My feet pounded against the cold stone floor, heart hammering so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. My vision blurred, my ears still ringing with the sound of breaking bones and muffled screams. Fear clawed at my throat, strangling me, but I kept running.

I have to find Kairan. I have to survive.

But then, shadows shifted ahead of me. Two figures emerged from the darkness, blocking my way. Their cloaks billowed unnaturally, black mist curling around their forms. The glow of their magic pulsed ominously, crackling like living darkness in their hands.

I skidded to a halt, my breath catching. My legs trembled, my fingers numb.

No. No, no, no.

They took slow steps toward me. Like they knew I had nowhere to run. Like they knew I was trapped.

"Shit," I whispered. My voice barely came out.

One of them lunged, his hand snapping toward me. I yanked back, but his grip caught my wrist, burning like frostbite and fire all at once. His strength was monstrous. I couldn’t break free.

"Let go!"

No. No, I can’t die here. I can’t.

My vision blurred, fear sinking its claws into my chest, tightening until I could barely breathe. My body locked up, my mind screaming at me to run, to fight....anything. But I couldn’t move.

Then, in the dim torchlight, something caught my eye. A sword. Rusted, blackened with age, hanging loosely on the wall just a few feet away. My stomach twisted. If I could just reach it…

Grab it. Grab it!

I forced my body to act before my mind could stop me. With a desperate jerk, I twisted in his grip, wrenching my arm free just enough to lunge sideways. My fingers stretched, barely brushing the sword’s hilt. Too far.

The man snarled, his grip tightening again. I gasped in pain, but I threw my weight forward, kicking off the wall for momentum. My fingers closed around the sword, and with one last burst of strength, I ripped it from the rusted hooks.

The weight of it nearly unbalanced me. It was old, worn, the edge dulled by time, but it was still heavy. Still solid. A weapon.

The sword didn’t slide in like in the movies. It crunched against bone, resisted, like the body itself refused to die. My arms rattled from the impact, and for a sickening moment, I thought I’d drop it.

Oh God. Oh God.

His fingers tightened around my wrist and yanked me forward like I was weightless. My stomach lurched. My breath came in panicked gasps. He was too strong.

I’m going to die.

A sob caught in my throat, but I forced my legs to move. I had to do something. I couldn’t let him kill me. With a desperate cry, I stopped pulling away and shoved forward, driving the sword toward his collarbone.

It didn’t go in smoothly. It stuck, caught against something, but I pushed harder, using my whole body. The sickening crunch of bone snapping sent a shudder through me. His grip loosened.

I yanked free, stumbling back, barely holding onto the sword. My hands were wet. Blood? My blood? I couldn’t tell. I wanted to throw up. My arms shook so badly I could hardly lift the weapon again.

But he was still moving. He could still get up. He was healing himself. If I hesitated, he’d kill me.

Tears blurred my vision as I raised the sword and swung down with everything I had left. The blade met flesh. Blood, so much blood, splattered across my arms, my chest. His eyes widened in shock. He gurgled, mouth opening like he wanted to speak. Then he collapsed.

I staggered back, shaking so hard my teeth clattered. My chest heaved. I could barely breathe. I wanted to drop the sword and run, but my legs wouldn’t move.

A surge of magic slammed into my side.

Pain exploded through my ribs as I crashed to the floor, gasping. Before I could even process it, a hand clamped around my throat and hauled me up.

I choked, my hands clawing desperately at the fingers squeezing my windpipe. My legs kicked uselessly. My lungs screamed for air.

No! please, no!

Tears pricked at my eyes. I couldn’t reach my sword. I couldn’t breathe. My fingers scrabbled at his wrist, at his arm, anything. My vision blurred, darkened.

I don’t want to die.

Panic took over. I flailed wildly, fingers grasping for something, anything. My thumb found the edge of his eye socket, and I shoved as hard as I could.

He roared in pain, his grip loosening just enough for me to slip free. I hit the ground hard, coughing, wheezing. My body screamed in agony, but I had no time to recover, he was already lunging again.

Move. Move.

I scrambled backward, my hands slipping in blood. My sword? Where is it?

There.

I snatched it up just as he raised his hand. My body was too slow, too weak. I wouldn’t be fast enough this time.

I did the only thing I could. I lunged.

The blade rammed into his chest, not cleanly, not smoothly. It stuck again but I shoved harder, screaming as I put all my weight into it.

His body jerked violently. His hands clawed at my arms. I twisted the sword. A strangled sound tore from his lips. His legs buckled. He collapsed.

I stared at him, gasping, my whole body trembling. I should run. I should leave. But I couldn’t move.

They would’ve killed me.

A broken sob tore out of me, and suddenly, I was hitting him. Fist to his face. Again. And again.

“You were going to kill me!” My voice cracked.

My knuckles stung, but I didn’t care. I grabbed his collar with both hands and slammed his head against the stone floor. Blood smeared beneath him. I did it again. And again. My arms shook, my breaths coming in frantic, hiccupping gasps. My whole body ached, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop.

I sobbed, loud and messy, my chest heaving so hard it hurt. The adrenaline was gone, leaving nothing but exhaustion and terror in its place. My hands slipped from his shirt as my strength gave out, and I crumpled back against the wall, curling in on myself.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

I just wanted Kairan.

I wanted him to be here, to hold me, to tell me I was okay, that it was over.

But he wasn’t.

Tears blurred my vision. They were endless. I bit my lip, trying to hold them back, but I couldn’t. A broken sob tore out of me, then another, then another. I covered my mouth, but it did nothing to muffle the sound.

I needed to get out of here. I needed to move.

But all I could do was sit there, sobbing, surrounded by two dead men, their blood smeared all over me.

Kairan always saved me.

I never truly understood what it meant to take a life, how it tore through you, how it made you feel sick and hollow all at once. Not until now.

Less than a year ago, I had died alone in a crumbling house, too weak to fight. Now, I was drenched in blood, my hands shaking from taking a life just to survive.

In a worn-out mattress on a creaking bedframe, the smell of damp wood. I was poor, forgotten, my body failed me with every passing day. There was no one left to save me. No one to care.

But now, here I was, alive in a different world, my hands drenched in blood that wasn’t mine. My chest heaved, my breath shaky and uneven.

I killed someone. I fought to live.

And for the first time, I wasn’t sure which death was worse.

I was dead. Or at least, my body was.Lying on my deathbed, the struggle against pneumonia that spiraled into sepsis, and then, the organs just giving up one by one.

I fell. Not in a physical sense, but in a way that made my stomach lurch and my skin crawl. An endless abyss swallowed me whole, its darkness stretching beyond anything I could comprehend. A voice, hazy, fragmented, echoed through the void.

"You need to..."

"Your..." 

"You are..." before everything went black again.

When I drifted back into consciousness, the first thing was the softness beneath me, too unreal, like sinking into a cloud. Warm, golden light danced behind my closed eyelids, far too gentle to belong to the dim, flickering bulb in Grandma’s room

I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming. The air smelled different, clean, faintly sweet. There was no damp, no dust. Everything felt… vast. Open.

Slowly, I forced my eyes open, and the world that met me was nothing like the one I had left behind. The ceiling stretched high above, gleaming with gold and intricate patterns that blurred at the edges. A shimmer of light danced from something above, a chandelier? The walls curved outward, endless, lined with shapes I couldn’t quite make out.

It was beautiful. Surreal.

And completely unfamiliar.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, expecting the familiar weakness, the paralysis that had stolen my ability to walk.

Instead, my feet touched the floor. Solid. Steady. I was standing.

A sharp inhale caught in my throat. My body, the one I had known, had been fragile, decaying. But now… I was moving.

Shaken, I turned toward the mirror.

And froze.

That wasn’t my face.

Instead, a woman with red hair stared back at me.

My breath hitched. My hand shot to my cheek. wrong. Too smooth. Too unfamiliar. The woman in the mirror had vibrant red hair, delicate features, and wide, startled eyes.

I stumbled backward, my legs tangling in the soft sheets. The mattress tilted beneath me, and I crashed onto the floor with a gasp. The bedside lamp toppled over, shattering against the polished floor.

The door burst open. A group of women, dressed in black gowns and aprons, rushed in.

“Lady Meredia!” they gasped in unison. "You woke up!"

Their hands were on me, helping me up, their eyes filled with concern.

Lady?

Panic clawed at my throat.

Where am I?

Why are they calling me a Lady?

The room blurred. My vision wavered, darkness creeping at the edges again.

No. No, no, no. I am dying again—

Black.

When I came to, I was alone.

I was back in the bed. The sheets were too smooth, the mattress too soft, swallowing me whole. A faint breeze stirred the air, carrying the scent of something unfamiliar. My head felt heavy, my thoughts sluggish, but panic pushed me forward.

I sat up, my breath unsteady. The room was too large, too grand. nothing like where I should be. A glimpse of gold caught my eye, a mirror? A door? It didn’t matter.

I swung my legs over the edge, my bare feet hitting the cool floor. The room spun as I stood, but I forced myself toward the door, my pulse pounding. I had to get out.

I gripped the handle and pulled.

Two guards stood outside, their uniforms crisp, their gazes sharp as they turned to me.

"Lady Meredia?"

The deep voice sent a shiver down my spine. One of the guards stiffened, his hand instinctively moving toward the sword at his side. The other, slightly younger, studied me with sharp eyes, his brow furrowing.

"Are you feeling... well?"

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening on the door handle. These men weren’t just standing guard. They looked powerful. The taller one was built like a fortress, broad-shouldered, his dark eyes assessing me like I was a puzzle he couldn't quite piece together. The other, still taller than me, had a leaner frame. Their uniforms were pristine, the metal of their weapons gleaming even in the dim light.

"What happened?" the younger one asked, his gaze flicking over me with something between curiosity and suspicion.

My pulse thundered in my ears. Lady? Nothing about this felt real. The grand room, the unfamiliar reflection, the way they spoke to me like I belonged here. I had to figure out where I was, what had happened, but right now, all I could manage was a breathless, "I… I’m fine. I think I just need to understand what’s going on."

The guards exchanged a glance. The taller one hesitated before stepping back. “If you need anything, just let us know. We’re here to help.”

My hands were clammy as I slowly stepped away from the door, my heart still hammering against my ribs. The hallway stretched endlessly, lined with gilded sconces and paintings too rich, too foreign. This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

But the cold floor beneath my feet, their gazes, and the quiet hum of a world I didn’t recognize told me the terrifying truth.

I wasn’t waking up from this nightmare anytime soon.

The first shocker was that my appearance was completely changed. I now had mane of red hair like ruby, lighter at the forehead, darker at the ends, like a reverse ombré gone wild. And my eyes? They were a striking golden, like someone decided to put snake eyes in a disco ball. They shine so brightly that the sun would practically shout, "Back off!" when I step outside.

The second surprise was the "Lady" tag. Apparently, I was a young Lady, like a princess somewhere, and my name... well, I'm still working on that.

"Meredia?"

A persistent voice kept calling behind me. Who's Meredia? Why isn't she answering?

"Mery? Listen."

"Mery?"

It was like a broken record. I tried to ignore it and keep walking, but the voice kept dogging me.

Finally, I turned around and a middle-aged woman stood behind me. She was somehow both elegant and motherly. Her smile could probably charm a grumpy cat.

She approached, took my hands in hers, and said, "Meredia, where are you going? You aren't even responding to your mother."

Oh, I'm Meredia. The owner of this body was apparently a high status lady, and this warm, charming woman is her mother aka my mother now.

I guess I'm now royalty, complete with a new name and a fabulous hairdo. What a way to start a new life!

She had a familiar shade of brown hair and gold eyes as mine, with a face that rarely shows a wrinkle. She looked so serene, peaceful, and fragile, yet elegant and classy, as if she could command attention without saying a word.

I couldn't let her know I wasn't her real daughter. I could not let anyone know about who I was. "Mother, I-"

Suddenly, it felt like a video reel started playing in my mind, and it was excruciating. Flashing images surged through my head, each one more vivid and painful than the last.

"Ahhh!" I screamed as I collapsed onto the floor.

The woman rushed to my side, her face etched with panic. "Meredia! What happened? What's wrong, my child? Guards! Call the doctor! Help!"

The pain was like a drumbeat pounding in my skull, accompanied by a relentless parade of images.

Faces! So many faces! A girl playing with her toys, her mother dressing her up, her beaming smile as she sat on her father's shoulders.

The most piercing memory was her listening in on her family's conversations, hidden just behind the door.

No. No. These weren't just random images, they were the memories of the real owner of this body: Meredia. Her life, her experiences, all flooding into my consciousness. It was overwhelming, but it was clear, these were Meredia's memories.

I came to with a pounding head and Meredia’s memories sitting heavy. They weren’t just flashes anymore, they’d taken root.

Meredia Seraphine Valtoria was the daughter of Duke Oberon of Solterra. She was incredibly beautiful, but her intellect left much to be desired. Despite being adored by her family, her father, the Duke, her mother, and her brother, they were constantly frustrated by her lack of practicality and wisdom in the matters of the palace and dukedom.

One night, Meredia overheard her family discussing their worries about her future and their reputation. Unable to bear the thought of being a burden, she attempted to end her life with poison, but when it didn't work, she sliced her ulnar arteries, the so-called veins.

And so, here I am, not only reborn but transmigrated into her body.

But.... Wait it isn't just about adapting to a new life. It's more than that. Think, think. Think of what I'm missing out.

Wait... I could remember hazy fragments only.

When I was a child, my grandma used to feed me fantastical stories. She dreamed of becoming an author and often recited fairytales to me, stories of beautiful, impoverished women and princes who fell in love, overcoming villains to live happily ever after.

You might wonder how this related to me.

I, Meredia, was actually the wife of the villain. But here's where it got hilariously absurd— Meredia's story didn't even make it into the fairytales my grandma used to tell. She just popped up at the end as a last minute cameo, like a surprise guest at the villain's going-away party, to deliver a final lesson on karma.

And get this, Meredia didn't die of something mundane like sickness, old age, or childbirth. Nope! She was killed by her monstrous husband, the villain himself. Talk about an unwelcome plot twist! It was like being cast in a serial and finding out I was the one who got killed off in the most dramatic way possible.

I scratched my head furiously, sobbing dramatically.

Why, God? Why do I have to die in every life?

Of course, I couldn't let out a full-blown cry because Meredia's mom, who was more like a concerned guardian than a comforting figure, was snoozing beside me. She decided to camp out next to me, fearing my head might explode like a firework.

Why talk behind your daughter's back if you care so much?

I gave her a side-eye as I clambered out of bed and made my way to the balcony. Peeking out from this palace, which felt like a luxurious prison with extra steps, I had to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

There was nothing but darkness. The wind rustled the curtains behind me, making them flutter like they were auditioning for a part in a dramatic play. It was so peaceful, it made me yearn for the chaos of the modern world.

Wait, modern world? This place is like a fantasyland straight out of Grandma's bedtime stories!

I felt like yelling up to the universe, "WHY, GRANDMA? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO KILL MEREDIA? WHY, OH WHY, MOTHER OF MY FATHER? WHAT DID SHE EVER DO TO YOU? WAS IT FOR THE PLOT TWIST? WAAAAAAHAAAAAAA!"

Honestly, it was like my life had turned into a soap opera, and I was stuck in the middle of a really bad season finale.

And, of course, just when I was about to unleash a full-on dramatic breakdown, Meredia's mother woke up.

"Meredia? Are you okay?"

I turned to her, quickly swapping my poker face for a bright, exaggerated smile. I guessed I would need to get used to this, Meredia's default mode seemed to be grinning like she was perpetually in a toothpaste commercial.

I would need to get used to this, Meredia’s default mode seemed to be grinning like she was perpetually in a toothpaste commercial.

“I’m fine, Mother,” I replied, my face aching from the effort of maintaining the smile. “Just enjoying the night breeze.”

She smiled back, relieved, and settled down again.

Great. Now I have to pretend to be a constantly cheerful princess while figuring out how to survive in a story where I’m destined to die a horrible death.

Awesome. Just awesome.

Once The Duchess fell back to sleep, I returned to the balcony, sitting on chair kept there. It was starting to feel like a gilded cage. I need a plan to avoid Meredia’s tragic fate.

“Alright, think,” I muttered to myself. “How do I avoid becoming a Villain Bait?”

First things first: avoid the villain at all costs. Impossible, hahaha!  Second: get smarter or at least pretend to be. I could manage that. Surely I could outwit a few nobles.

I left my room, leaving the sleeping beauty of Duchess behind. As I ventured out of my room, I was immediately confronted by the two guards stationed outside. Why did I need guards when no one else did? Was this some kind of overprotective security measure?

The left guard, startled to see me, asked, “Lady Meredia, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

I plastered my most charming smile. “Yes, thank you for asking.”

The right guard chimed in, “Do you need anything?”

“Ah, yes…” I began, putting on my best dramatic flair. “I’d like to visit the library.”

I didn’t actually know where the library was, so I needed their help.

“Ah, I’m feeling so faint,” I dramatically placed the back of my hand on my forehead. “Could you take me there, or I might faint!”

The guards exchanged baffled looks, their jaws almost hitting the floor. They stared at me as if I’d just asked them for the secrets of the universe.

“Lady, you mean the library? Are you sure?” one of the guards asked, blinking as if I’d just asked for a unicorn.

I kept my clueless smile and nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir.”

The other guard shot a look at his partner and then back at me. “The library, the place with all the books?”

I nodded again, my smile stretching.

Their faces were a mix of astonishment and panic, like I’d requested a dragon ride. My grin turned into a full-on “I’m about to perform magic” beam. “Sir, is something wrong?”

Guard 1, looking concerned, asked, “Lady, are you sure you’re feeling okay? Do you still have a fever?”

“No, sir. I’m perfectly fine,” I assured them.

Guard 2, clearly flustered, muttered, “Lady, you and the library never come in same—”

Before he could finish, Guard 1 elbowed him so hard he tumbled to the ground, groaning like he was hit by a boulder.

Guard 1 quickly waved his hand. “Forgive him, lady. He’s just a new recruit and hasn’t yet learned that you never mention the library in your presence.”

Ah, it all made sense now. Meredia, known as the “Dazzle Dame” or “Lady Lush,” had a reason for her titles. She probably went to the library only on the 30th of February, an impossibility in any world, but clearly, I’d stumbled into some unspoken palace rule.

To avoid any further confusion, I dramatically sighed, “Ah, the tireless sirs of Solterra. I’ve come to realize I don’t want to be a burden to my dear kingdom anymore.”

"I want to prove myself useful for my kingdom," I declared with a few strategically shed crocodile tears, making my eyes as doe-like as possible. If there were a “Pick Me” contest in the modern world, I'd win hands down.

"I... I... Thank you all for taking care of me all my life. I want to do something for Solterra and for all of you."

The young and overly sentimental guards were immediately moved. The one on the floor began sobbing, whether it was from the speech or the bruises, I couldn’t quite tell.

The first guard's eyes turned into a dramatic cartoon-cat look, melting with emotion. "Oh my god, our princess grew up so fast."

"I remember seeing her in the garden all day, not caring about anything in the world," he sniffled. "I thought she would never be useful to our kingdom, but you proved everyone wrong."

The sobbing guard added, “I always knew the princess was more than just beauty.”

This was beyond embarrassing. Meredia's reputation was a wild mix of controversy and sympathy. I smiled, realizing their reactions were genuine. They really wanted Meredia to improve.

“Escort me to the library, please,” I said, still playing the role of the newfound noble.

He wiped his tears, regaining his composure. “Yes, princess. Whatever you say.”

The guard straightened up, his sniffles reduced to occasional hiccups. The other guard somehow managed to roll himself upright, gave a heroic nod and motioned for me to follow.

As we made our way through the palace, I couldn’t help but notice the guards' dramatic gestures and expressions. They seemed to be treating me like I’d just won the Nobel Prize, rather than simply asking for directions.

We passed ornate tapestries and glittering chandeliers, and it felt like I was starring in a royal parade. I tried to keep up my serious demeanor, but it was difficult when the guard leading me dramatically swung open every door like he was revealing the secret to eternal life.

When we finally arrived at the library, I was amazed to find it was even more magnificent than I'd imagined. Rows and rows of books, some of which I hoped were more interesting than the melodrama I just witnessed.

I peered inside, trying to look impressed. "Thank you, sirs. You’ve been most helpful. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to start my journey to becoming the kingdom's greatest scholar."

The guards nodded vigorously, like bobblehead dolls. "If you need anything, Princess, anything at all, just let us know. We’ll be here, guarding the door, waiting to cry with pride."

With that, they left, and I was finally alone. I let out a relieved sigh and wandered inside. This library was like a treasure trove of secrets waiting to be uncovered. Or at least, I hoped it was.

I picked a random book, opened it, and found myself staring at the ancient text. Perfect. It was time to start my new role as the most educated princess in history, one who was also skilled in dodging villains and, hopefully, avoiding any more melodramatic guard reactions.