The ballroom was massive, glowing under crystal chandeliers. Couples danced in the center, their movements were smooth, almost perfect, forcing me to think how much time they all would have spent to show off their skills. Or to attract the opposite genders.
Everything looked exactly how I had imagined it, which made my chest tighten. The fact that this was not just similar, but identical to the last details, made me realize. Every bad thing I wrote… was real too or was about to become true.
Last week, when I opened my eyes and found myself in this world, I couldn't express how ecstatic the feeling was. By world, I meant the world of my novel, "I Fell in Love with a Duke."
A world I built from nothing, but late sleepless nights, cheap ramen, and pages filled with scribbles no one ever bothered to read. Back then, it was my escape. My little victory in a life where I barely had control over anything.
And for a moment… just a moment, I thought...Maybe this was a blessing.
But.
There's always a but, especially when it comes to my wish coming true. I read several books about people becoming the main lead or villainess of the novel.
I might have been content with either of them. Though I neither became the main lead, Selene MoonCrest, the daughter of a count, nor the villainess Josephine Valmont, who was rich as hell, the precious sister of the duke, but became a side character.
Irene Solyne. The daughter of a rich merchant. The sidekick of the villainess.
Josephine was obsessed with keeping her brother to herself.
Marcus Valmont, the duke's attention shifted to Selene. Josephine couldn't bear it. She had to do something, also keeping her innocent act in front of her brother, she chose Irene as her pawn.
In Irene's eyes, Josephine was a goddess. Kind, merciful, and filled with humility. From her point of view, she became an acquaintance of Josephine. So, she obeyed every order of hers. From throwing indirect remarks to intentionally creating a scene and insulting Selene in public, she did it all.
Their bondage seemed to get stronger until Josephine asked her to poison Selene at their engagement party. Irene hesitated yet couldn't defy the orders. So, she did it and mixed some poison in Selene's drink.
Like the climax everyone expected, and needed, and they got. She got caught after Selene took a sip. When interrogated by Duke's knight, she revealed Josephine's plan, but Josephine denied it. With her act, she was convinced that Irene was the mastermind behind all of it.
Irene's parents also disowned her to protect their name. With no family or friends, she was devastated and was executed in front of the kingdom, setting an example for treachery.
This was the end of my novel's first season.
I gulped down the lump formed in my throat as I caressed my throat. My gaze unconsciously drifted across the ballroom again. This was not any other ball, but the engagement party of Selene and Marcus.
Now that I was in Irene's body, I might face the same fate or change the plot entirely to survive. The second option was the only choice left with me, as dying again was not on my current to-do list.
This leads to only two options: leaving the premises immediately, or hiding in this big mansion until the party was over, because if Irene was not present at the party, Josephine wouldn't get the chance to hand that poison to me.
And about her executing the plan on herself, I designed her to be too smart to rush things like that. "Stay close, you brat," Jenna, or my mother, muttered under her breath, harshly grabbing me by the arm, "Can't you see this is a big opportunity for us. Don't do anything which could harm our image."
I stiffened at her grip, her nails biting into my skin through the lace of my dress. Of course. Even here, even now, Irene Solyne was never more than an accessory. A mere convenient extension of her parents' ambition.
"I know," I murmured, lowering my gaze obediently. Old habits surfaced frighteningly fast. Either it was Irene's or my own instincts. They seemed to be quite similar in this matter.
Don't argue. Bow your head. Blend in.
I might have done the same thing this time, too, but my mind was racing. To me, this ballroom was a beautifully decorated execution ground where a twist was about to occur.
I let myself be dragged forward by Jenna. Coming closer to the center, where warm candlelight reflected off marble floors and jeweled gowns. The sound of instruments grew, gliding softly and romantically.
I kept praying in my mind as my eyes searched for Josephine. If she saw me before, then it would become more difficult to get out of here. Unexpectedly, the music stopped, and a hush rippled through the hall; whispers stopped.
Something felt not quite right. I tried to figure out this weird feeling when an officiant came forward and announced, "The lovely couple of the evening has arrived."
Shit! They were here.
Selene MoonCrest, my lovely female lead, appeared first, glowing in an ivory gown embroidered with silver threads that caught the light like falling stars. She looked exactly as I had written her. She had a gentle smile, calm eyes, and grace that demanded no effort.
Then on her side came Marcus Valmont. Tall, broad-shouldered, with black silky hair, his dark uniform sharp against her softness. His gaze never left her, as if the world beyond her simply did not exist.
I was almost awed in appreciation of my imagination when another figure appeared.
I swallowed hard. She was here.
Josephine Valmont, the villainess of my story, now stood in front of me. The cause of my coming death stepped in beside them.
A flawless smile etched upon her lips. Pale blue dress, modest cut, dark hair pinned just so. The devoted sister. The loving, noble lady.
The devil I created.
My fingers curled into my skirt.
Her eyes moved from one corner to another, as if her eyes were in search of someone. At last, her eyes landed on me, clearly indicating that someone was none but me. Irene Solyne, her favorite pawn.
A spark of satisfaction flickered in her sharp eyes. People who did not observe might take it as their imagination, but not me. Definitely not the one who shaped her personality.
I felt sick.
Taking steps, she walked towards me. "You finally made it, my dear friend," she greeted in her sugary sweet voice, which sent shivers down my spine.