My eyes open.
'Here we go again' I think. A familiar yet entirely foreign room surrounds me. The weight of the world feels like it sits on my chest. I want nothing more than to close my eyes and go back to the embrace of darkness but know I will not be able to. I am so very tired.
I have lost track of the number of lives I have lived by this point. An endless cycle waking up and living and dying. Again and Again.
The plot differs slightly with each life, and the setting changes a little as well. But the characters never do, nor do their roles within these endless cycles.
There is always the heroine a light in darkness, her harem of powerful handsome men, lead by a prince who will one day be crowned ruler. Each of the men beautiful if a little troubled, always singularly focused on their one true love.
And me. The villainess, the heroines rival. Beautiful on the outside but vile on the inside. Always the outcast, the scapegoat, the stepping stone to true happiness. A jealous scheming rival, a contrast to the ever kind, if slightly ditzy female lead.
No matter what I try to do my role is always the same. The villain, who tries to ruin the romance and joy of the main characters. Even if I never do anything wrong. Everything is always somehow my fault. When other women plot and scheme against them, I am accused of being their ring leader. When the heroine is poisoned and no one is found to blame, it must be me. No matter what, I am always in the wrong.
The plot would always find a way to drag me back, to make me the enemy. It is inevitable. Unchanging.
I had tried so many things to break the cycle, avoiding the main cast, being as nice as possible to them, playing my role and being cruel to everyone, running away from everything. Nothing works.
So, as I lay there staring at an unfamiliar ceiling that I simultaneously felt like I had known all my life, I decided. This time I would simply be lazy, do the bare minimum. Take the cycle off, so to speak.
Play the perfect lady to satisfy my father, act as I was expected to act in front of society, and simply let myself be led where this particular story would lead me. Maybe next life I will try something new, but this time I will simply let the current drag me where it would.
From the outside these lives might not seem that bad. I am always rich, a member of a powerful family. Why am I complaining about spending an eternity in luxury. That is just a mask though, hiding an ocean of misery beneath.
My father is always controlling, pushing me to become the perfect pawn, to earn him more power. I never have any agency of my own, only ever allowed to take the actions he wants me to take.
Then, of course there is the way they always end. I reached a hand to my throat, though I knew there was nothing there. The memory of a blade slicing it open too vivid, some part of me still expecting to feel the too warm blood spilling through my fingers.
I sighed, my hand falling to my side once more. There is no point dwelling on memories.
A knock sounded on my door.
"My lady may I come in?"
My maid, I assume. I call for her to enter.
The setting is always high society. I am always the daughter of a noble, high up but never at the top. Sometimes there would be magic, or monsters, or the heroine would be some holy saint, or sometimes just average people. The main cast is always unnaturally gorgeous though.
This extends to me as well, I think as I stare into the mirror. Having allowed the maid to dress me on auto-pilot, I now sat as she did my hair. Not having truly registered anything going on around me until this moment.
I was always unfairly beautiful. Striking, and eye-catching but it is always a hollow beauty. My looks differed slightly, black hair this time, but my eyes were always the same, a blood red. A villains eyes, I suppose.
The only other constant is my first name, Madeleine.