The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as Lura's fingers danced across the keys of her laptop. The soft hum of the machines surrounding her hospital bed was a constant reminder of her fragile state, but she barely noticed them. She was close—so close to finishing the final chapter of her book. Each word she typed felt like a step closer to closure, to the end of a journey she had poured her heart into.
Lura paused, her eyes flickering over the screen, the cursor blinking expectantly. "The Love of the Crown Prince Cleanses Me." She chuckled softly at the title, a mix of pride and amusement in her voice. This story had been her escape, a world she had created, filled with drama, intrigue, and heartbreak. She had considered adding an epilogue, maybe even a few side stories, but deep down, she knew this was the end.
Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard. A sudden pang in her chest made her wince. It wasn't the first time she'd felt it, but it was stronger now, a sharp reminder of the inevitable. She sighed, shaking her head. "Time for a nap," she whispered to herself, more to soothe her own anxiety than anything else.
With a final breath, she pressed the submit button. A wave of satisfaction washed over her as the screen confirmed her chapter was published. Her work was done. She carefully placed the laptop on the bedside table, sinking back into the pillows with a tired smile. Closing her eyes, she let the fatigue wash over her.
But as she drifted off, a strange sensation began to tug at her. It was a pull, deep and insistent, like an invisible hand dragging her away from consciousness. Lura's eyes snapped open, but the hospital room was already fading, the edges of her vision darkening as if a curtain was being drawn over her world. She tried to resist, to hold on to something, anything, but the force was too strong. Panic gripped her as she was swallowed by the darkness.
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When I opened my eyes, I wasn't lying in a hospital bed. Cold, hard metal? pressed against my knees. My heart pounded in my chest as I blinked, disoriented, my mind struggling to grasp what had just happened.
Where am I?
My gaze drifted downward, and I froze. The floor beneath me wasn't just cold—it was gold. Polished, reflective gold. My breath caught in my throat as I saw my reflection staring back at me. Soft pink hair framed a delicate face, and wide red eyes tinged with panic stared up at me.
This isn't my face.
Panic surged through me as I realized whose face I was seeing. Lura Valentine. The villainess from my book. The character I had named after myself, the one I had condemned to a life of misery and heartache.
"No… This can't be real...," I whispered, my voice trembling. I tried to push myself up, but my limbs felt heavy, as if weighed down by the gravity of the situation. My heart pounded in my chest, and my thoughts spiraled into chaos.
How was this possible? How could I be here, in the world I had created? Why did it have to be her?
"Lura Valentine," a voice boomed, shattering my dazed thoughts. I whipped my head up, my gaze locking onto the figure sitting before me—a Golden blonde haired and bright golden eyed man dressed in regal attire, his expression stern and unforgiving. The King.
My blood ran cold. I knew this scene. I had written it. This was the moment where the villainess was cast aside, her reputation in tatters, her fate sealed.
The King's voice was like thunder as he continued, "Your recent actions have been foul and disgraceful. You have brought shame upon this court. However, out of respect for your father's service, I will not strip you of your title. But know this—you are no longer fit to be the crown prince's fiancée. And i refuse to allow you to be my daughter in law."
The words echoed in the vast throne room, each one a nail in the coffin of my old life. I could hear the snickers of the other nobles around me it picked at my skin like sharks at a bloodied fish. I felt the weight of the kings words, the finality, but instead of the anger and desperation I had written into Lura Valentine, I felt something else—a cold, calculating clarity.
I knew what was supposed to happen next. The Lura Valentine I had created would throw a fit, her fury and indignation spiraling out of control until she was dragged off to the dungeons and exiled to the north where she made a pact with a demon and became the final obstacle for the prince and his lover . But this wasn't a story anymore. This was my life.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. "Thank you, Your Majesty, for your leniency, I shall reflect on my actions." I said, my voice steady and composed. The words felt foreign on my tongue, but they were right. I had to play this differently, to rewrite the fate I had once sealed for myself.
The King's eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion flickering across his face. He was expecting resistance, but instead, I had shown grace. He studied me for a moment longer, then turned away, his dismissal clear. He began a conversation with another noble i decided not to follow.
As the King's gaze left me, I finally noticed the crown prince standing beside him. His golden eyes bore into me with a mixture of disgust and disdain, his lips curled into a sneer. I could feel his contempt radiating off him, a sharp contrast to the kindness I had once written into his character. He hates me, I realized, my stomach twisting at the thought. But it wasn't just hatred—it was the cold indifference of someone who had already moved on.
The realization hit me like a blow. I was truly alone here. Whatever comfort I had found in my writing, whatever control I had over these characters and their fates, was gone. Now, I was just another player in a game I no longer controlled.
And then, in the back of my mind, another realization surfaced—one that sent a chill down my spine. If I was here, if I was truly Lura Valentine, then that meant… I was dead. My real body, the one lying in that hospital bed, had succumbed to the illness that had plagued me for years. There was nothing left to go back to, even if I could find a way out of this world.
This is my reality now.
I remained kneeling for a few moments, the weight of my new existence sinking in. This was no longer just a story. This was my life—a life I had unknowingly written into existence. And now, I was living it, every consequence of my words and actions falling squarely on my shoulders.
As I slowly rose to my feet, my resolve hardened. I would not be the villainess of this tale. I would change the narrative, not just for myself but for the Lura Valentine I had become. This world, this life—it was mine to shape, and I would do it my way.
With a final glance at the sneering prince and the golden floor, I rose to my feet and turned and walked out of the throne room, my mind already working on the next chapter of my new life.