when camillia woke up as a fictional character yesterday, she was sure she had gone mad. how could a sixteen year old struggling high schooler suddenly wake up in a noble lady's body? the situation was so comically similar to all those novels and webtoons she had obssessed over and it just made her feel more crazy.

perhaps she was actually still in her room but because of some mental sickness her brain was tricked into thinking she was in a whole new dimension? she didn't know. her fultile attempts to slap herself got her supposedly lifelong maid worry as she scolded her,

"miss, i know you are still recovering but don't harm yourself ! a beautiful lady such as you shouldn't have any scars you know !"

camillia didn't know how her weak attempt of a slap would even scar but she just sighed in defeat and sent out her maid. the reality was too harsh to accept, and her mind felt as if she was gonna break down any moment.

now, she was the the future lady vestia, in line for the title of the count, the only daughter of her father and sick mother with a older brother, the young master.

heck, she couldn't even remember her past life ! the only thing she remembers is her being a normal teenager in the twenty first century. camillia didn't remember if she had any family members, what she was like, what her name was, only few fragments of her daily life, like the bus ride to her school or reading webnovels after failing her test to feel a better.

her last memories were so hazy but she knew that she died young. the feeling of death looming was also not forgotten. camillia was firm in her resolution now that she had gotten another chance to live by the unknown , she'd make the most of it.

after her older brother succeeds the title of count, she would go live in a peaceful villa in a small town and open a small flower shop for leisure. of course, she tried her best to remember anything she could about her past self but she only felt a dull pain in the back of her head when she tried to get back her memories.

perhaps, this unfamiliar and unknown source responsible for her transmigration didn't want her to remember her past self and attempt to return to her original life. if camillia knew she had a loving family and friends, would she not have tried to commit suicide in hopes that she could return to her former life?

if there is a person behind this, you must be smart, she thought.

atleast she wasn't poor here. although not on par with other nobles, she was the only daughter of a lowly baron. in terms of aristocratic heirarchy, her family wasn't powerful but it was better than being born as a commoner or worse, a beggar or a slave.

as soon as news of his beloved daughter waking up reached count vestia, he hurried to meet her. who would've thought that her father was so doting and caring? her older brother too, a royal knight, came to visit her later crushing her frail body with his arms crying about how happy he was to see her healthier.

seeing them, camillia felt a warm sensation in her heart, they felt like family. were these the feelings of the previous owner of this body? camillia wished that back in her actual world, she too had a family who cherished her as much as the count and his son did.

" mary, i wish to take a walk outside. "

the mannerisms and the noble etiquette were drilled quite well in this lady's mind because her posture and words were graceful, fitting of the daughter of a count. thank god, or camillia would've ended up saying something like " i wanna go out. " she could imagine mary being absolutely horrified by her "brash" choice of words.

" miss, is your body fine? the doctor said you need bed res- "

sighing, camillia got out her bed struggling a little, with her frail and sick body. mary shrieked in surprise and helped her whilst also grabbing a big warm scarf for her.

" miss, this was the young master's present for you when you embroidered him a hankercheif, i'm not sure if you remember! please wear it, it's quite chilly. "

nodding, she took the warm scarf and put it around her.

the only person who knew of her memory loss was mary, camillia had instructed her to not let anybody know. mary had been quite helpful in helping her learn more about her old body's owner. if the count and brother found out, it would cause them unnecessary worries.

stepping out her room, two maids bowed at her and camillia gave them the best smile she could. it felt weird to have these people treat her like a superior and wasn't just yet comfortable to be even called the young miss.

autumn was in full swing and the garden was exceptionally beautiful. nothing less expected from a noble household. of course, money, power and connections were the foundations of the aristocracy of the demetia empire.

if only the estate and the household of a count was this beautiful and grand, camillia thinks, just how majestic would the royal palace be? this stuff was truly unimaginable in modern times.

sitting near a marble fountain, she signalled mary to go back because she wished to be left alone. her mind had still not fully grasped the situation yet.

hesitantly, the maid went back stealing worried glances at her young miss. she hoped that camillia would recover her memories soon and marry a good man who will be be to treat her little miss right.

camillia looked beautiful in the gloomy afternoon sitting beside the marble sculpture of a beautiful woman playing the harp and gazing at the fountain. was this all just a hallucination, a figment of her imagination? she was not quite sure, everything felt too real.

a strange feeling washed over her and she felt drawn to the beautiful sparkling fountain. the need to jump in was within her heart. though small, the fountain was built in the middle of a very small pond. but this pond was large and deep enough to probably be able to drown a average grown man atleast. if the other's hadn't called this a pond, she would've thought that it was actually a lake.

too bad, as camillia leaned towards the fountain, she was pulled in involuntarily, as if being pulled inside by a unknown force, and only then did she realise that she was but a little fragile young miss, as if made of china, ready to break at the slightest touch.