Victoria Jia pulled the covers over her head in a pathetic attempt to forget about the upcoming assessments she had.
If only there was a way to jump time. To the past, or future, or even to an alternate timeline would be perfect right now. Just anything to avoid the exam period next term.
Her friend and classmate she had known from primary school, who liked to call herself Coco, prefered to dream about becoming a CEO one day. She had it easy, because she just chose not to face the reality that they were in.
What was it she said again? Cross the bridge when you come to it? But these are our exams. Is she stupid? She talks a lot about being independent in the future and not getting married, but if she's expecting that failing exams is ok, then there isn't really much she could do. There isn't really much I could do, either, if I failed. Why am I even worrying about this? Tomorrow is my 16th birthday. I'll be a somewhat adult legally - I mean, I can drive a car, I guess, and I can do most things.
She let her thoughts lull her slowly to sleep. When she opened her eyes, she immediately could smell pancakes. Victoria sat up and immediately realised that she was in a totally different bedroom. The walls were a cream white, but they also had intricate gold-leaf floral patterns that spread across walls and ceilings. The carpet was a light beige. Her room was simply a white box with a wooden floor and a window. The window of this room had an intricate golden frame with opaque curtains.
As ideas of the worst flooded through her mind, a woman wearing a dark green, plain gown with a frilly apron entered the room.
"Miss Abigail! You are awake! It is time to get up! Your carriage is waiting for you!"
There was something oddly familiar about the way her slim eyes twinkled in the sunlight and creased at the ends as her wholesome smile filled her face. Her hair was ash grey, with streaks of white through it, giving away her age. Although she wouldn't have been old enough to have permanent crease lines on her forehead, this seemed to be the case. And as suddenly as she recognised this woman's smile to be one that her mother would usually have on her face, memories that weren't her own flooded through her head. She was a girl called Abigail Harrison, the daughter of agricultural tycoon Jayson Harrison and textiles tycoon Cindy Walker. It was her seventeenth birthday today, and her younger sister of a year, Coco, had prepared a surprise for her. Her younger brother, Tyler, was about eight this year, and he had also helped with the setting up of the dining room in preparation for this significant day.
Coco. As in my friend Coco? Surely not….?
According to the memories of Coco from her own mind and that of the Coco Abigail knew of, there were many similarities - they were both extremely stubborn, hot-headed and disagreeable at times, but they also ultimately strived to become powerful tycoons and were both extremely loyal and caring once they trusted the people around them. While her friend enjoyed running and dreamt about shooting and archery, Abigail's sister Coco was able to embrace and hone her skills of using a rifle and bow to her hearts' content, as well as juggling sword fighting.
Abigail was a quaint girl, and also shared Victoria's liking for reading romance novels as well as being trilingual. Abigail also was on top of all the modern fashion trends, which to Victoria's surprise - consisted of lolita-style dresses as well. There weren't pants in sight that Abigail had ever worn in her memories, and Victoria started to question this. Her surroundings, her new memories...she touched her long, brown curls, which would have usually been straight, black hair. Was it really possible that her wishing had caused her to actually be transported into another dimension where she wouldn't have to do her school exams? Surely not. This must be some sort of lucid dream...right? In a way she hoped it wasn't, but then again, she had to be honest to herself. She really, really, didn't want to complete any exams. But she knew she'd miss her family sooner or later.
She slipped out of bed and tottered towards the mirror. Her eyes were now a light hue of golden and her eyelashes seemed to be double the length they used to be. She followed the woman, who was her governess, down to the dining room. She recollected that Abigail's parents, who were now her parents, were constantly out on business ventures, out of the continent. Her father, Jayden Harrison, exported and imported agricultural goods, and thus also owned and operated hundreds of sectors relating to farming and agriculture as a result. Her mother, Cindy Walker, was the eldest daughter to a textiles dynasty, and her mothers' family also exported and imported fabrics, clothes and designs internationally, making a tidy profit. In Victoria's eyes, Abigail was the perfect child in the most ideal settings.
Coco slid into the seat next to her as she slid fresh pancakes onto her plate.
"So, are you ready?", she swooned. It struck Victoria as to how much she sounded like her friend Coco from her previous life. Actually, they sounded exactly the same. Exempting the maroon hair and her dark red eyes, she realised that the Coco now that was her sister was basically a spitting image. She had always wanted to have her hair slightly shorter than a bob cut, but her father never allowed it. The Coco in this life seemed to suit the look. Her friend was onto something. Her eyes were slightly wider, but tilted at the ends, giving her a more masculine look compared to the Coco that she had known.
Coco turned back to her own pancakes and made a point of using her cutlery as loudly as possible - making Victoria cringe. Coco stared at her breakfast and her brows furrowed as her voice snapped into a more serious and almost business-like tone.
"I can't believe this. You're getting married off and you don't care?"
"I-it's not like that-", Victoria retorted.
"You're being fooled by your romance books. You know, we could have done things together - you could have been in charge of textiles, Tyler agriculture, and I would have been able to branch out to arms manufacturing. But, no, that's fine."
"Coco, he's the richest man in the country."
"His family is the richest in the country, yes, but there's no guarantee about him. I heard that he's as useless as ever. I even saw him once in public and he didn't make way for me in the street. He didn't even say hello of acknowledge me. "
Coco looked up at Abigail, her eyes burning with an underlying rage that she had never understood, even in her previous life as Victoria and they were close friends.
"It was my right of way, Abigail. There's no excuse for something as little as that. And then what? He has control over basically all textiles and agriculture ever. And what does he give? NOTHING. I can't believe this. Are you stupid? If you can't even see that he's a bad husband, there's no hope for you"
For a second, Abigail was taken back to when she was still Victoria, wishing for her tests, but her overwhelming need for her sisters' validation caused her to simply brush those memories of a lifetime under the rug and pick up where the Abigail before her had left off.
"Just because he didn't see you?"
"What? How dare he. I hate him. I don't want to turn up to the wedding. I have a shooting competition anyway. Don't get me wrong, it's important that you're getting married, but if my to-be brother-in-law won't acknowledge me then I won't acknowledge him."
"Wait. Is this because you hate his cousin? What's his name? Roark?"
"W-what?"
Coco's voice cracked. Abigail smirked. As expected, her father and her father-in-law had been able to tie Coco and Tyler into the family: Coco to Abigail's to-be husbands' cousin, and Tyler to his little sister. While Coco's prospective husband seemed to very gifted in horse-riding and academia, the one time that Coco had met him, she had discovered that their views on life intersected like two parallel lines and she had immediately dismissed him as he had done to her. And there was also the fact that he was more skilled than her at the sword.
"W-well-yes. You know what? Yes. I am going to admit my bias here. He's like a conniving merchant, you hear? I swear that one of us is going to end up at the bottom of the sea - and I heard so he can't swim - but I can - so there."
She let out a quiet sigh.
"I'm going to miss you."
"I know"
Abigail pulled her sister into a tight embrace.
"Oh, where's Tyler?"
"Still sleeping"
Tyler had managed to wave Abigail off with Coco as she slipped into the carriage. As they set off on their way, Abigail reflected on her future husband. She was on the way to the capital, which is where they were to be wed. There was one opportunity where they were to meet, but that was four years ago - she had caught a fever so Coco and Tyler were able to meet their prospective spouses. It was a bit odd for the four year old Tyler to meet a one year old baby, but in this world arranged marriages were all basically determined by birth - and non-negotiable. It wasn't really a meeting for those being arranged - rather the parents and the families to determine terms and agreements. To their mothers' dismay, the twelve year old Coco had ended up punching an eighteen year old Roark square in the jaw. And the fifteen year old Henry was left to stand alone as the thirteen year old Abigail lay bed-stricken.
According to Coco, Roark had 'depressing black hair' and 'dreary, empty white eyes - like a fish that's dead', and he wasn't really open to the idea of conversing and was in his own world half of the time. At first Coco had laughed out loud at the party because she thought she had avoided the shorter end of the stick, but as soon as her father had introduced her to Roark, she had apparently screeched about him being an adult and that this was somehow illegal. Abigail chuckled as memory of a thirteen year old Coco ranting to her as she lay sick in bed about their future spouses filled her mind. Her sister Coco was basically her friend Coco, but in this life. For sure. She did have a point though. A six year age difference would probably be fine if they were in their thirties, or even twenties, but for her to marry next year to a twenty-three year old Roark was hands down questionable. Henry was nineteen. Questionable, but much less so.
Her eyes grew heavy as she tried to imagine Henry. He was also supposedly smart, but much more active and involved in business and matters of money than Roark. And Coco had said that he was also tall. She couldn't help but smile. The perfect pedigree, the perfect husband, the perfect life...there was nothing else that could make her life more perfect than it already was.