Chapter one

Gladys' POV

I opened my eyes, my head throbbing as if it were about to split in two. My vision was blurry, but I managed to scan the room I was in. The rough, dusty floor beneath me smelled of mildew, and I was lying on a pile of old, ragged clothes. The room itself resembled an abandoned storeroom—dark, cluttered, and suffocating.

"How on earth did I end up here? Wasn't I supposed to be at the palace?" I murmured to myself, pushing myself up on shaky arms. My head spun as I stumbled to the door, a flimsy piece of wood hanging on rusted hinges.

As I reached for the handle, the door creaked loudly when I pushed it open.

"Ahhh!" A scream startled me, and I stumbled backward.

But the sound wasn't mine. It came from the young girl standing in front of me, her face pale with shock.

"Gladys! You're finally awake!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking as she lunged forward to wrap me in a bone-crushing hug.

"Wait! I… I can't breathe," I choked out, my confusion deepening.

She quickly released me, her hands trembling as she grinned through tears. "I'm sorry! I was just so worried. You've been asleep for a whole week. I thought you might never wake up. How are you feeling?"

Her words barely registered as I stared at her face. I didn't recognize her. My thoughts felt scattered, like shards of glass in my mind. One week? How could I have been unconscious for a week?

"Gladys? Are you okay?" Her voice shook, and her worried gaze bore into mine.

I blinked. "Wait… What did you just call me?"

"Gladys," she said, her brows furrowing.

"Why are you calling me someone else's name?" I asked, my heart pounding.

"What do you mean? That's your name, Gladys. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

Her words hit me like a slap, but they didn't make sense. My name wasn't Gladys—it was Elizabeth. And this girl, whoever she was, had mistaken me for someone else.

"I… I need a moment," I whispered, stepping back, my hands trembling. That's when my eyes caught something: my hands. They were smooth, youthful, unblemished—not the hands I remembered.

My heart raced as I examined my skin. This isn't me. Panic rose in my chest, and I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, a sharp pain shot through my head.

Memories—foreign yet familiar—flooded my mind. Images of another life, another girl, another name: Gladys. Then, flashes of my own past life—my trial, my execution—pushed to the forefront.

I staggered, clutching my head. I've been reincarnated. I'm in someone else's body.

"Gladys, you're scaring me!" the girl cried, shaking my arm. "What's wrong?"

The pain subsided, and I blinked at her. The memories had pieced themselves together, leaving one certainty: this girl in front of me was Isabella, Gladys' best friend. I was living in Gladys' body now.

"Isabella," I said, testing the name on my tongue. "How far is the palace from here?"

"The palace? It's about thirty minutes away. Why are you asking?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I straightened up and tapped her shoulder. "Stay here. I'll be back soon."

"But—"

I didn't let her finish. My feet carried me out of the abandoned house and toward the palace.

Running through the streets, the streets looks different, there were many things I didn't recognized, then a thought found it way to my head, 

"You are hereby sentenced to death for poisoning the queen mother!"

The emperor's voice roared across the plaza, drowning out my desperate cries. The guards held me down, forcing me to kneel before the jeering crowd.

"I didn't do it!" I screamed, my voice cracking. "I could never hurt her! She was my only friend!"

The queen had been kind to me, a mere maid. She had treated me with a warmth I'd never known, and now, I was accused of her murder.

No one listened. My cries fell on deaf ears.

When I realized there was no escape, I steadied my breathing and made one final wish. "I swear, if there is justice in this world, let me return in another life with my memories intact. Let me avenge myself and my queen."

The last thing I saw was the glint of the executioner's blade as it descended.

Then my thoughts was broken as I stood still staring at a building in front of me, "It still looks the same," I muttered.

The gates of the palace stood before me, imposing and familiar. My heart ached as memories of my past life surged within me. The palace hadn't changed, even though I was sure it had been years since my death.

I was stopped by a guard, his face vaguely familiar, though older and lined with age.

"What do you want?" he asked, his tone gruff.

I glanced past him and saw a notice nailed to the gate: Palace maid applications open. A plan formed in my mind.

"I'm here to apply for the maid position," I said.

The guard scrutinized me, then nodded. "Go to the maid quarters. They'll handle it."

Without hesitation, I made my way there. The inside of the palace still looks the same. The path was second nature to me; I didn't need directions.

At the maid quarters, I overheard a conversation.

"The prince is making things so difficult for us," one maid said. "We might have to extend the application deadline. No one wants to work here anymore."

Before the head maid could respond, another maid entered. "Someone's here to apply."

"Let her in," the head maid replied.

I stepped forward, my heart steady. This time, I'll do things differently. This time, I'll uncover the truth and make them pay.