She consumed something she wasn't meant to unknowingly.
A sharp crash of ceramic filled the room, echoing like a warning bell. The maids froze, their gazes snapping toward the source of the sound.
A young girl with golden blonde hair and violet eyes sat at the head of the table, her usually composed expression contorted in pain. Her teacup lay shattered on the ground, the remnants of its contents pooling at her feet.
Her hand trembled as she clutched her throat, her breath ragged and uneven. A metallic tang coated her tongue, and a sharp, searing pain bloomed in her chest.
Poison?... Was it poison? But how? Her thoughts spiraled in panic.
Her body convulsed as she coughed violently, crimson staining her trembling hands. Her wide, terrified eyes darted around the room before she slumped from her chair, collapsing onto the cold marble floor.
"Princess Benedicta!" Catarina, her personal maid, rushed to her side. Panic overtook her delicate features as she dropped to her knees beside the princess. "Oh my goodness! Princess!"
Benedicta's chest tightened, each breath more labored than the last. The room spun. I drank the tea Catarina brought…
Turning sharply, Catarina barked at another maid, "Go fetch the palace doctor! Now!"
The other maid, pale and trembling, stumbled backward before darting out of the room in a blur.
Benedicta's trembling hand reached for Catarina's sleeve, her lips forming silent words as the maid frantically called for the doctor.
Her vision blurred as she fought to stay conscious. Catarina… no, she wouldn't have… Her mind struggled to process. She's loyal. My one constant. The one who stayed true to me, even when others didn't...
Her thoughts fractured with each painful breath. Then who? Who could have done this?
Her chest tightened, the fiery pain coursing through her. She tried to stay awake, but her body grew heavier, her limbs numb.
"Princess, stay with me! Don't close your eyes!" Catarina's voice broke through the haze, her hands trembling as she cradled Benedicta's head.
"Where is the doctor?!" Catarina shouted again, her voice desperate, cracking with fear.
Benedicta tried to speak, her lips quivering as if forming words, but no sound came. She could feel herself slipping further into the abyss. I can't die here… Not like this…
The pounding of hurried footsteps broke through the stillness as the doctor finally arrived, a leather satchel clutched tightly in his hand.
"Princess, the doctor is here! You'll be all right!" Catarina's voice was thick with tears as she gripped Benedicta's hand.
But the world was already dimming. The sounds around her muffled as though coming from underwater. Her strength ebbed, the pain pulling her further into darkness.
"It is too bad I had to get rid of you early. You don't own this body—it has always been rightfully mine, so i'm just claiming what's mine!"
The voice was faint, almost a whisper, but it chilled her to the core.
Who? was the last thought that drifted through her mind before the darkness swallowed her whole.
'This is unfair. Another death?' she thought as the cold emptiness engulfed her. 'Is this it?'
But then, she felt something—soft, insistent—shaking her gently.
'Huh? What? Who is shaking me?'
"Luzia…" a voice whispered, faint but persistent.
'Who is that?'
"Luzia… wake up!"
'Luzia? Is it me this person calls Luzia?'
"Luzia!" The voice grew louder, almost a shout.
Her eyes snapped open, her breath hitching as she gasped for air.
She turned her head and saw a young girl kneeling beside her, her delicate features framed by messy black hair. The girl's dark eyes shone with concern as she tugged at her arm. She wore a rough tunic top and a simple skirt, her clothes patched and threadbare.
"Luzia, it took you long enough to respond! I've been trying to wake you up for ages," the girl said with a relieved expression.
Luzia blinked, her mind swimming in confusion. 'Luzia? Is that me? Who is she? And where am I?'
She slowly sat up, her body aching as though it had been stretched and compressed all at once. Her surroundings came into focus: a long, narrow room lined with small, cramped beds arranged opposite each other in neat rows. Each bed was little more than a wooden frame with a thin, lumpy mattress, some covered with tattered blankets.
The walls were plain, painted a dull gray that seemed to absorb the faint light streaming in through tall, grimy windows. The air smelled faintly of damp wood and the musk of unwashed clothes.
A single iron stove stood at the far end of the room, its dull heat doing little to warm the cold space. The sound of muffled footsteps and distant voices echoed faintly, giving the room a lifeless feel.
The girl tilted her head, studying her. "What's wrong with you today? You were saying strange things in your sleep," she said, still gripping Luzia's arm. "Come on, you'll get in trouble if they see you lying around like this."
'An orphanage? How did I get here?' Luzia's heart raced as fragments of her previous life flickered through her mind. 'I remember being Princess Benedicta. I was poisoned...'
She clutched her head as a dull ache pulsed through her temples. "I…" she began to speak, but her voice sounded foreign, as though it didn't belong to her. 'My voice sounds different...'
Then, a wave of memories of this orphanage hit her. 'These aren't my memories...'
The girl frowned. "Are you feeling sick? You're pale." Her concern deepened, but she quickly glanced over her shoulder, as if wary of someone approaching. "You better snap out of it fast, Luzia. You know how they are…"
The girl's voice trailed off, but the fear in her eyes said enough.
Luzia swallowed hard, her mind scrambling for answers. 'I'm alive... but in another body?...'
"Hey!" the girl nudged her again, interrupting her thoughts. " We really don't have time for this. Is there something wrong, Luzia?"
Luzia nodded hesitantly, deciding to play along for now. "I... I'm fine, Alicia. Just a bad dream," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly.
Alicia sighed, relieved. "Good. Get up then."
As the girl stood and hurried off to the corner of the room, Luzia slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet meeting the cold floorboards. Her heart pounded as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings and tried to piece together what had happened.
'Why am I here? And what does this place have to do with me?'
She walked past one of the windows, but paused when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass.
As she stared into the reflection, her breath caught in her throat. A young girl with long brown hair and golden eyes stared back at her.
Her eyes widened as a flood of recognition crashed over her.
'Golden eyes, brown hair...'
Her pulse quickened. 'Now I understand why that name seemed familiar.'
"Luzia de Cazadores... doomed daughter of the villainous Duke Ramiro de Cazadores."
Her voice barely above a whisper, the words sent a shiver down her spine.
Memories began piecing themselves together, like fragments of a shattered mirror. 'I was Han Yoona... I died due to collusion with a truck.' The memory of her past life felt like a distant dream, yet vivid enough to sting. 'Then I became Princess Benedicta poisoned. And now… now I'm Luzia, the daughter of a notorious villain.'
Her fists clenched, her golden eyes narrowing. 'How did this even happen?'
Her mind reeled with unanswered questions, but the distant clang of a bell pulled her back to the present.
"Luzia, come on!" Alicia was tugging at her arm.
"Wait, Alicia—what is today?" Luzia asked suddenly, her voice trembling.
Alicia blinked, taken aback. "Today? My goodness did you really hit your head? It's the day the duke is coming to visit! "
Luzia swallowed hard. 'The Duke meaning ... Duke Ramiro is coming today.'
Her stomach twisted as memories from the novel came back more vividly, he was a cruel man who cared for nothing but power and domination. He was a figure of fear and disdain, even in the noble circles. And now, she was his daughter.
"Luzia, are you even listening?!" Alicia hissed, waving her fingers in front of Luzia's face. "If you don't hurry, they'll punish us both for being late! You know how strict they are on days like this!"
Luzia nodded, shaking herself free from the haze of her thoughts. "I'm coming," she murmured, her voice steadier than she felt.
As Alicia rushed ahead, Luzia lingered for a moment, her mind racing. 'What do I do now? I need to figure out why I'm here and how to survive this?'
Her gaze flickered back to the window. The reflection staring back at her. 'If I'm Luzia now, then I'll need to use everything I know about this world to stay alive.'
Squaring her shoulders, she turned and followed Alicia out of the dormitory.
The faint echo of children's chatter and hurried footsteps grew louder as they approached the main hall.
The room was already filled with rows of young girls, each standing stiffly, their backs straight, and their hands clasped in front of them, their faces scrubbed clean and their clothes as presentable as the orphanage's meager resources allowed.
Alicia pulled Luzia into place beside her, whispering under her breath. "Just stand straight and don't speak unless spoken to."
Luzia nodded, heart pounded.
The heavy oak doors at the end of the hall creaked open, and a suffocating hush fell over the room. Every pair of eyes turned toward the tall, imposing figure who stepped inside.
He was a young man with jet-black hair that framed his face. His piercing golden eyes swept across the room like a predator sizing up its prey.
Behind him stood a young man, his gray hair neatly combed, and his emerald green eyes cold. Dressed in muted but elegant attire, It was clear he was the duke's steward.
The two figures advanced into the hall, their footsteps echoing on the worn floorboards.
'Duke Ramiro de Cazadores and his steward Esteban Mendoza.'
Ramiro's piercing gaze swept over the assembled children, his dark cloak billowed behind him, and the silver crest of the Cazadores family gleamed at his chest.
Luzia's breath caught as his golden eyes—identical to hers—locked onto her.
For a brief moment, the duke's expression flickered, his brows drawing together.
'He recognizes me.'
The thought sent a chill down her spine.
The caretaker, clutching her ledger, bowed stiffly and addressed the duke. "Your Grace, these are all the ten-year-old girls in the orphanage. We have no others within the specified age range."
Esteban stepped closer, his voice low and calm as he murmured to the duke, "Your Grace, this is the final orphanage in the empire. Have you found her?"
Ramiro didn't respond. His eyes remained fixed on Luzia.
Then, to her shock, he began to move.
Luzia held her breath as he stopped before her, towering over her small frame. His eyes searched her face, and for a brief moment, something indescribable flickered in their depths.
"You look just like her," he said, his voice low with an edge that sent a shiver down her spine.
Luzia's blood ran cold. 'Those were the exact words from the novel—right before he destroyed the orphanage.'
Her pulse quickened as she remembered the devastating scene from the book.
But then something unexpected happened. His gaze dropped to her neck.
Ramiro's eyes darkened as they landed on the faint bruises there, his expression hardening further when he noticed the marks on her wrists. His lips pressed into a thin line, but his hands trembled at his sides.
The caretaker, sensing his sudden shift in demeanor, tried to intervene. "Your Grace, I assure you, the children are well cared for here—"
"What is this?!" Ramiro's voice thundered through the hall, cutting her off.
Everyone flinched at the raw anger in his tone. His golden eyes glistened as tears streaked down his face.
Luzia froze with wide eyes. 'Tears? He's crying? Why… why is he crying?'
His aura shifted, magic crackling like lightning around him, wild and unrestrained. The air grew heavy with the suffocating force of his power, causing the weaker children to collapse to their knees in terror.
The caretaker stumbled backward, her face pale with fear. "Your Grace, please—"
"Silence!" Ramiro growled, his voice low and venomous. His hands clenched into fists, the veins in his arms visible as his magic pulsed dangerously.
Luzia stared at him, on her knees, her expression unfazed despite the pressure of his magic. The weight of his presence should have been more imposing, but instead, she simply raised an eyebrow. 'I see. So this is how he destroyed the orphanage.'
'I expected a villain, not some sobbing fool.' She paused, giving him a hard, measuring look. 'Frankly, it's rather disappointing.'