"Is this for real?!"
Marceline admired her beautiful face. "The last thing that I can remember is that I had a stroke after I wrote the initial chapters of my new book. My dying wish was to continue it and then suddenly, when I opened my eyes, I'm actually inside of my novel?!"
She stopped for a moment, and her lips suddenly curved into a wide smile. With dreamy eyes, she exclaimed, "This must be a dream!"
"Lady Marceline!"
Marceline flinched because of the sudden commotion and raised her eyebrow. "Jeez, you guys can knock, you know?"
"Your health is the utmost priority." The maid said coldly and stepped forward, guiding Marceline towards the bed. She then turned to the old man in robes she entered with. "Healer, please assess the lady's condition."
"If you'll let me..."
The old man approached Marceline and waved his hand across her face. Two yellow magic circles appeared, one larger and the other smaller, rotating accordingly to align with the runes woven into their respective arcane energies.
"Seems like the young lady is in normal condition," declared the doctor, retracting his magic.
Marceline remained silent, admiring and burning the magic she had witnessed in her brain. Her eyes were sparkling like a child.
"Oh..." The maid's eyebrow raised, looking unconvinced, recalling Marceline's strange behaviour. "Healer, are you really sure about this?"
"Yes, I am certain about this matter, Miss," assured the doctor, his gaze shifting to Marceline. "Lady Marceline, is there anything that makes you uncomfortable or causes you any discomfort that you'd like to tell me?"
Marceline blinked, suprised by the gentleness of the old man's voice, and cleared her throat.
"None that I am aware of, but I feel fine. Thank you," responded Marceline in a composed tone, making the maid shook her head with disbelief.
"Alright then, I'll be going."
"Thank you, healer!"
When the doctor had already left, the maid picked up her silver tray and gave Marceline a glass of water.
"Drink."
Marceline took a sip of the water and quenched the thirst she did not even know that she had. However, her eyes widened when she felt something strange about the liquid flowing inside her throat. The water had a rought texture and it tasted like mud. Her stomach churned out of disgust. Clasping it, she quickly expelled the water out of her mouth, sputtering and coughing as she struggled to get rid of that revolving taste.
"S-Sand?!"
Marceline jerked her head towards the maid and glared at her, but the maid only stared with full of contempt and even smirked, as if Marceline deserved that kind of treatment.
Marceline wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and composed herself. She stared intently at the maid with a blank expression.
"Go and get me another glass of water."
The maid rolled her eyes at Marceline's demand. With an exaggerated sigh, she turned on her heels and stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the corridor.
As she returned, her steps were as heavy as before. She then thrusted the glass toward Marceline, almost sloshing its contents towards her.
"Here you go."
Marceline accepted the glass of water and put it closer to her mouth. She darted the maid a glance and noticed how the maid narrowed her eyes at her, as if waiting for some sort of reaction.
Marceline calmly stood up and met the maid's gaze, seeing the menace in her eyes. Without even blinking, she lifted her hand and slapped the maid on the cheek with cruel force, causing her head to face the side of the impact.
The maid's eyes widened and tears stared to form at the edge of her eyes as she cupped her bruised cheek. She scowled at Marceline, whimpering like a victim.
"How dare you—"
Before the maid could finish what she was saying, Marceline grabbed the maid by the chin and forced her mouth open, pouring the toilet water down her throat. The maid gagged painfully, her knees trembling in fear.
Marceline threw the maid on the ground after she was satisfied and fixed her own hair, as if the trivial commotion disoriented her regal composure. She then peered down at the maid using her cold, aurora-colored eyes.
"Get out."
The maid stayed frozen, startled by the young lady's attitude. Marceline grew impatient and she walked closer to the maid, taunting her. "Leave! And do not dare to show your face to me again!"
Realizing the truth in Marceline's words, the maid hastily fled, desperate to escape the young lady's wrath. Her frantic dash down the corridor, with her screams and loud cries, caught the attention of the other servants in the castle, causing a rumor that would put their young lady in a bad light.
Marceline let out a sigh and sat on her bed, attempting to regain the energy she wasted on that girl.
"I need to get myself a new maid."
She gripped her trembling hands tightly, taking sharp breaths to suppress her intense emotions. She was not used to dealing with people like that maid, and as far back as she could remember, she would always handle those situations with a passive attitude.
What led her to act this way?
Lost in her thoughts, she began biting her fingernails. "This isn't okay. If it's my books that we are talking about, then there's nothing but danger here. That maid's attitude is not even the tip of the iceberg."
Marceline always loved writing dark fantasies with gore and thriller themes, but now that she reincarnated as the villainess of her own book, she was starting to have her doubts.
"Maybe there's a plot armor here or something. As the villainess, I'm only screwed when the protagonist comes along." She paused, finally realizing the gravity of her situation. "Wait, does that mean that I'll face doom too?"
"No no...let's stop thinking about that!" Marceline rubbed her face. "I'm pretty sure I can do something about that. I just need togather my thoughts first."
Marceline clutched her head and recalled the paper she had outlined the villainess' character traits.
"Marceline Avery Bellafiore..." She muttered her character's name. "I only had a vague idea of her character inside my head. I did not even get the chance to properly introduce her to the story, so she doesn't have her ending yet. Maybe there is a way for me to turn things around!"
She sighed. "But now that I am here in this world, how am I supposed to write this story? In the first place, how did I even get here? Who granted my dying wish?"
Her thoughts were interrupted when a dialogue box appeared across her chest.
[Welcome to the world of "The Princess of Destruction''. It is an uncompleted story with the crown princess, Regina, as the lead who has the power to bring about an apocalypse!
Would you like to continue writing this story?]
"Wow, I like the enthusiasm, but I'm inside my own novel. How am I supposed to write this? And 'Princess of Destruction?'" she scoffed and face palmed. "So cringe. Why did the system use that title? Stupid old me."
Marceline lowered her gaze to the two buttons she can choose from: Yes or No. This choice made Marceline wonder.
"What would happen if I say no?"
"Good question." Marceline almost jumped when she heard a gentle voice echoing inside her head. "If you say no, then you can return to your dead body and be stuck in oblivion."
"I'm really dead, huh?"
Marceline quickly discarded her thought to prevent herself from spiraling to sadness.
"Who are you? How did you do this to me?"
"Marceline Santos..." said the voice, hissing her name. "You wished for this, remember?"
"Fine, fair enough," agreed Marceline. "But I want to know who you are. I'd like to know who I am dealing with!"
"My identity is none of your concern, Marceline. I'm a system, as you said. If anything, perhaps, you are the one who created me."
"Stop talking in riddles. I only like them when I'm the one writing them," mumbled Marceline with a sarcastic tone. "Fine, if you truly do not want to reveal yourself, then that's okay with me. After all, despite the matter at hand, everything about this world is like a dream come true for an author like me."
Marceline did not hesitate further and quickly pushed the "Yes" button on the dialogue box. The voice within her head fell silent, and the dialogue box started typing.
[What you do from now on will shape the story you originally wrote. Nevertheless, modifications will be automatically implemented without further notice to ensure the story's smooth flow.]
"So basically, every move I make in this world will trigger a corresponding scenario to justify my series of choices? Alright, I understand that. I love spontaneity after all."
Marceline laid in her bed again, enjoying its comfort. "Besides, if this is my second chance at life, I'd rather live it to the fullest rather than overthinking all these things. I don't want to be stressed anymore."
"Oh, you're missing something," the mysterious voice suddenly cackled inside Marceline's head.
Marceline's frowned in confusion, but the system only continued with a dangerous tone.
"Most villains in every story are expected to meet their doom at the end. What makes your ending any different?"
****
Heading down for breakfast, Marceline noticed that she experienced little to no struggle in carrying her dress down the staircase of their castle. It made her wonder whether the system had already synchronized every quality and trait of a typical noble lady to her to match her character's background.
"Did that happen when I was asleep? The system may be lazy to orient me with what's happening in this world, but it's still doing its job, huh. Interesting."
In the real world, Marceline had an engineering job in the morning and dedicated her nights writing stories, and thus, she rarely engaged in physical tasks, let alone wear heels, but right in that moment, she found herself walking just fine.
Upon entering the dining room, Marceline found her parents already seated at the table. Her heart pounded inside her chest as she felt the brewing uneasiness inside of her, but she quickly composed herself.
"This is the house of Bellafiore. I can't afford to make a mistake."
Without a single word, she settled into the seat across from them.
"Good morning, Marceline." Her mother, the duchess, greeted her with a nonchalant smile. "I heard you are unwell. Is that true?"
"Yes, but it isn't something that you must worry about, father, mother," replied Marceline, glancing at both of her parents. "I am fine."
"Well, that is good to hear," remarked her father, the duke. "Your classes aren't going to finish themselves, don't they?"
Marceline twitched her eyebrow slightly upon hearing her father's words, but she quickly hid any hint of emotion.
"Yes, father."
Her character's relationship with her parents lacked warmth or kindness. In fact, according to the novelist's notes herself, her character shared a strained bond with them, influenced by the household's tendency to belittle those who were deemed as weak. In an environment where perfection is demanded, it shaped her to view minor shortcomings as flaws, swiftly disregarded without consideration for any signs of vulnerability or weakness. This significantly contributed to Marceline's horrible character in the story.
"Oh, my adorable little sister is here."
Marceline lifted her gaze and met those rose-colored eyes. Her skin crawled upon the sight.
"Cosmo..."
He smirked at her and lightly brushed his fingertips through the ends of her hair. "You do not look good, my little sister. Your maid left you again, isn't it? Shall I find you a new one?"
"Cosmo Raphael Bellafiore, he's the eldest son of the house of Bellafiore. There were two keywords that I indicated in his profile: Vile and vicious."
"Stop fooling around and sit down, Cosmo," their father ordered, bringing Marceline back to reality. Cosmo complied with a grin, taking his seat beside Marceline.
Marceline silently observed her brother. "Cosmo may be acting like a laid back bastard, but his words aren't empty. He meant them. He wanted to spy on me through that maid so he can make sure that I won't be a threat to him, ensuring his right to be the sole heir of the duke's title."
When everyone was finally seated, the maids served their breakfast and they all began eating.
"Cosmo, are you already aware of our plans for later?" inquired the father. "What happened to the documents I instructed you to prepare yesterday?"
"Yes, father. I dispatched the copies of the arcane diagrams to our workshop artisans yesterday, informing them that we would be discussing the specifics once we go there today."
The father froze, his fork suspended above his plate. "What do you mean we're only discussing them today? I already discussed with you the specifics of that project."
"I...I thought it would be better if we discussed it personally with them," Cosmo's voice wavered as his father's tone turned stern, realizing his grave mistake. "I apologize."
"I had higher expectations of you," the father said, which made Cosmos and his mother flinch. "I anticipated that upon our arrival, we would simply inspect the products and proceed to testing them. Such a waste of time!"
"Oh, what are they talking about?" Marceline continued to listen to his father and brother's conversation, remembering her notes if she had written a family business for the house of Bellafiore in the story.
"I understand, Father. It won't happen again," assured Cosmo, but his words meant nothing to the cold duke.
"Oh, I remember now. I think I have written in my worksheet that their business had something to do with magical tools!" Marceline finally remembered. "I plan to use my electronics engineering background to create those tools, so it makes sense why Cosmo would have a hard time handling that. Even I myself do not know how I will write that shit yet."
"I have a suggestion."
Marceline snapped out of her thoughts when her mother suddenly spoke. "I believe Cosmos had a lot of duties, and managing the workshop might overwhelm him at the moment," the mother said, wiping her lips with a napkin.
She then turned her head towards Marceline. "Why don't our little Marceline handle the workshop this time? Surely as the daughter of the house of Bellafiore, this must be a piece of cake."
"That woman!" Marceline kept her thoughts to herself. "She's trying to save my brother's face by turning father's disappointment towards me!"
"Ruth, have you gone insane? How can that useless piece of junk handle the workshop?"
Marceline couldn't even bring herself to swallow another bite. "What the hell?"
"Oh my, isn't this a chance to prove your worth again, Marceline? Hmm?"
The clinking sounds of forks and knives ceased at the mother's words. Marceline met her mother's gaze and it was cold as ice. On the other hand, her father and brother's attention were also focused on her, watching her every move.
Marceline simply nodded, understanding that the statement was not a suggestion, but an order.
"Yes, mother."
"Do not even bother, Marceline." The duke argued. "I do not expect anything from you."
He returned his gaze to his food and continued eating, not even giving a chance for Marceline to defend herself. "Now, let's finish the food before it gets cold."