IDWP 2

Chapter: 2

Panting, she raked her fingers through her hair like a madwoman.

“So I reincarnate into a book, and I end up as a background villain? And not just that—a villainess who gets written out after tormenting the female lead out of jealousy? Aaagh, this is so damn annoying!”

Elodie’s rage didn’t stop there.

“How is it that Ophelia, that idiot, is the protagonist, and I’m just an extra? I absolutely refuse to accept this!”

Still fuming, she suddenly seemed to think of something and muttered in a slightly lower voice.

“Right. I’m the only one in this world who knows the story. Doesn’t that mean I can change fate? Maybe I can become the protagonist myself?”

A blissful smile briefly appeared on her face—then faded.

“Wait. Then does that mean I’d have to go through all of Ophelia’s misfortunes? Every single miserable thing the protagonist suffers? I don’t like that… But maybe it’s necessary for the story to progress.”

Murmuring to herself, she suddenly widened her eyes as if she’d had a brilliant idea.

“No. Do I really have to be the one to suffer?”

She began to snicker.

“As long as the incidents happen, the story will move forward anyway—so why bother! Ophelia can take all the misfortune, and I’ll take the happy future. That’ll make an even more perfect story than the original!”

Her eyes gleamed like a lunatic’s, greed overflowing beyond restraint.

“I guess I should be even nicer to Ophelia from now on. That’ll make her easier to use.”

Elodie’s monologue ended there. A voice calling her from afar interrupted her private moment.

“Elodie! The head maid is looking for you!”

It was me—my past self—working as a maid.

“Tsk, what a pain… No, no. Pull yourself together.”

Hiding her irritation, Elodie put on a bright smile and headed that way.

Only then did a memory from long ago surface.

The time when Elodie, who had subtly disliked me without showing it, suddenly erased that side of herself and began treating me kindly and warmly.

‘Back then, I was just happy… so there really was a reason.’

Elodie was truly a precious friend to me.

She protected the secret behind my tears, which I had confessed with great difficulty. Even when it was revealed that Elodie was actually a lost noble lady, she still treated me as her friend.

Though our births were different, I believed friendship could overcome the wall of status between us.

People around Elodie often pointed fingers at me, saying I was an obstacle to her—but she was precious enough that I could endure that level of humiliation without complaint.

I believed I was that kind of person to Elodie as well.

But apparently, I wasn’t.

The proof was a single worn notebook—one I had never been allowed to see, even as her closest friend.

Elodie was surrounded by good people.

The Duke of Hexwood family, who sincerely loved their returned daughter; the temple that revered the saintess; the crown prince who loved his beloved; and many others who admired her abilities and character and chose to follow her.

It was only natural that they felt hostility toward me—the one who had tried to kill her.

But while my mind understood, my heart was deeply wounded.

They were supposed to be my family, my destined lover, my friends?

I simply couldn’t believe it.

‘What a flimsy fate.’

That my entire life had been ruined because of just one person—
that that person had been my most precious friend, someone I wouldn’t have begrudged even giving my life for—was horrifying.

Regardless of whether they were family or a destined lover, I resented everyone connected to Elodie.

My head spun as rage surged upward.

At the moment I bitterly mocked myself for feeling like I was about to die even though I was already dead, a voice devoid of laughter announced the end.

—

That’s all for the gift. Now, it’s time to wake up.

—

“Gasp!”

I snapped my eyes open, breathing roughly.

The bedding was damp, as if I’d broken out in a cold sweat.

Carefully sitting up, I was greeted by a familiar space—one I had thought I’d never see again.

“Home?”

Before I became an adult, I had lived here with my mother—a small but cozy room now spread out before my eyes.

I absentmindedly raised my arm to wipe the sweat from my brow, then realized something was different and immediately examined my hand.

“It’s small.”

Much smaller than I remembered—soft and delicate, with no scars or calluses.

“My perspective is low.”

Looking at a mirror in the distance, I saw a face that looked to be in the mid-teens.

Calluses had only started forming on my hands after I began working as a maid, so this must have been before I turned seventeen.

“So ‘saving me’ meant sending me back to the past?”

I stood up and moved in front of the mirror.

“This isn’t a dream, right?”

After staring blankly at my youthful face, I pinched my cheek.

It hurt.

At the pain proving it was real, I let out a small laugh.

“So you really gave me a chance.”

Thinking about it, if reincarnation like Elodie’s was possible, then turning back time probably wasn’t that difficult either.

“Hahaha. Protagonist? Extra? What even is that.”

Hard as it was to believe, according to Elodie, the world I lived in was inside a book—and I was the protagonist of that story.

A protagonist who had her fate stolen by an extra.

Suppressing my irritation, I leaned my head against the headboard.

“Who on earth was it?”

The mysterious being who had taken me from the stake straight into the sea in the blink of an eye.

A being with the power to rewind time, to know predetermined fate, and to show me the perspective of a third party.

“…No matter how I think about it, it makes no sense unless it was a god.”

In the book Elodie had read, wasn’t I the saintess?

Since I—not she—was the true saintess, perhaps the god had pitied me and granted my wish.

“I don’t need a wish like this—if only, from the start…”

If only I’d been watched over so none of this ever happened.

I replaced Elodie’s position with myself—loving family, friends, even a lover who adored me.

“Ugh.”

Just imagining it made me feel sick to my stomach.

“How ridiculous. The fate Elodie wanted so desperately—I don’t want it, even though I’m its rightful owner.”

Turning to grasp the situation more clearly, I saw sunlight filtering in through the gap in the drawn curtains.

It was only a faint light seeping through the narrow space, but it was still light, and warmth lingered in the room.

I quietly gazed at it, then reached out my hand.

When warmth touched my palm, the emotions I had been suppressing since the prison came flooding up.

The warmth that proved I was alive—
the reality that I was no longer trapped in a cell—
I was grateful that none of it was a lie.

“Still, the basement was worse than the prison. Wait… the basement? Was I ever locked in a basement?”

Suddenly, my head throbbed as something flashed past.

A small basement—dark and cold.

Someone’s mocking laughter.

And a voice begging.

This isn’t the time to trust and stay still—you need to run away right now!

“Ugh!”

The pain intensified the moment the unfamiliar voice rang out.

As I clutched my head and frowned, memories I’d never seen before rushed past.

Someone pushing through a crowd toward me, an angry shout, screams all around—and my body lifting into the air?

“Aaah!”

The pain became unbearable, and I screamed. At the same time, I heard someone rushing toward me from outside.

“Ria! Are you okay?”

I didn’t even have the presence of mind to answer.

The gray haze filling my vision slowly turned red, then black, then green.

And then, with a sudden emptiness, my body felt as though it were floating, like I’d fallen into water.

But it wasn’t cold.

Because he was holding me tightly.

‘He? Who is he?’

As if warning me not to think any further, excruciating pain surged again. I lost my balance and collapsed to the floor.

At the same moment, the door flew open, overlapping with the image of someone rushing in, calling my name.

“Ria!”

‘Ria!’

It’s not this person.

The owner of the voice that desperately called my name, whispering that I had to live—

Who was it?

As if obscured by a mosaic, I couldn’t make out his face.

The urge to remember him clashed with the thought that maybe it would be easier if I just forgot.

In the end, a wave of sorrow swelled up.

The corners of my eyes burned, and my nose stung.

‘That’s strange. Didn’t he say he would take away my sorrow?’

What on earth is happening?

Could everything I’ve experienced so far have been a dream?

Or have I finally gone mad?

In the midst of my confusion, I realized something was wrong.

I was sad enough to burst into tears at any moment—yet no tears fell.

My body burned with heat, but no matter how much I blinked, no tears—no, no pearls—spilled out.

The mosaic-blurred figure of the man gradually faded.

As if I weren’t allowed to see him, he drifted farther away.

I reached out, wanting to grab him—but couldn’t touch anything.

‘This is my limit.’

As the pain overwhelmed me, I finally lost consciousness, realizing—

My memories weren’t normal.

Something was very, very wrong.