Eleanor sat on the plush couch in the study, her hands resting on her lap. Lord Duke Elias Hawthorne sat across from her, a tall figure draped in dark, regal attire. His eyes were kind but piercing, and though he exuded an air of authority, there was warmth in the way he looked at her. He was her father, or at least, he was now.
Her mind wandered briefly as she observed him. In her previous life, Eleanor had never known a father's love. She had been orphaned at a young age, a slave to the whims of noble families who cared little for her. The contrast was jarring. Lord Elias had always doted on her, showering her with gifts and attention, never sparing a thought for the fact that she was his only child. In this life, she was loved—something she had never dared to hope for.
But with the warmth came a pang of jealousy. In her old life, she had been nothing, cast aside. Now, here she was, living a life she never deserved. It felt too easy, too unreal.
Lord Elias spoke, breaking her thoughts. "How are you feeling, Eleanor? Are your wounds healing well?"
Eleanor blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the question. Her mind quickly scrambled to recall the incident he was referring to—the accident. She remembered the storm, the violent winds that had shaken the carriage, the terrifying drop as the wheels of the coach lost grip on the edge of the cliff, and then the cold darkness that had swallowed her. She had been unconscious for three days, found only by a group of guards who had searched the forest for her.
She had been lucky to survive. The guards had all assumed the worst, but Eleanor had emerged, battered and bruised, but alive. The realization hit her all at once—the accident had happened at the same time she died in her previous life. It was a strange twist of fate, or perhaps something more, but in that moment, she understood that the body she now inhabited was still Eleanor Hawthorne, the daughter of Lord Duke Elias Hawthorne. The life she was now living had begun only after she had died in her other world.
A shiver ran through her. She couldn't tell her father the truth—not about her previous life, not about the System. That part of her past was better left unsaid. She just nodded quietly. "I'm healing, Father. Slowly, but I'm getting better."
Lord Elias smiled, though his expression remained tense. "I'm so glad to hear that. You gave us all quite a scare. I haven't slept much since the accident. I've been too worried."
Eleanor's heart twisted at his concern. The love he had for her was genuine, and in this moment, it almost felt like she had a real family. She wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, that the storm had come out of nowhere, and that the accident was just one of those terrible things that happened. But instead, she simply gave him a gentle smile and replied, "It wasn't your fault, Father. The storm… it was just bad luck."
He looked at her for a moment, his brow furrowed. Then he sighed deeply. "Perhaps you're right, but it still troubles me. I'll be more cautious from now on. I want nothing more than to keep you safe."
Eleanor nodded, though part of her wished she could convince him that she was fine now. She wasn't the same weak, vulnerable girl who had been abandoned and alone in her previous life. But that didn't seem to matter now. This was her new life, and she had to adapt.
Lord Elias leaned forward, his expression turning a little more serious. "I have some news. We've received an invitation to the royal palace for a gala. The prince is hosting it, and he has specifically requested your attendance."
Eleanor's eyes widened in surprise. The royal palace? She had never been to such an event before. In her past life, she had never dreamed of even stepping foot in a place like that. The idea of attending a gala at the palace was overwhelming.
"I… the palace?" she stammered, unsure how to respond. The thought of the grand, opulent palace, filled with people far above her station, made her nervous. She had spent her whole life in the shadows, unseen, and now she was supposed to be a part of this world, a world that felt so foreign. The thought of it almost made her want to refuse outright.
Lord Elias, ever perceptive, noticed her hesitation. He gave her a reassuring smile, but there was an undercurrent of understanding in his eyes. "You don't have to go, Eleanor. If you're not ready yet, I won't force you. Take your time."
Relief flooded through her. She hadn't expected her father to be so understanding, so patient. She almost wanted to say that she wasn't ready, that the idea of facing so many strangers—especially in such an extravagant setting—was too much. But just as she was about to speak, the familiar, cold voice of the System echoed in her mind, interrupting her thoughts.
"Quest: Attend the gala and meet the prince."
Eleanor froze, her breath catching in her throat. The System had spoken, and she could feel the weight of the task pressing down on her. She had hoped to avoid this, to put off her mission for a little longer, but the System had given her an order. She had no choice but to follow it.
She clenched her fists, trying to ignore the sense of panic that rose in her chest. Her mind was racing. Meeting the prince? She had barely just begun to understand her place in this new life. She didn't even know where to start. The thought of standing in front of the prince—the beggar she had saved—was terrifying. How could she possibly convince him to fall in love with her? She didn't even know the first thing about him.
Yet, here she was, caught in a game she hadn't chosen, with no room for refusal.
Eleanor took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She couldn't show her inner turmoil. Not now, not in front of her father. She turned to Lord Elias, her face softening into a polite smile.
"I… I can go, Father," she said, though her voice trembled slightly. "If you think it's best, I will attend."
Lord Elias's eyes lit up with happiness. "Oh, Eleanor, I'm so glad! I know it's a big step, but I'm sure you'll do well. You'll be the most beautiful lady there, I'm sure of it."
She nodded, her stomach churning with nerves. "Thank you, Father."
He stood up and walked over to her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "Then it's settled. Get ready for the gala. I'll make sure everything is prepared for you."
Eleanor watched him leave, her mind still reeling. The System had spoken, and now she had a mission to complete. She was to attend the gala and meet the prince—the same beggar she had saved from the assassin.
The weight of it all settled heavily on her chest. She had no idea how to navigate this world, how to make the prince fall in love with her. But one thing was certain: she couldn't afford to fail. If she did, her life would be forfeit.
Taking a deep breath, she stood up, steeling herself for what lay ahead. There was no turning back now. She would face the gala, face the prince, and do whatever was necessary to complete the mission.
After all, her life depended on it.