I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Everything froze around me. It felt like the world had slapped me upside the head and told me to stay still. My brain, though? It was on overdrive, trying to piece together this madness.
Like, what the hell just happened to me?
I got transmigrated. Into a freakin' novel. A character who dies. In a way that's supposed to gut me.
Out of everything, this was what hit me?
And the worst part? I don't even remember the damn story fully. This wasn't some literary classic I'd devoured on a sleepless night, no. This was some crappy, throwaway book I picked up because it was on sale and I had nothing better to do.
I used to laugh at how stupid the plot was—A weak female lead and some hotshot noble son bumping into each other in the street, falling in love at first sight. Love at first sight? Seriously? Who writes this garbage?
But now?
Now, I'm Cecilia Von Arlen.
Cecilia, the girl who doesn't even get a chance to live her own damn life.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
I wanted to scream, to let it all out, rip my hair out, but no. These people—they keep staring at me, eyes locked, waiting for me to do something.
For God's sake, get outta my face.
"Cecilia… are you okay, sweetie?"
She says it again, this woman. Her voice thick with worry. And that's when it hits me. Oh, hell. This was supposed to be my mom, wasn't it? The lady who's now my mother?
What the hell is going on?
"Uh…" What the hell do I say to that? "Am I okay?" Hell no, I'm not okay. I'm trapped inside a body in a book, about to get killed, and I don't even remember the full story.
But instead of telling her that? I go with the safest, most rehearsed answer I could come up with.
"I… I'm fine." My voice cracks, betraying the lie, but she doesn't notice.
Her face softens, and she leans in, running her hand through my hair. Instinctively, I jerk back.
Nope, nope, nope.
No, lady, I don't know you. You're not my real mother, and I sure as hell don't have time to bond with some stranger. Not today.
Her face drops like I just kicked her puppy.
What the hell is wrong with everyone?
The whole room looks at me like I've just committed a crime—like I'm the villain in their little drama.
Excuse me, but God killed me, threw me in someone else's life, and now I'm supposed to play happy family?
And then there's Theodore. Oh, Theodore. He's the classic pain in the ass. Always has something to say, never keeps it to himself.
"Now look at her. Acting all dramatic, playing the victim." He scoffs, like I'm the one in the wrong here.
I throw him a glare so cold, it could've frozen time. Dramatic? Me? Dude, I'm in a damn novel! You think I'm supposed to be calm about it?
"Theodore," the Grand Duke barks. His voice is low, dangerous. Like it's already too late for you if you piss him off.
Theodore shrugs, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He mutters something under his breath, but he shuts up after that.
Finally, the Grand Duke steps in, taking control of the situation. His gaze sweeps across the room like he owns the place—which, with his title, he probably does.
"It seems like she needs more rest. Let's leave."
Finally! A break! I want to shout a big "thank you," but I just nod internally. They all file out one by one, throwing me these worried looks like I'm some fragile vase. The Grand Duke lingers for a moment, before he nods at the maid.
"Take care of her," he orders.
The maid gives a sharp nod, curtsying. "Yes, Your Grace."
The door shuts with a heavy click, leaving me alone in the room. The silence is almost too loud.
How am I supposed to handle this?
I sink back into the bed, the softness of the pillows almost mocking me. This whole thing? It feels like a damn nightmare, one I can't wake up from. My chest felt tight, like someone had stuffed it with wet cement. Everything was too damn much—the room, the flowers, the golden freaking chandelier above my head.
And then there was that girl. That maid. Standing there all stiff, her head bowed like I punished her.
I sighed loudly, dragging a hand down my face. "Hey, you."
She flinched, her head snapping up slightly.
"What's your name?" I asked, my tone sharp. No point sugarcoating it—I wasn't in the mood.
Her eyes went wide, like I'd asked her to recite an ancient spell or something. "Miss… you… you don't remember?"
"Just tell me the damn name." I wasn't about to play twenty questions with her.
She flinched again, stammering, "M-Mina, miss."
"Mina, huh?" I muttered, leaning back on the ridiculous mountain of pillows. I eyed her up and down. She looked like she wanted to bolt, but she stayed frozen, hands twisting nervously in her apron.
"Alright, Mina. Leave me alone. And don't let anyone come in, got it?"
She nodded so fast I thought her head might snap off. "Y-yes, miss!"
And just like that, she bolted, the door clicking shut behind her. Finally. Alone. Peace.
For a second, I just breathe, trying to center myself. I tell myself to calm down. But then I see it—the mirror.
What does she look like?
I can't stop myself. I walk over to it, barefoot, the floor cool against my skin. I don't even care. The slippers can stay where they are. I stare at the reflection of her—Cecilia Von Arlen. I didn't expect much—she's just a side character, right? No way she's anything special.
But, damn. I was wrong.
I stop dead in my tracks, staring at the reflection. Cecilia Von Arlen. That's her—me.
And this girl? Unreal.
Her hair's black, like straight-up raven feathers, all glossy and flowing like she just walked off a shampoo commercial. Her eyes? Blue. Not just regular blue, but the kind that looks like the ocean during golden hour—deep, mesmerizing, like they could suck your soul out if you stared too long.
She's too perfect. Way too perfect.
I take a step closer, my fingers twitching, like I'm expecting the mirror to crack or something. This can't be real. It feels like staring at a CGI character, not a real person.
I squint at my reflection, like maybe if I stare hard enough, I'll snap out of this. But instead, one thought hits me like a sucker punch to the gut: How did this girl die again?
I don't remember much of the novel, just bits and pieces, like flipping through a blurry photo album. But her death? Oh, I remember that crystal clear. she was the first one to die in this damn novel.
She had been dragged into that dark, cold dungeon by those men. Beaten by the guards, her body covered in wounds, slashed over and over again. The torment she endured. The coldness. The silence.
One meal a day—just a piece of bread and some water. That was her life, reduced to nothing but survival. She waited for death in that lonely, freezing darkness, silent as the days stretched on, the pain and hopelessness growing. And in the end, death came for her, but not in the way anyone would have hoped.
No hero swooped in to save her.
She died alone, in that suffocating silence.
Her fate is mine?
"No wayyyyyy. No fucking wayyyy." I couldn't help but scream.
I ran a hand through my hair and paced around the room, my mind spiraling. This was insane. Completely insane.
What kind of sick joke was this? I didn't ask for any of this.
I had spent my life miserably, barely surviving, just trying to make it through each damn day. And now? Now I was stuck living as Cecilia? This perfect, beautiful, doomed character? No, I wasn't having it.
I scoffed, staring at my reflection again, the face of a girl who was supposed to be some noble lady. I didn't belong here. I didn't belong in this life. But here I was, stuck with a fate I couldn't escape.
I walked over to the balcony, gazing out at the sky. The blue was too perfect, the kind of sky you see in a painting—nothing like the polluted, grey skies I used to know. It felt almost... unreal, like the world itself was mocking me, taunting me for being trapped in this ridiculous, beautiful illusion.
I wanted to scream, to shout at the heavens. "Hey, God... are you kidding me?!"
I clenched my fists at my sides, the frustration bubbling up inside me, threatening to spill over. "What the hell did I do to deserve this? Why the hell am I stuck in someone else's life? Why this body, why her fate?!"
I looked up in the sky, as if expecting the sky itself to give me some answer.
Nothing.
Silence. The wind blew softly, but it didn't give me the answer I was looking for.
"Is this punishment? Or is it just some sick joke you're playing on me?"
My voice was a mix of bitterness and disbelief, and for a moment, I almost felt like the heavens might just crack open and answer me. But of course, it didn't happen. Nothing ever did when you needed it most.
I groaned and walked back inside the room, the weight of everything pressing down on me. I didn't know why I felt so exhausted. Maybe it was the shock, the overwhelming realization that my life—my real life—had just been thrown into this strange new world.
Sighhhhhhhhhhhhh.
"What am I going to do now?" I mumbled.