresses, she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. In her previous life, she had never been one for extravagant attire. But now, as the duchess of Rosewood, she was expected to dress the part.

Roana observed her mistress's hesitation, a frown marring her features. In a moment of vulnerability, she allowed herself to drift back to memories of the duchess's usual demeanor—cold and demanding, with a penchant for lavishness and opulence. The duchess was always stern, with no room for mistakes or hesitation.

But today was different. Today, the duchess seemed... softer somehow. The usual trembling of hands had vanished, replaced by a quiet determination.

With a gentle nudge, Roana guided Amelia through the selection process. She chose three dresses in various shades, each more exquisite than the last. The first was a delicate shade of rose, adorned with intricate lace and pearls. The second was a deep sapphire blue, reminiscent of the evening sky. And the third was a pristine white, adorned with golden accents that shimmered in the light.

Once the dresses were chosen, another maid entered the room bearing trays of jewelry. Amelia chose a simple set of blue sapphire earrings and necklace to complement the blue dress. The jewels were elegant yet understated, befitting her newfound sense of grace and poise.

As the final touches were applied, Roana brought a mirror for Amelia to inspect her reflection. The sight that greeted her took her breath away—a vision of beauty and elegance that she had never known before. The butterfly-shaped golden hair clip sparkled in the sunlight, while the diamonds and sapphires of her earrings and necklace caught the light with every movement.

She stood there, transfixed by her own reflection, a sense of awe washing over her. For the first time in her life, she felt truly beautiful.