Sleep took me without mercy.
Perhaps my mind simply refused to process everything anymore—new faces, strange titles, unfamiliar walls, and the unbearable truth that I was no longer in my world. It shut down like an overloaded machine.
When I opened my eyes again, reality greeted me cruelly.
Not my apartment.
Not my gray ceiling.
Soft morning light spilled through tall arched windows, illuminating pale blue walls decorated with intricate silver patterns. Everything looked too perfect. Too clean. Too wrong.
"…I didn't wake up," I whispered.
I sat up abruptly, clutching the blanket as panic crept up my spine. The room was empty. No footsteps. No voices. No strangers watching me.
The silence was unsettling—but also a relief.
Yesterday… that woman called me Evelyn.
The name echoed in my mind like a verdict.
I knew who I was.
Rhea Collins.
A college student. A reader. A fangirl.
Not Evelyn
My legs trembled as I slid off the massive bed and approached the mirror near the window. I didn't want to look—but I had to.
A child stared back at me.
Snow-white skin. Sapphire-blue eyes far too large for her face. Soft black hair falling loosely over narrow shoulders.
No scars. No exhaustion.
No trace of me.
"…Who are you?" my voice cracked.
I slapped my cheek hard.
Pain bloomed instantly.
"…Still real."
A shaky breath left my lips as I turned away from the mirror. The room was enormous—luxury beyond reason for a child. Silk curtains. Hand-carved furniture. Shelves full of books I couldn't even read yet.
So this is how nobles live…
The door creaked open.
A young woman stepped inside, dressed in a neatly pressed maid's uniform. She froze when she noticed me standing there, then quickly bowed.
"Good morning, young miss. The Duke and Duchess are awaiting you downstairs."
My heart dropped.
"…Duke and Duchess?"
No. No, no, no.
This wasn't just a fantasy world.
This was that world.
The maid frowned slightly, clearly sensing something amiss, but said nothing further before quietly retreating.
The door closed.
Then—
"Don't the words 'The Crown's Beloved' sound familiar to you?"
My blood ran cold.
I spun around, fists clenched.
"Who's there?!"
No one.
A soft laugh echoed from nowhere and everywhere at once.
"Oh, this reaction never gets old."
"Show yourself!" I snapped, taking a defensive stance despite my tiny body. "Or are you too much of a coward?"
Laughter rang louder.
"Relax. I'm not interested in fighting a child. Watching you panic is far more entertaining."
"…You dragged me here," I hissed. "Didn't you?"
Silence.
Then—
"Try not to die too early, Evelyn Ravenshade."
The voice vanished.
I collapsed against the wall, breathing hard.
Great. I'm being toyed with by some godlike narrator.
I searched the room frantically—behind curtains, inside drawers, under furniture. No hidden devices. No tricks.
That voice mentioned The Crown's Beloved.
The novel.
My hands shook.
I didn't die.
I remembered everything clearly. No pain. No accident.
Which meant—
I was transferred.
Classic isekai logic.
I found paper and a pen hidden in a drawer and forced myself to think logically.
"…Evelyn Ravenshade."The villainess.
Daughter of the Duke of Ravenshade.
Fiancée of the Crown Prince.
A disposable obstacle in the heroine's perfect story.
A girl who would be framed.
A girl who would be abandoned.
A girl who would die.
"…Unacceptable."
I scribbled everything I could remember—events, characters, power structures. The problem was simple and terrifying.
The novel wasn't finished.
Which meant—
My ending is unknown.
Evelyn Ravenshade:
Duke's daughter
Crown Prince's fiancée
Younger brother: Theo Ravenshade (future male lead)
Public villainess
Death: framed and discarded
"…I refuse."
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
Before I could react, a small hand grabbed mine.
I flinched.
A boy stood there, staring up at me with worried emerald eyes. He looked painfully familiar.
"Sis?" he asked softly. "Are you feeling better?"
Theo.
My brother.
I nodded stiffly.
"What are you writing?" he asked, glancing at the paper.
Panic surged. I folded it instantly and hid it.
"…Nothing important."
He frowned but didn't push.
"…Do you want to play?" I asked instead.
His face brightened immediately.
Leaving the room felt like stepping deeper into danger.
The manor was massive—white-and-blue hallways stretching endlessly, sunlight pouring through towering windows. Elegant. Oppressive.
I must have turned the wrong way because Theo suddenly tugged my hand.
"Sis, that's the west wing," he said. "We're not supposed to go there."
"Oh—sorry," I forced a smile. "Can you lead instead?"
He nodded.
We passed through gardens, fountains, and eventually—
"…A forest?"
"This is where we play," Theo said proudly. "There's a pond."
Strange fluffy creatures floated around us—round, winged beings like living clouds.
"…What are those?"
"Driftlings," he replied. "You really don't remember?"
"…I'm trying."
I reached out and touched one.
Warm. Soft.
For a moment, the fear faded.
"Sis," Theo said quietly, "you're different."
My heart clenched.
"My head still hurts," I lied. "That's all."
A knight eventually found us.
"You shouldn't wander without guards," he scolded gently. "Captain Rowan will be worried sick."
Lunch later was a battlefield of etiquette and silent observation.
That night, I wrote more notes.
And cried quietly into my pillow.
It took:
One month to stop flinching at mirrors
One week to stop panicking at unfamiliar faces
One year to fully accept Evelyn Ravenshade
I was five years old.
And I had a fate to overturn.
When I learned magic existed, hope sparked.
If I couldn't rely on fate—
I'd rely on power.
Swordplay came first.
My father hesitated.
My mother tested me.
But eventually—
Approval.
Limited.
Earned.
As I stood in the training grounds, wooden sword trembling in my small hands, one promise burned in my heart:
This villainess will not be sacrificed for someone else's happy ending.