4 : Villainess
"Miss, wake up. You still need to visit the King and the Queen today."
I was startled awake by a girl dressed in a maid uniform. Miss? King and Queen? But Lena and I didn't have a maid.
"Shut up! Get the hell out of my room," I unconsciously yelled, tossing a pillow at the maid.
As soon as the words left my mouth, I jolted upright in bed, realizing my mistake. Glancing at the maid, who now had tears in her eyes and continued to bow her head.
Confused and alarmed by my own behavior, I couldn't comprehend why I was saying and doing things that felt completely out of character. It was as if I had lost control of my own body, with my words and actions taking on a life of their own, beyond my conscious will.
It felt as though I was merely a spectator in my own body, unable to control my actions or the venomous words spewing from my mouth.
Despite my lack of conscious intention, I found myself uttering words of disdain towards the maid as she began to cry. "Aw, she's crying now. Poor you."
As if controlled by some external force, my body moved on it's own, stepping out of bed and reaching out to grab the maid's hair. "Get the hell out of here! You're a useless maid! Get lost!" I heard myself saying harsh words and even resorting to physical aggression by kicking her arms.
The maid quickly breaks free from my grip and flees the room in tears. Although I want to chase after her and apologize, my body seems to have a mind of its own, guiding me to the mirror instead. As I stare at my reflection, a twisted smile creeps onto my lips. I didn't intend to lash out like that. I want to express my apologies, but my words remain trapped, and my gaze remains fixed on the indifferent image staring back at me.
The words "Useless maid!" slip from my mouth as if they have a life of their own, while my hand grab a hairbrush to tidy up my purple hair.
Suddenly, I pause, shocked by the sight of my reflection. Staring back at me is a round-faced child with vivid purple eyes and curly locks of purple hair, appearing to be around nine or ten years old.
"This can't be real!" I exclaimed, unable to believe the sight before me in the mirror. Hastily, I extended my hand to touch the reflection, needing confirmation that it was indeed my own. I ran my fingers over my face and arms, processing the reality of the situation. "Is this really me? It can't be!" I even resorted to pinching myself, hoping desperately that it was just a figment of my imagination, but to no avail.
As I stared back at my reflection, a frown formed on my face. Why had I suddenly become a child? How did I become this person? The last thing I remember was working on the first half of the novel, "King, are you gay?" And now I wake up to this?
"Could this be time travel? No, that's impossible! I didn't experience any accidents or extraordinary events like being hit by a truck or falling into water. So how did this happen? How on earth did I end up like this?" I exclaimed in frustration, raking my fingers through my hair.
"Perhaps, this is all just a dream. Yes, it must be a dream. HAHAHA! Time travel is impossible, isn't it? There's no way it's real."
I examined my arm and repeatedly pinched myself, causing it to bleed. "This is not a dream. Oh my goodness! It's really happening. What should I do now?"
I paced back and forth, feeling overwhelmed, before finally slumping myself on the floor and bursting into tears. "This is not a dream. So, the reason why I feel like I have no control over my actions is because of time travel? But it doesn't make any sense. Why is it that the female leads in novels can do whatever they want, but I can't? Ahh, this is driving me crazy." I knocked my head against the bedpost. "I just want to go back home."
"Wait, Ysavel, let's take a moment to calm down." I drew in a few deep breaths before scanning the room I found myself in upon waking up. "Let's try to stay calm and search for clues. Perhaps I'll I'll find a clue about where I am and who I am."
I approached the study table and began searching through the items on the table. Among them, I discovered a photograph showing two children: a girl and a boy. The girl bore a striking resemblance to the reflection in the mirror, but I couldn't recall where or when I had seen the boy before.
Lost in thought, I was startled by a knock on the door, interrupting my musings. "Miss, the Count requests your presence. He wishes for you to join him for the meal," a voice from outside informed me.
Before I can respond, my mouth betrays me and blurts out words without my consent. "I already said I'll be down in a minute! Can't you just leave me alone? Ugh, why are these maids so incompetent?"
Horrified, I quickly cover my mouth, questioning why those words escaped me. "What just happened? I didn't mean to say that. Why did it come out of my mouth?"
I slump my head on the table, frustration evident in my voice. "You've got to be kidding me! So, I time travel, and now I don't even have full control of my own body? This is incredibly unfair!" I run my fingers through my hair, trying to calm myself down.
Curiosity piques as I wonder about the maid's message. "What did the maid say? The count? Who is this count? Perhaps I should meet him first." Determined, I stand up and search for a change of clothes. To my surprise, all I find are elegant dresses, exuding opulence and expense. "Where am I? Have I been transported to the medieval period? Am I now a princess?"
Not being particularly fond of dresses, I opt for the simplest one I can find, preferring a more understated look. The majority of the dresses are extravagant and flamboyant, as if the owner frequents royal parties.
After changing into the dress, I glanced at the mirror and couldn't help but smile. "Not bad at all. This outfit really complements my appearance. The dress accentuates my purple hair and eyes. I didn't even know it's possible to have purple hair and eyes." Curious, I checked my eyes, half-expecting to find contact lenses, but they were real.
I chided myself for the ridiculous thought. "How could I even think of contact lenses? This is the medieval period, after all. Where would people even get contact lenses?" I shook my head in disbelief and returned my attention to the mirror.
"I believe it's time to meet the count. But what should I do once I meet him? Should I curtsy? Why can't I access the memories of the original owner of this body? Time traveling is so unfair! Well, I'll have to figure it out as I go."
As I leave the room, I'm greeted by the same maid who woke me up earlier. Her head is bowed, and her hands are trembling. She appears to be only a few years older than me. She's probably only five years older than I.
"What are you doing there? Get out of my sight. I have no desire to lay eyes on you." And once more, my mouth moves involuntarily. And just as inexplicably, my feet carry me to a room occupied by two individuals. It resembles a dining room. In it, there is a man who seems to be in his early thirties, and a woman of a similar age, I presume.
The woman smiled warmly and reached out to me. "My dear, you look beautiful in that dress. It complements your eyes and hair perfectly." She hugged me and gestured for me to sit beside her.
I returned her smile. "Thank you, Mother. It must run in the family," my mouth responded involuntarily, and my gaze shifted to the man. "Good morning, Father."
The man my mouth referred to as Father simply smiled at me before returning to his meal. Father? Was he really my father? I glanced at the woman beside me, who was now pouring tea into my cup. She must be my mother. But if she's my mother, then who is the Count?
"Are you feeling alright, dear? Drink your tea now. I made it especially for you because I know how much you enjoy it in the morning," my mother said, reaching out to touch my hair affectionately before resuming her meal. She continued to ask me questions throughout breakfast, but my mind couldn't shake off the confusion and questions swirling inside.
Through our conversations, I came to realize that the man I referred to as "Dad" was, in fact, the Count. Today, we were headed to visit the King and Queen for a specific purpose, although I still don't know what's the reason is.
After our morning meal, we promptly made our way to the palace, a journey that takes about fifteen minutes by carriage, equivalent to a five-minute drive in modern terms.
Entering the carriage felt like stepping into a royal realm; its grandeur was evident, with ample space to accommodate several individuals comfortably. The interior design exuded opulence and uniqueness, adding to the sense of regality.
"My dear, are you nervous?" My mother asked as we approached the palace grounds, ready to enter the main palace building.
My head shook on its own. "I'm not. I'm actually excited to meet His Majesty and Her Majesty," my mouth replied.
I'm starting to become accustomed to the way my mouth speaks without my consent. At least this body is polite and respectful when interacting with her parents. However, I remain concerned about how she treated her maid and others.
As the carriage came to a stop in front of the palace, resembling those ancient palaces you see in pictures, a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere to open the door for us. He was dressed in a very formal suit, resembling butlers in movies or manhua, and assisted us as we stepped out of the carriage.
"Count, Countess, and Miss. Welcome to the palace," the man greeted, bowing his head respectfully. Several women dressed in maid's outfits approached us, also bowing and offering their greetings. "The King and the Queen are waiting for all of you. Please follow me." With that, the man led us inside the palace and into a large room, resembling a modern-day reception area, but on a much grander scale.
"Greetings, your majesty. The count and countess have arrived with their daughter," the man announced as we entered the room.
A gracious couple welcomed us: the King and his Queen. The King gestured for the attendant to leave, and the attendant promptly exited the room. My parents immediately bowed their heads and performed a slight curtsy. Without my conscious control, my body followed suit, mimicking my parents' actions.
A real Queen and King? It seemed surreal. I was thrilled to see actual royalty in person. Both of them exuded regality, resembling the portrayals of monarchs in art. Even though they were merely seated, their presence emitted an unmistakable aura of royalty.
The King smiled warmly and gestured for us to take our seats. I followed my parents' lead and sat down. As the King engaged in conversation with my father, my mother began chatting with the Queen. Since it would be impolite for a child to interject, I remained seated, silently admiring the regal presence of the Queen and King.
The Queen noticed my gaze and offered me a kind smile. "Csille, you've grown into such a beautiful young lady. It's been quite some time since I last saw you. That dress suits you perfectly."
My mouth responded with a polite smile, and words seemed to spill out on their own. "Thank you, your majesty. But I still believe that her majesty embodies epitome of beauty."
Both the Queen and my mother chuckled at my remark. "Your majesty, I must concur with my daughter. Your beauty surpasses all others in the Kingdom of Vrawyth.""
"Countess, you flatter me," the Queen replied, smiling warmly at me and taking my hand. "I'm certain Prince Fraser will be delighted to see you, Csille Lauretré."
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. Prince Fraser? Csille Lauretré? Suddenly, everything clicked into place. The reflection in the mirror, the picture on the table of the two children—it was Prince Fraser and Csille. The realization dawned on me with terrifying clarity: had I become the villainess of my own story?
