"Happy birthday to me," Isla muttered dryly, staring into the dark waves below.
Her 23rd birthday wasn't supposed to feel like this. It was not supposed to be spent wallowing in the depths of self-pity and processing a whirlwind of negative emotions.
Not with a breakup still fresh in her heart and her ex-boyfriend already flaunting his new relationship on social media.
"Maybe I shouldn't have come," Isla thought. But her best friend, Mia, had insisted. "A cruise will help you forget," she'd said. Forget? Easier said than done.
To distract herself, Isla had brought an old paperback she'd found buried in her bookshelf while packing for the trip: *Scarlet Promises,* a historical romance novel she'd read a couple of years back. The story was dramatic, full of betrayals, forbidden love, and of course a scheming villainess—Lady Evangeline Marlowe—whose life ended in tragedy. Isla had always hated how the novel painted Evangeline as irredeemable, her every move twisted by jealousy and ambition, while the heroine, sweet and innocent Rosaline, got everything she wanted. It felt too black-and-white. Too unfair.
"Maybe I should re-read it," Isla mused, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She had tucked the book in her bag earlier, intending to dive into its melodrama to escape her own.
But as the ship swayed gently beneath her, a sudden shout startled Isla. She turned sharply to see a crew member running across the deck, yelling something she couldn't make out. The next moment, the ship jolted violently, tilting just enough to throw Isla off balance.
Her hands slipped from the railing.
Time seemed to slow as she stumbled backward, her arms flailing. The last thing she saw was the endless black of the ocean rushing up to meet her.
---
When Isla opened her eyes, the world was different.
She was lying on something soft—satin sheets, she realized. Her head throbbed, and the distant sound of birds chirping reached her ears. Slowly, she sat up, blinking at her surroundings.
"This... isn't my cabin," she said.
The room was lavishly decorated in rich reds and golds. Velvet curtains framed a large window that overlooked a sprawling garden. A vanity table stood in the corner, its surface cluttered with ornate jewelry and perfume bottles. Everything screamed luxury and timeless elegance.
"Where am I?" Isla whispered, panic rising in her chest.
Just then, the door burst open, and a maid rushed in. She was a young woman with a pale complexion and wide, fearful eyes, dressed in a traditional servant's uniform.
"Lady Evangeline! You're awake!" the maid exclaimed, dropping into a hurried curtsy.
"Lady who?" Isla froze.
The maid looked up, her expression confused. "My lady, you fainted during your morning walk. The physician said you should rest, but the duke will not be pleased if you miss the prince's arrival today."
"The duke? The prince?" Isla echoed, her voice rising. "What are you talking about?"
Her heart pounded as realization dawned on her. The room, the maid, the name... It all felt eerily familiar. Too familiar.
"No," she whispered, her hands trembling. "This can't be happening."
She turned to the vanity table and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. The face staring back at her wasn't hers. It was sharper, and more angular, with piercing green eyes and dark, wavy hair cascading down her shoulders. It was a face she recognized all too well.
"Lady Evangeline Marlowe," she muttered, her voice shaking. "I'm... her?"
The villainess of Scarlet Promises.