Celeste sat at the vanity in her room, her fingers idly tracing the carvings on its surface. Outside, the sun was setting, bathing the estate in a golden glow that seemed to mock the storm raging in her mind.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the vanity, and stared into the mirror. The face that stared back at her was flawless, unmarred by the stress she felt. It was still strange to look at. Strange to see Celeste Varrow instead of Maggie Warren.
'I'm her now,' she thought, her stomach twisting. 'I am Celeste Varrow. The villainess of "The Crimson Heir."'
The novel came rushing back to her in fragmented scenes, its ridiculous plot details as vivid as if she were flipping through its pages again.
---
The world of 'The Crimson Heir' was a melting pot of political intrigue, betrayal, and heartbreak. A place where noble families schemed for power, alliances were forged and broken, and love was a weapon as much as a weakness.
At its center was the heroine, Lady Isabella Astoria, a common-born girl elevated to nobility through a twist of fate. Isabella's rise to prominence was meteoric. She captured the hearts of the kingdom's elite with her charm and intelligence, eventually winning the love of the Crown Prince, Kael.
But where there was a shining heroine, there had to be a shadow. Celeste Varrow.
Celeste's role in the story was clear: to be the obstacle, the foil to Isabella's light. She was manipulative, haughty, and desperate to keep her position at court. The novel painted her as someone consumed by jealousy, willing to stoop to any low to destroy Isabella.
And it ended terribly for her.
The details flashed through Celeste's mind like a cruel highlight reel:
- The banquet where she threw wine at the Crown Prince, sealing her reputation as an uncontrollable shrew.
- The staged incident where Isabella was "attacked," a scheme Celeste was framed for.
- Her eventual trial, where even her family abandoned her, and the Crown Prince sentenced her to death without hesitation.
It was a complete annihilation.
---
Celeste groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Why did I keep reading this garbage?" she muttered.
She remembered now why she'd hated 'The Crimson Heir' so much. The plot was predictable, the characters were caricatures, and the villainess had no nuance. No redemption arc, no depth. Just a one-way ticket to ruin.
But now, it was her life.
She paced the room, her steps echoing against the polished floor. "Okay," she muttered. "Think. What can I use?"
The first thing she needed to do was avoid all the major death flags. She'd already sidestepped the wine-throwing debacle, but there were plenty more waiting to trip her up.
Her fingers tapped against the vanity as she thought.
*Lady Belmore's party.* That had been one of the early moments where the court turned against Celeste in the novel. But today, she'd managed to leave with her reputation intact. Perhaps even slightly improved.
'The framed attack on Isabella.' That was one of the most pivotal moments in the book. In the original timeline, Celeste had been lured into a trap by her own arrogance. She'd tried to humiliate Isabella at a garden party, only to find herself accused of orchestrating an attack.
That event set off a chain reaction, alienating what few allies she had left.
'I need to stop that from happening,' Celeste thought.
And then there was the Crown Prince.
---
Kael.
The man who would someday sit on the throne. In the book, he was described as cold and calculating, with a sharp intellect and an even sharper tongue. His relationship with Celeste had always been strained, but after the wine incident, he began to view her as nothing more than a nuisance.
He was also Isabella's ultimate love interest.
Celeste bit her lip. She remembered the scene where Kael sentenced her to death. His voice had been calm, detached, as though he were swatting away a bothersome fly.
Her heart raced at the thought. That couldn't be her fate. She wouldn't let it be.
But how did she deal with him? She couldn't afford to get too close. He already viewed her with suspicion. At the same time, keeping her distance could make her seem like she was plotting something.
'What did the system say? Build alliances and gain the Crown Prince's trust.'
She snorted. Easier said than done.
---
Her thoughts turned to the other characters.
Lady Sophia Durand. She was one of the few noblewomen who had a kind heart. In the novel, she had been one of Isabella's closest friends, but she had no direct ties to Celeste. If Celeste could forge an alliance with her now, perhaps she could turn Sophia into a valuable ally before Isabella ever entered the picture.
And then there was Duke Durand, Sophia's father. A powerful man at court, known for his loyalty to the royal family. Winning his favor would be even more challenging, but if she could manage it, it would give her a much-needed foothold in the treacherous world of politics.
Finally, there was Annalise, her stepsister. In the novel, Annalise had taken every opportunity to undermine Celeste, eventually siding with Isabella to solidify her own position at court. Celeste didn't trust her as far as she could throw her, but perhaps… perhaps there was a way to keep Annalise at bay.
---
She slumped back into the vanity chair, exhausted. The weight of her situation pressed down on her like a lead blanket.
"I can't believe this is my life now," she muttered. "Dodging death flags, scheming alliances, and pretending to care about these people. What kind of sadistic author wrote this mess?"
The system chimed, its cheerful tone grating against her nerves.
「Host has identified key plot points and characters. Probability of survival increased by 3%. Current survival probability: 24%.」
"Twenty-four percent?!" Celeste threw her hands in the air. "What do I have to do to get above fifty? Slay a dragon? Solve world hunger?"
The system didn't answer, of course.
She leaned back, closing her eyes. Despite the chaos in her mind, one thing was clear: if she wanted to survive, she couldn't just react to events as they happened. She needed to be proactive.
She needed to outsmart the story itself.