If Isabella had truly transmigrated into this world, and if the royal family, her parents and brother, loved her genuinely, unlike what was depicted in the novel, then she had been granted a second chance at something she had never experienced in her original life: love and warmth.
In her past life, love was foreign to her. Her parents had always been critical, distant, and cold. No matter how hard she tried to please them, her efforts were ignored. But here, things were different. The care and concern radiating from the king, queen, and her brother filled a void she hadn't even realized she was aching to fill.
If this family truly cared for her, she had to hold on to it at all costs. She couldn't let her actions lead her down the same tragic path as the villainess in the story. The villainess, unloved and broken, had lashed out in desperation, pushing her family and everyone else away. That won't be me, Isabella thought resolutely. If rewriting the villainess's fate was the way to preserve this newfound love, then that's exactly what she would do.
Gathering her thoughts, she softly said, "Mother, Father, I… I understand why you want to adopt. It's your duty as the king and queen to care for all of your people. I don't mind if you do it."
The room fell silent. Her words had struck her family with surprise.
The queen, her elegant face softened by the shock, leaned closer. "Isabella, you… you truly mean that?" she asked, her voice tentative. "You've been so upset about this until now. Are you sure?"
Her father, who had been studying her carefully, added, "We've always said that you are the only princess of this family. We only considered this adoption because it was necessary for the kingdom. But if it's truly upsetting you, we don't have to go through with it."
Isabella smiled faintly, though her heart ached with an unfamiliar feeling—acceptance. "Mother, Father, I'm fine. Really. I know you love me, and I trust your decisions. If adopting another daughter will help the kingdom, then I'll support you."
The queen's eyes glistened with tears. "You've grown so understanding, Isabella. We were worried about how this might affect you. We didn't want you to feel unloved."
Her father nodded in agreement. "You're our treasure. Don't ever doubt that."
Her brother chimed in, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'll make sure she knows her place if you're worried, Isabella. No one will take your place as the princess of this family."
Their reassurances warmed her, and Isabella couldn't help but feel comforted by their love. She wasn't alone anymore.
But she wasn't a saint. As much as their words softened her heart, Isabella knew one thing for certain: she would not insist on them bringing the adopted sister here personally. If the novel was anything to go by, that girl,the supposed heroine of the story, was cunning, manipulative, and cruel. She had managed to warm her way into the royal family's affections while plotting the villainess's downfall.
"No, it's okay," Isabella said sweetly. "You don't need to go yourselves. You're busy enough as it is. Just send the chauffeur to pick her up."
The king hesitated, but the queen nodded in agreement. "You're right. That would be simpler."
Isabella let out a soft sigh of relief. She had dodged one confrontation. But the real problem remained: the villainess's tragic fate. If her memory served her right, the villainess had been locked away during the adopted daughter's birthday celebration. That night, a fire had broken out, killing her. The book never made it clear what caused the fire or who was responsible.
Frustration bubbled within her. If only she had stayed awake to finish those last two chapters! Those pages would have revealed the villainess's murderer and the circumstances behind the fire. But now, she had no idea who or what would kill her in the next three years.
If I had known I would end up here, I would have forced myself to stay awake and finish the book, she thought bitterly.
---
After some lighthearted and love-filled conversation with her family, Isabella excused herself, claiming she was tired and needed to rest. They bid her goodnight with warm smiles and reassurances, leaving her heart heavier with both relief and uncertainty.
The moment she entered her room, she locked the door and leaned against it, her heart pounding. Her thoughts raced as fragments of memories from the villainess's life flooded her mind.
She rushed to the mirror across the room, compelled by an inexplicable urge. When she reached it, she froze.