Five days had passed since the fever began to ravage this small body. By the time I could finally sit up and breathe in the fresh air drifting through the bedroom window, the world in my eyes had changed completely.
The fragmented memories of Lillian de Valois had fully merged with my soul. Now, I was Lillian. I could feel the sharp sting of her pain, the weight of her pride, and the sweetness of her memories. Memories that I now knew were nothing more than gilded traps.
The House of de Valois was one of the empire's pillars. My father, Grand Duke Cyrus de Valois, was a god of war who held absolute loyalty to the Emperor. They had been close friends since childhood, facing life and death together on the battlefield. Because of that bond, I had been granted special privileges since I was a child, allowed to wander the imperial palace at will, studying and growing up alongside Crown Prince Alistair as his childhood sweetheart.
But the human heart is a fickle, unpredictable thing. Behind the facade of trust, the Emperor had long viewed my father as a thorn in his side. The power of the de Valois family was too immense, my father's reputation too high. nd most crucially, the Emperor had been nurturing a obsessive jealousy from deep within his past.
Duchess Evelyn was the Emperor's unrequited first love, a woman he could never possess. He hated his best friend not just for his power, but because that man possessed the woman he craved most.
And then, the tragedy unfolded exactly like the script of a madman.
To seize my mother for himself, the Emperor orchestrated a sham coup. He tricked my father into leading his troops into the palace to "rescue" him, but it was a trap set for a charge of high treason. The House of de Valois was branded traitors overnight. Their entire estate was seized, and my father was publicly beheaded before thousands of spectators.
But my mother did not die. The Emperor locked her away in a dark, hidden chamber beneath the imperial palace, using forbidden magic to wipe her memories, turning her into a toy that belonged to him alone.
In the original novel, Lillian was supposed to have perished in that purge. She was only saved by the sacrifice of her loyal head maid, who swapped Lillian with her own biological daughter so the girl could escape. With her final breath, that woman brought the eleven-year-old Lillian to the foot of the Magic Tower, entrusting her to Archmage Caspian Vesper before collapsing from exhaustion.
From that moment on, the journey of a Villainess began.
Initially, Caspian intended to throw Lillian out because he despised nuisances. But when he saw the staggering magical talent hidden within the crimson eyes, he changed his mind. Lillian grew up steeped in hatred, training her magic with a frantic desperation for the sole purpose of revenge to wash away the stain of dishonor from her father's name.
But who told her she had to be the Villainess in a reverse harem novel? Every one of Lillian's attempts at vengeance was twisted by the author into acts of cruelty and jealousy. In the end, she died by the swords of the male leads captivated by the Saintess, Celestia. Her revenge unfulfilled, her family's name unvenged, and her mother still trapped in that cellar. Lillian's soul had died in an agony that could reach the heavens.
Thinking of this, I let out a soft sigh, my hands clutching the silk blanket.
Lillian, you weren't a villainess. If this had been any other novel, you would have been a fierce protagonist on a proud path of retribution.
Click.
The sound of the door opening cut through my thoughts. A woman stepped inside, bringing with her the delicate scent of morning roses.
"My dear daughter, how are you feeling? Do you feel a bit more rested?"
I froze.
The woman who had just entered was my mother, Duchess Evelyn. Looking at her, I finally understood why the Emperor was so obsessed with her. She was so beautiful it stole the breath from your lungs. A pure, gentle beauty, like an angel stepping out of a painting.
Her golden hair was styled in intricate curls, and her sky-blue eyes sparkled with joy at seeing me awake. Her tenderness radiated throughout the room, making everything feel unnervingly warm. In stark contrast to my own fiery, sharp radiance, my mother was like a cool, refreshing spring. Truly, I hadn't inherited a single bit of her delicate, ethereal grace.
A bitter thought flashed through my mind. The Saintess, Celestia, who would appear later on, looked remarkably like my mother. So that was why the Emperor favored her so much. He didn't care for the Saintess at all; he was merely in love with my mother's shadow reflected in her. It was a classic case of loving the shadow for the sake of the light, except his love was placed on a puppet used to trample over my family.
As I watched my mother reach out to touch my forehead with concern, my heart twinged. At this moment, the tragedy had not yet struck. My father was still alive, my mother still had her memories, and the House of de Valois was still an uncrowned dynasty.
"Mother... I'm fine now." I smiled, my voice still a bit weak.
Evelyn sat down on the edge of the bed, her touch feather-light as she tenderly stroked my hair. I leaned into her warmth, pressing my cheek against her palm while I listened to the gentle, loving cadence of her voice as she fussed over me.
In my past life, I had never known the warmth of family, yet the moment I arrived here, I was showered with this much love. To think that in less than a year, this hard-won warmth would vanish.
I couldn't let it happen. If I had transmigrated here, there had to be a reason. I couldn't let my foreknowledge go to waste.
I had to save my father at all costs and protect my mother from the Emperor's filthy hands. And most importantly, I had to stay alive.