Vela's unsteady hands tore away the gauze from her eyes, and a wave of dread hit her at the disquieting realization that her expectations were not met.
"Oh my days," she exhaled heavily, her energy sapped away.
Before Vela could drift away into a blissful sleep, a sudden voice pierced through the silence of the room, causing her to recoil and curl into the comfort of her bed sheets.
She grabbed hold of one of the downy pillows and pressed it against her ears, wishing for an escape from the reality of living in the past.
"The fact that there are no phones is depressing," Vela lamented from beneath the sheets.
She held her breath for a moment before reopening her eyes, the memory of her death now etched deeply in her mind. "All my savings," Vela cringed.
"Miss, you need to wake up, or I will be punished," the maid cried out.
Vela brushed the pillow aside and sat up.
The maid had dark auburn twin braids that hung right above her waist, freckles dotting her porcelain face illuminated by warm brown eyes that sparkled once they saw Vela emerge from underneath the sheets.
"What says the time?" Vela mumbled lethargically, still trying to shake off the grogginess from sleep.
"It's six in the morning, Miss," Olivia chirped cheerfully as she glanced at the clock.
Vela rolled over in irritation while silent screams echoed within her mind like an animal desperate for freedom before sinking back into the pillows and resigning herself to reality;
"Miss, are you okay?, you have been unconscious for two weeks" Olivia asked cautiously as she noted Vela's distress.
"two weeks?!" Vela buried her face into the bed sheets. She yearned for nothing more than to sink deep into the mattress and drift away.
'Sleep', these words repeated in Vela's head over and over again as she walked over to the dressing table.
She glanced around, taking a deep breath,
"This is tiring" Vela mumbled as she sat, resting her full body on the table.
"Hey… what is your name?" Vela queried through the vanity mirror, watching Olivia fuss over her hair.
"Olivia," Olivia replied cheerfully, picking up another brush to style Vela's hair.
"No last name?" Vela continued her questioning, arching a brow skeptically.
"Commoners aren't entitled to bear any last names,miss"
Olivia responded perkily, without a hint of bitterness or envy in her voice.
"So you are satisfied with being a simple servant?" Vela glanced up at her seriously, trying to gauge if she harbored any resentment toward her position as the daughter of a duke.
"Well, I like my life the way it is... sometimes," Olivia answered thoughtfully, her eyes glinting with hidden hope and desire.
"Sorry?" Vela asked confusedly.
"Oh no worries! What I mean is that I dream of wearing the finest jewelry and gorgeous gowns without ever having to worry about political assassinations or not getting to marry who I love due to arranged marriages,"
she exclaimed passionately with an infectious smile on her face.
"I could never risk death from the murderous lady of the duchy—the crown prince is too handsome," Olivia voiced bravely.
"murderous lady?" Vela questioned, as she slowly remembered the character of the person she had inhabited.
Dead silence descended over the room as Olivia realized the psychopathic lady she spoke about was sitting just before her.
Her heart palpitated wildly, and her throat constricted in terror as she contemplated what fate awaited her.
With a sickening thud, Olivia's head collided with the floor in a dramatic gesture of submission as she suddenly dropped to her knees.
"Please pardon me, miss. I exceeded my boundaries by talking without permission," She pled while sobbing loudly.
"Was that your head?" Vela rose from her chair and sauntered towards Olivia with an impenetrable expression.
"Huh?" She gasped in confusion, simultaneously penning her last letter to her family in her mind.
"are you really fine?" Vela queried
"Yes! I'll slam my head till you are satisfied," Olivia replied desperately, her body starting to tremble, would she be killed off to?.
"what's with the over-exaggerated display?" Vela pondered as she stared at Olivia.
"This is going nowhere," Vela spun around and began striding away, leaving Olivia feeling relieved.
"had it been the old vela, would Olivia have been killed for a statement?" Vela thought
"Bring me a simple dress immediately," Vela sighed with vexation. Who would have guessed people would be so frightened by her reputation?
"miss?" Olivia gaped at Vela through tear-filled eyes.
"You're not in trouble," Vela said as she resumed her seat and rested her head on the table, still trying to make sense of what had happened after she hit her on this table.
"Thank you, Miss !!," Olivia quickly stood up and marched towards the wardrobe with a smile across her face.
"Were all those Vela's memories?" Vela looked up at the ceiling as she softly ran her pale fingers over her neck, struggling to piece together the puzzle of the strange visions she had experienced.
Her memory of Vela's birth was the most vivid among them, but nothing else seemed to make sense.
The phenomenon of transmigration was rarely recorded throughout Actaeon's history, and it has never occurred except the "The Great Reaping", where a man claimed he suddenly woke up with memories of a life he had lived in the future.
He predicted a massive storm that would hit Actaeon in 50 years because he claimed he transmigrated from the future. Some people believed and thought of this as foresight; some thought of it as deception, whereas he would use mana to manipulate the weather.
Nonetheless, on that fateful day, the mana storm did materialize, nearly decimating hundreds of thousands of people. Surprisingly, there were no signs of mana manipulation leaving the population deeply divided, with conflicting theories and questions persisting for generations as the mysterious man was also found dead.
The prevailing narrative that endured over time was that the heavens required souls, and the true purpose of this phenomenon remained a mystery.
Olivia rummaged through the closet for proper clothes when she heard Vela's voice calling out from behind.
"What year is it?" Vela asked.
"Uh.. 1578"Olivia answered absentmindedly as she carried out her task,
"1578" Vela repeated after.
Vela felt an immense wave of relief wash over her upon hearing Olivia's response; The Great Reaping had already come and gone millenniums ago.
Olivia stepped away from the wardrobe with an impressive rack of clothes cascading from her hands.
"Your gowns are here, Miss." As if to punctuate her statement, Olivia let a flutter of fabric pour down upon Vela's bedroom carpet. The gowns crackled as they embraced the floor.
"The hell?"
Vela gasped as she took in the veritable ocean of material spread before her. Exquisitely embroidered dresses, with enormous bows and heavy bejeweled ornaments, weighed upon them like anchors. They seemed too flashy for their own good and far too ostentatious for her simple life.
"Take away all the bows and remove those jewels, or even better, burn them," Vela spoke in disgust. She wanted something modest and unassuming but instead was faced with a floor of armored gowns.
Olivia didn't say anything; she considered these outfits to be the gorgeous items in all of Zestria.
"Please, give me something simple," Vela begged Olivia, but looking at all the dresses Olivia presented her with, it was obvious that she hadn't comprehended the meaning of simple.
Vela rose from her chair with a quiet creaking of floorboards. She stepped towards the large wardrobe and opened its doors, revealing a myriad of trinkets and artifacts that this body had collected over the years.
Tucked away between a pile of blankets was a small black box with the Kaylon crest embossed on top; she hesitated momentarily before bringing it out and placing it on the floor.
Olivia peered curiously over Vela's shoulder as the bow was untied and the lid lifted off.
A beautiful white sailor dress with a small blue bow that matched the colour of her eyes lay nestled amongst other dresses within the box.
Tucked in the folds of fabric was a small piece of paper.
"We found Mom's old dresses, hope you will like it. Happy Birthday, Vela." the paper read.
The dress was simple yet elegant, softly glowing in sunlight that shone through the windows, its intricate lace detailing captivating Vela's heart.
With barely a thought, Vela dashed into the bathroom to try on her new dress, excitement coursing through her veins.
A few moments later, Vela emerged from the hazy bathroom wearing nothing but a white towel draped around her chest.
"Breakfast is here!"
The door swung open, and a butler walked in with a cart covered in a silver cloche.
"How dare you?" Olivia shouted, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the butler.
He glanced at her and then turned to leave, but before he could make it out the door, Olivia gasped in shock as she opened the cloche.
"Stop right there!" Vela commanded.
He froze a few inches away from the entrance, and Vela asked him sternly, "What is your name?"
"Miss...?" He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder.
Vela scowled; she couldn't believe even servants would behave so poorly that they'd ignore her orders twice.
"Are you now deaf that I have to repeat myself?" Her temper flared, but before things could get out of hand, he answered fumblingly:
"It's Lance, miss."
"Just Lance, then?" Vela sneered as she questioned him further. Her eyes glinted dangerously as she added,
"Do you think you're higher than the Kaylon family after barging into my room? Another mistake on Father's part?"
The butler dropped to his knees and started wiping sweat from his forehead with his clothes. Sensing his fear, Vela laughed coldly and said:
"Don't worry—the only mistake you will ever remember is working for our family" With an air of superiority,
Vela reclined back into her chair, loving this thrilling situation that felt like it had been taken straight from one of her favorite novels.
"i will give you less than a second to leave my room" Vela glared at him, crossing her legs.
The butler darted towards the cart, ready to take it away, but Vela interjected.
"No, leave it be…" she commanded as an idea crossed her mind.
"Miss!" Olivia gasped in surprise and concern as she locked eyes with Vela.
Vela simply stared back until Olivia hung her head in submission.
The butler scuttled away in haste, leaving Vela to erupt into hysterical laughter at her display of authority.
Olivia smiled hesitantly, unsure if the situation had amused or terrified her.
Olivia gingerly lifted the cloche, and a sickening stench penetrated every corner of her being. Her body recoiled at the sight before her
"But miss!, you can't…." Olivia shouted, her tone laden with disdain.
"My orders are final," Vela interrupted Olivia, casting a sympathetic glance her way. Empathy emanated from her eyes as she pitied body she now inhabited. It was evident that without the Duke's attention and care, this frail frame would face mistreatment. Sometimes, a slight build spoke volumes.
"Olivia, my dress?" Vela outstretched her hand, and Olivia dutifully handed it over to her. As soon as Vela put it on, it fit like a glove, with a small grin.
"Olivia, push the cart," Vela said adjusting the hems of her gowns.
"Where to miss?" inquired Olivia.
"Where else? To Father's office," Vela whispered, attempting to veil a sense of dread that had settled within her soul.
"you do know his office, right?" She gave a curious glance towards Olivia.
"Yes, Miss", Olivia acknowledged before wheeling the cart ahead of them.
"Let's go set things straight," Vela declared determinedly under her breath.