Now that I'm actively trying to do it, remembering things that is, I'm finding out that it is an activity that proves to be a challenge in this body.
As my recent revelation has proven, I'm being slowly but surely influenced and integrated into this world thanks to the body-hopping, so I'm going to have to try my darnest best to remember anything and everything important to me before I lose more to the goddamn time.
So, that means recapping the entire novel plot as I know it at all times Every. Single. Day.
There is this method that I half-remember from some kind of detective show famous overseas about making a memory palace, where you imagine an actual location where you store information and to retrieve it, to simply go through the path often but FUCK THAT! I don't have the time to conjure a whole-ass imaginary place!!
I'm going to imagine the book!
Which yes, it won't make sense to any mind reader out there if they so happen to be reading my brain right now. The story where I got kidnapped into started with a humble beginning as a web novel, like any other stuff, so there's not even a physical copy that I can chuck when the plot holes became outrageous.
So what do I mean by book then?
Well,
Some mad lad out there was very unsatisfied with just scrolling through black words on white pages which leads to them printing the entire first volume, commissioned a proper artist to draw the cover, and bind the damn thing themselves since the corporation won't do it for the fans. Of course, the result gets posted on social media and it gains traction from both the fans (and anti-fans) of the book and the general book readers community as a whole due to how stunning the end product turns out to be.
It was actually the thing that got me to read the dang thing in the first place. Just like a moth to a flame, I got baited in by the beautifully drawn illustration and thought perhaps, it's worth giving a shot and thus, gave reading it a try.
And oh, what a decision it was.
In any case, I'm going to use that self-printed book as the basis of my memory, an anchor if you will, to try and bypass this memory issue.
Anyway, let's start from the beginning.
This story takes place in a nondescript time in a nondescript country that most definitely never existed on Earth, and follows the journey of the main character, Emma.
Emma is the daughter of a small baron, small enough in history and influence that she might as well be a slightly richer commoner. Behaves like one, too, commoner I mean. It was repeatedly emphasized that this noble girl is 'not like other noble girls' in the Empire (which, to be fair, now that I'm living in this world the heroine's behavior does come off as slightly eccentric) and it is the reason why she's so special and why things the plot happens to her.
The plot began when, one day, Emma's closest confidant and best friend (whose name I'm definitely forgetting even though she is the crux of this entire novel oh no) disappeared without leaving even a single word. Just here on one day and gone the next. There was no sign of her running away or struggling, marking the first mystery in Emma's life as she find the urge to get some answers surrounding the event, all while perhaps finding romance along the way.
Thus began the journey of the heroine who ventures into the cruel, unforgiving world in search of her missing friend.
Or at least that's how the beginning played out. In reality, the story took a quick dive into political intrigue meshed with mystery surrounding the petty crimes around the empire and how it all ties to a bigger conspiracy behind it all.
Most of the plot, especially during the first volume that I read, involved Emma going around solving cases (mostly the kidnapping kind) while masquerading as the Male Lead's lover until the moment I most remember, the part where I left off, the terrorist attack on the Empire's capital.
As for why the Male Lead, the second prince of the Empire, took a bum-fuck all baron daughter as his fake lover? That's because of Carlyanne, mostly. Emma would've never crossed paths with the second prince if not for the fact that our girlie got super stalkerish and waved a very big red flag to the guy's face and thus, he employed the most average-looking woman he could find to be his flyswatter, basically.
This cooperation leads them both to chase case after cases, kind of a 'criminal of the week' format as the prince promised his personal help in finding the missing girl until slowly, but very surely because this is a romance tagged novel, the two fell in love while solving crimes along the way.
Overall, very typical yet untypical of a novel. It was also a slow burn. That part was actually good, honestly, very realistic in a way that constant dangers bring people closer together but it takes eff—
"Miss?" Ina's voice comes into the room after softly knocking on the door. I can hear the door opening, though no following footsteps after. "Are you awake yet? Please tell me you're awake, I don't want to wake you up!"
Well. I certainly wish I am still asleep but alas, due to the recent conditioning method called 'following schedule', my body adapts to waking in the early morning at a consistent hour so I can eat my meals and medicines in a reasonable time. Thus, even though I really want to just turn over and sink back into dreamland, it's impossible.
"Hm."
In the end, I get up and succumb to the waking-up routine, though soon the emptiness makes itself very apparent as the missing personnel's figure kept appearing as a phantom at the corner of my eyes.
"How's Sieghart?"
"Oh, him? He's resting well!" Ina's voice is cheerful as she flits around the bed to help me sit and eat. "I swing by his room this morning and he's still sleeping in his bed by then, back side up."
Good. Let the guy sleep in and rest. I know that burn wounds are the worst to deal with while awake. The less you're aware of the itch, the better. "What's for breakfast today?"
"I think Bastian said you'll be having potatoes today, and–"
I start to lose focus again as Ina starts to talk about the dishes that Bastian might be cooking in the kitchen. It's not that important to hear since the menu is fixed thanks to Dr. Keller's orders. I'll either have grain porridge (oh how I miss rice at this moment) or potatoes, accompanied by some bland meat with a minimal amount of fiber in the form of a simple salad. Most of the seasonings are sprinkled minimally despite my repeated protests in order to minimize interference with the medicine but what do I know? If the old doctor secretly wants to torture me then he's certainly succeeding.
However, neither Ina nor I get to finish the routine of one-sided talking as a loud 'bang!' coming from the door takes out all the attention of the room. The doors look as if they're about to fly off the hinges from the force used to open them, revealing an intimidating figure that bursts into the room with wrathful expression and aura.
"Miss! Please don't tell me it's true!!"
The highly flamboyant man with long silky red hair that's somehow fluttering indoors walks faster when his gleaming blue eyes pinpoint my location. I think he even slides to arrive faster and kneels as soon as he reaches the bedside while continuing to wail. "You're not about to replace me, are you?? That's simply a joke right?"
Who the fuck are you!?
No, seriously, who the fuck is this, Carlyanne??! I'm so tempted to hit the temple in case it can jumpstart the memory. Why the fuck is a guy who acts all familiar to you deemed unimportant???!!! Who are you!?
I don't get the chance to ask since 3 more figures enter the room at various speeds and haste. Pointing them from first to last arriving, there's one familiar panic-stricken Sasha, another lady who I also don't know looking equally as terrified as the older maid, and of course, the blond patient who's supposed to be on strict bed rest today, Sieghart.
So that info about him resting is a fucking lie. I turn my glance over to Ina who had boasted about making sure he stayed on the bed, but instead of the usual sheepish expression that people tend to show when their lies get debunked, the girl looks just as surprised as me when she sees Sieghart enters the room.
Then what the fuck is going on?!
Sieghart is doing his best to drag the flamboyant man off the edge of the bed while Winnie, after her own moment of surprise has passed, immediately cooperates by making sure the man's painted and very long nails stop clinging onto the bed sheet covering my oh so scandalous pajama-clad body. "Don't do this sir! You know better than to provoke our miss like this!"
"Provoke!? I would never!" The man huffed, still clinging to the bed sheet with aggrieved eyes (fuck don't pull on it I'm only wearing a thin sleeping gown right now!!) and an even more wronged face, "I'm sure our miss will understand that I mean nothing but to beg for her favor!"
"It is still unbecoming of a man to stroll into a lady's room this early!"
While the argument is going on, I look over the door where Sasha and the other uninvited guests are standing at the side, catching their breath and calming down. The two must've run up the stairs, then. "Who are you?"
Question thrown, the woman wiped the glistening sweat off her dark glittering skin and launch into a deep bow, her bun of curly hair shaking slightly from the motion as her head dipped low. "I am Odilie, miss. Young miss Joanne said you called me to request tailoring a riding suit?"
"Which is a lie!"
The flamboyant man lets go of the bed sheet now that he notices he's not being listened to. "There is no way that our Miss, our goddess of fashion, Lady Carlyanne, will ever sink so low as to request a riding suit from a no-name apprentice such as you!"
Odilie, for her part, doesn't say anything. However, I also clearly see the look of someone who really doesn't want to be here but has to due to obligations and immediately sympathizes. I'm also not thrilled about this either, girl, I feel you.
"Then are you implying that my master and Young Lady Joanne lied?" Ina quips harshly as her eyes shoot daggers at the man, "Are you accusing the nobles of lying, sir Arnold? Is that what I am hearing right now?"
Arnold, now that I have a name to tack to his overtly haughty face, stands up from the floor as he huffs from his nose and throws his hair behind his shoulder in a very villainous-dramatic way. "Now even the servants dare to speak for their masters! The world is collapsing, I see!"
I let out a sigh, internally, while calming myself down from the impending headache from all the shouting going on so close to my ears. The unmistakable rising of rage is building... I have to stop before this situation spiral out of hand like last time!
"She dared because I gave her the right to."
"She is my maid, one of my trusted attendants. She has all the right to be here and defend my honor." Don't get mad, don't snap.. control the rage else the breakfast gets delayed again…! "You, however, have none."
"So, explain yourself. How come you dared barge into my room without permission?"
Arnold blanches (as he fucking should) and takes to the floor again to grovel and hits his forehead on the ground. "M-My apologies miss! I didn't mean to-!"
"Do not make me repeat myself."
I glare at the shivering man, whose teeth clatter so loud that I can't make most of what he's saying, but I do get the gist.
Basically, he is asking for another chance to serve me. Tearfully pleading that I, "Don't throw me away, please! Madame Rosetta showed you no respect by sending this green-behind-the-ears apprentice! She even had the gall to boast about this in my face that I cannot help but to rectify this situation immediately!"
When I say tearfully, it is tearful as in, the man is crying like a leaky faucet right now. A river, even. I can't tell if it's genuine or crocodile tears, but tears are definitely flowing and wetting the carpet. I checked over to Sieghart and, seeing that he doesn't seem to react in any sort of way aside from a defeated sigh, I'm just going to assume that this is a normal occurrence for the redhead to do this? Maybe?
Again, while I still have no idea why it matters so much to Arnold that he had to grovel for this, his words and behavior imply that he must be the 'pet' that Joanne mentioned during our tea time yesterday. Kind of fitting of a villainess to have a personal tailor as her so-called pet, among other things, since they're always depicted to be super fashionable, but I don't want to deal with this kind of clingy and self-absorbed guy….
So instead, I turn to Odilie, whose vindicated expression over the groveling Arnold instantly vanished when she caught me looking at her, hiding her face under a shy bow. "Miss."
"Is what he said true? That you're just an apprentice?"
"That is correct."
"And that Madame Rosetta sends you here, knowing that I am the client?"
Odilie's expression turn into a constipated one as she gave a silent nod. Her face is positively afraid.
I know that Joanne won't treat me with malice like the other two family members due to her being the one giving the word to call in the tailor for me, or at least, I have the confidence that she won't do it so blatantly. If she sends me a subpar person, one that can't even compete with Arnold's skills then by logic, not only does the weight of her words diminish but my honor is also tarnished from making my request to an inadequate person.
I can't see Joanne stooping so low with her scheming after I witness her firsthand, Odilie still looks like she'd rather jump out the window to not be here, and Arnold looks sufficiently desperate for this ruckus to be a lie. Therefore, this must be the move of the Madame herself or someone behind her-
'Grooowlll…..'
My stomach growls as a warning. Not protest, not yet, I'm not yet hungry at the moment, but the warning means that I will, soon.
Fuck thinking. I need to eat before I miss the window to consume the medicine! I'm so sick of sleeping that I'd rather not!! "Then, the two of you shall compete."
"???"