Elyse de Vernemont's eyes snapped open, her chest rising and falling as though she had just woken from a nightmare. Her head was heavy, her heart uneasy, and an inexplicable feeling of dread weighed on her. The last thing she remembered was her death—brutal, sudden, and unfair. Her previous life, marked by endless struggles, isolation, and a tragic end, had abruptly ceased. Yet now, an even stranger reality greeted her.
She found herself in an opulent room. The high ceiling bore intricate frescoes, and crimson velvet curtains framed massive windows. Her gaze fell on her hands—delicate, pale, and elegant. These were not her hands. The woman she had been was anything but refined. Trembling, she rose to her feet and moved toward a mirror on the grand vanity across the room. What she saw in the polished surface made her gasp.
A stranger's face stared back at her. Flawless golden hair cascaded down delicate shoulders, framing a face with piercing blue eyes and porcelain skin. She touched her cheek, the cold glass reflecting her every move. This wasn't her.
Then it hit her like a wave. Memories—familiar yet alien—crashed into her mind, overwhelming her senses. She clutched her head as visions of another life, another person, flooded her thoughts. Elyse de Vernemont. The illegitimate daughter of Duke Reynard de Vernemont. A bastard despised by her family and ostracized by society. Worse yet, she was the villainess in a novel she had once read in her past life.
The novel! It all came rushing back. Elyse remembered the story she had devoured in her old life. The protagonist, Claris, was the epitome of perfection—kind, beautiful, and loved by everyone. Elyse, on the other hand, was the detestable villainess who met a cruel end. Rejected by her family, abandoned by everyone, and ultimately executed.
The realization sent her stumbling backward. "No… this can't be happening," she whispered, her hands trembling. She had been reincarnated as the villainess!
But as panic surged, another thought broke through. She knew the story. She knew how everything unfolded. That meant she could change it. She wouldn't let herself be executed like in the novel. No. If the world wanted her to be the villainess, she would play the role—but on her own terms.
Elyse stepped toward the grand window, looking out at the sprawling gardens of the Duke's estate. This was her chance—a second life. Survival would be her first priority. After that? She would rewrite everything.
"If I must be the villainess, I'll be the villainess who wins."