When I opened my eyes, I was not in my apartment.
No beige walls. No buzzing aircon. No stack of ramen cups by the bed.
Instead, there was silk above me—red velvet curtains embroidered with golden vines—and a chandelier that screamed old money. The scent of roses mixed with lavender made me sneeze.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
I sat up quickly and regretted it just as fast. My chest felt heavier than usual. I looked down and gasped.
A corset?
Long sleeves?
And... cleavage I most definitely did not have last night?
I scrambled out of bed and ran to the mirror. What I saw nearly made me faint.
Jet-black hair cascading down in perfect waves, violet eyes rimmed with long lashes, skin as flawless as porcelain.
It wasn't me. It was her.
Lady Evelyne Renestra.
The villainess of The Duke's Last Dance.
A woman so iconic, so fashionably wicked, she got stabbed in chapter 10 by the heroine's fan-favorite brother.
"No," I whispered, backing away from the mirror. "This isn't real."
But the door burst open with a loud knock, and a maid rushed in.
"Milady, the Countess is expecting you for tea! Please don't make her wait again."
Again.
Oh God. This wasn't a dream. This was a nightmare.
Status Update
Host: Evelyne Renestra
Fate: Death by assassination
Timer: 30 days
Objective: Survive
Penalty for Failure: Permanent soul erasure
A glowing screen flashed in the air before me like a translucent hologram, and I did what anyone would do.
I screamed.