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Chapter 1 …
“I’m Distraught Because I Can See the Villain’s Future”:
A young woman who had stopped eating altogether lay in bed as still as the dead.
“It’s exhausting having two masters. Might as well just drop dead.”
“Shh! She’ll hear you.”
“So what? Let her.”
“What about this food? She’s not going to eat it anyway. Should I just take it back?”
“Leave it. If she dies like that, they might say we starved her to death.”
“Who knows? Maybe the real madam will even reward us. Heh.”
The maids whispered among themselves, then giggled openly, their laughter ringing shamelessly inside the room.
To them, the young madam lying on the bed didn’t matter in the slightest.
Even though she was the lady of the manor, no one treated her with the respect or fear due to a mistress.
Her face, eyes firmly shut as she listened to their arrogant words in silence, looked pitiful.
And yet, the maids grew even more insolent toward her.
They bustled about clumsily, cleaning the room with little care, then finally slammed the door on their way out.
She was alone at last.
Wavy, light-brown hair spilled across the pillow like ripples, framing round, doll-like features without a single flaw. Pale gold eyelashes trembled faintly.
Her face still carried a hint of youthful innocence, but she was undeniably the lady of the house—
Garnet Willinger, wife of the Lord of Willinger Castle.
An extra in the novel A Flower Blooming in Darkness.
A character so insignificant she wasn’t even listed in the character introductions—a pitiful woman who married the wrong man and died young.
Her lashes slowly lifted, revealing blue eyes quivering with shock and fear.
Because I was now Garnet Willinger.
“This is insane… seriously.”
I dashed barefoot back to the vanity.
A face like something out of a foreign film, a lavish room like a medieval set piece—exactly as it had been yesterday.
I’d hoped that after a night’s sleep, I’d wake up from this dreamlike hallucination… but nothing had changed.
In my twenty years, I’d had my share of bizarre experiences, but nothing like this.
“How the hell did this even happen—mmph!”
My voice rose before I slapped a hand over my mouth in alarm.
If the maids in the hall heard me, they might come back in.
If word spread that the Lady of Willinger had gone mad, I’d be in even bigger trouble.
Okay, calm down. Back to bed. Think this through.
I tiptoed back to the bed.
Ugh, my head…
One thing, oddly enough, hadn’t changed despite my face, surroundings, and entire world being different overnight—
My chronic tension headache, the one that made me rub my temples whenever I was upset.
I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to recall the last morning of my previous life.
I’d boarded the shuttle bus before dawn to get to my part-time job.
I kept dozing off and bumping my forehead against the window, then shuffled along with the other workers into the warehouse.
As usual, I’d been scanning items and packing boxes when I saw one that was just out of reach on a high shelf.
Where’s the ladder?
I dragged one over and climbed up unsteadily, stretching my arm as far as it would go.
Just a little more…
My fingers brushed the item, lost it, caught it again, only for it to slip away. My arms and legs trembled like they were cramping.
Pressing my body closer, I gave a little hop—finally catching it between my fingers.
Got it!
And then the ladder wobbled, and I plunged downward.
I heard the crash of falling goods as the ladder toppled, and then everything faded.
It felt like floating in zero gravity—that was my last memory.
When I woke up here yesterday, I’d been dangling from an ornate ceiling.
Oh my god! What the hell is this?!
Panicked, I’d grabbed the cord around my neck and yanked.
My body dangled in midair, the noose tightening until my consciousness blurred.
At some point, my struggling hands had gone limp.
No!
I’d “woken up” again, only to find myself back in this lavish room, gasping like I’d really been strangled. My neck ached under my trembling fingers.
My nightgown and sheets were drenched in sweat.
The door opened; I froze and feigned sleep.
“I hear General Marcus is really on the rise. They say provincial lords are flocking to his side.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. How can an ordinary man compare to a devil like Grand Duke Shiraz?”
“Which side do you think Lord Willinger will choose?”
“Whichever wins. Otherwise, we’re all dead.”
“Don’t you think the lady’s been sleeping too long? She’s been out all yesterday and today. Like a corpse.”
They thought I was still asleep, but their conversation told me something crucial—
I was now inside a romance fantasy novel, inhabiting the body of a throwaway extra.
I clenched my fists under the blanket.
Of all the people to possess!
In the original story, Garnet Willinger was a background character who hung herself from the ceiling.
And that choking nightmare I kept having?
It was because that was exactly what would happen to this body soon.
From the maids’ conversation, I realized this was the very start of the story.
I racked my brain to recall every detail of the plot, but the only thing I remembered about Garnet was that she killed herself early on.
I hadn’t even been moved by the scene; I’d skimmed right past it.
Her husband, Lennon Willinger, was a provincial lord who betrayed Shiraz Rudkayev, and in return, was gruesomely beheaded.
A two-timing coward, he wavered between the male lead, General Marcus, and the “devil” Grand Duke Shiraz—before being crushed like an insect.
In short, my current husband was the worst kind of man… and my death was imminent.
I can’t just lie here and wait for it.
I’d had my two days of panic, despair, and frustration; now I had to accept reality if I wanted to survive.
As soon as the maids left, I got out of bed and began pacing, chewing my nails in agitation.
The maids’ gossip was like rain in a drought—it helped me piece together the timeline.
If the “devil” Shiraz is being mentioned, and Marcus is rallying the lords… then we’re right before Willinger betrays Shiraz and dies.
The exact point in the plot didn’t matter.
I was doomed in the early chapters anyway.
Thankfully, it seemed my husband hadn’t fully committed to Marcus’s side yet.
That means I still have time. Before the devil arrives.
Just thinking about Shiraz made me shiver.
Shiraz Rudkayev—the merciless Grand Duke of Blood. The man who personally slaughtered his uncle the Emperor and his cousins.
After years of loyal service to the Emperor, something snapped in him. From then on, he drenched the Empire in chaos and terror.
In the novel, when Shiraz approached Willinger Castle, Garnet begged her husband to die together with her.
But he abandoned her and fled alone.
Left behind, she chose to “die with dignity” as the lady of the house.
Some might think that was nobler than being cut down like a dog—but…
Yeah, right. There’s no such thing as a dignified death. It’s still dying like a dog.
Shuddering, I hurried to the vanity.
In the bottom drawer, tucked away, was an old letter I’d found when I first woke here.
[To my younger brother Aiden Kirkram,
It has been long since you left home. I have been appointed head of the monastery in our homeland.
Stop wandering and return to help me in my work. I have kept a place for your medical skills.
I hear you have a daughter now. I wish to see my niece’s face. I await your reply.]
Kirkram was Garnet’s maiden family name before she married into the Willinger household.
This letter was from her uncle in the Duchy of Mahat, entrusted to her after her father’s death.
He seemed to hold a high position there—certainly not the sort to wish her harm.
They say even when cornered, there’s always one escape route… Thank god I have somewhere to run.
I have to get out of this castle before Grand Duke Shiraz arrives.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
Hair like golden wheat under the sun, cream-pale skin, eyes as blue as the autumn sky.
For an extra doomed to die so quickly, she was far too beautiful. And… maybe I’d already grown attached to her.
“Alright, Garnet. We’re not going to die. We’re going to live.”
Forcing a shaky smile, I made the vow to the girl in the mirror.
