YPDM 02

Chapter 02

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a ceiling with a strangely antique atmosphere.

What is this?

Just a moment ago, I had been lying on the tiny folding mattress in my semi-basement studio apartment.

I hurriedly sat up in bed and looked around.

The magnificent four-poster bed was so enormous that even if I stretched both arms out as far as I could, I wouldn’t reach either side.

Though it wasn’t decorated with patterns, a soft canopy hung above it, gently swaying.

Instead of my worn-out T-shirt with the stretched neckline and my sweatpants that I usually wore to bed, I was dressed in elegant nightclothes adorned with delicate lace across the chest.

What in the world is going on…?

Still dumbfounded, I tried to climb out of bed but jumped in surprise at the sensation beneath my feet.

It was because of the thick, plush rug covering the floor.

The room had spotless wallpaper, neatly arranged furniture, and two large windows that filled it with warm sunlight.

A small flowerpot sat on the windowsill, blooming with fresh crimson flowers.

“Wait… this scene looks awfully familiar.”

I muttered without thinking, only to freeze at the sound of my own voice.

Did that really come from my throat?

It wasn’t any language I had ever known, yet I could speak and understand it naturally.

No… it can’t be. Surely not…

But my mind had already reached its conclusion.

I slowly inhaled and exhaled, taking a deep breath.

Of course, I had imagined transmigrating into the body of a protagonist blessed with everything and starting a new life.

Whenever I did, it comforted me from the harsh reality of being practically an orphan, scraping by with one part-time job after another.

But for it to happen so suddenly…

And more importantly—

Whose body had I entered?

Turning my head, I spotted a mirror standing against one wall.

At that moment, I finally understood why every transmigrator in novels rushed to find a mirror first.

The first rule of transmigration:

You become the character from the novel you were reading—or loved the most—right before it happened.

“Anyone but Olabia. Please… anyone but Olabia…”

Just because you like someone doesn’t mean you want to become them.

Those are two completely different things.

Objectively speaking, who would willingly choose to become the fake heroine who suffers endlessly only to end up with a bad ending?

Unfortunately…

I’d never been particularly lucky in my life.

The only thing my instincts were ever accurate about was a bad premonition.

At predicting disaster, I could have put fortune-tellers out of business.

For the first time in my life, I sincerely prayed to a god I had never believed in.

And, naturally…

The gods showed no mercy to a former atheist.

“…”

Long, flowing golden hair cascading past my waist.

Emerald-green eyes.

Skin so pale it looked as though it had been dusted with pearl powder.

Long, slender limbs.

The woman reflected in the mirror was breathtakingly beautiful.

Meanwhile, I clutched my head in despair.

Out of everyone…

I had to become the younger sister whose body was stolen by the villainous older sister before dying?

If I had become Karinne instead, I could have changed my ways and guided everyone toward a happy ending.

Just like my previous life…

Luck had apparently abandoned me in this one as well.

After pulling at my hair for quite some time, I finally looked up and met my own reflection.

“Get it together. I can’t just sit here and die.”

I had to survive.

Slowly, I began sorting through everything I knew.

“First… I need to figure out exactly where we are in the timeline…”

I was just about to retrace the events of the original novel when—

Ding.

A light bell rang from outside the door.

“Lady Olabia, it’s Mary.”

“Hm?”

I narrowed my eyes.

Normally, this was the point where the maid barged in while screaming loud enough to burst someone’s eardrums.

Arrogant, disrespectful…

And never hesitant to torment the heroine.

Cruel personal maids were practically mandatory equipment for pitiful heroines in frustrating romance novels.

But somehow…

“If you’re awake, may I come in?”

Her tone was unexpectedly polite.

I blinked blankly before my gaze drifted back to my reflection in the mirror.

Then—

Dong.

Something echoed inside my head.

Like lights switching on one shelf at a time inside a dark library, Olabia’s memories gradually began flowing into me.

The sensation of another person’s memories layering over my own was…

Impossible to describe.

Strange beyond words.

Then, in the middle of it—

What?

The flow suddenly stopped.

As though someone had abruptly shut off a running water hose.

I didn’t know why.

But one thing was certain.

I’d only recovered a tiny fraction of Olabia’s memories.

Most of them weren’t even personal memories.

They were more like information necessary to survive in this world.

It felt similar to reading a game’s world-building and setting description.

Still, it wasn’t completely useless.

According to Olabia’s memories…

This was a point in time before the novel even began.

The first incident of the story hadn’t happened yet.

“My lady… are you still asleep?”

The clear sound of the bell rang once more.

I quickly snapped back to reality.

“I’m awake. You may come in.”

Only then did the door open.

The maid who entered was a young girl with ordinary brown hair and a youthful face sprinkled with freckles.

I knew her.

Mary.

She was Olabia’s personal maid.

In the original novel, she was little more than a background character.

Because despite being assigned to serve Olabia, she constantly neglected her duties.

As a result, Olabia had been forced to endure poorly prepared meals, unmade bedding, and countless other inconveniences.

“Good morning, my lady. You’re up earlier than usual today. Did you sleep well last night?”

I frowned slightly.

Looking out the window, I saw that the sun was already high in the sky.

Come to think of it… I remember reading somewhere that nobles usually woke up much later than everyone else.

I simply nodded, brushing off her question.

Right now, gathering information about my situation came first.

I couldn’t afford to say anything careless or attract unnecessary attention.

“I’m relieved to see you’re looking so well.”

Mary remained almost excessively respectful.

To the point that it actually felt strange.

In the novel, Olabia suffered endlessly until Crown Prince Edwin finally helped her escape the Brienne household.

Her father, Baron Brienne, abused her.

Even the servants constantly humiliated and bullied her behind the scenes.

I’d mentally prepared myself for exactly that.

But…

This is completely different.

I searched through every bit of Olabia’s limited memories, yet found nothing that explained the discrepancy.

How is this possible?

Something was wrong.

It couldn’t be because my transmigration had already changed the story.

I hadn’t done anything yet.

If this was the case, then knowing the original plot was practically meaningless.

A transmigrator’s greatest advantage was supposed to be knowing the future.

But now that even the opening setup had changed…

Everything I knew had become useless.

I instinctively realized that surviving in this world would not be easy.

Then Mary spread a white tablecloth over the table and respectfully spoke again.

“Then I’ll serve your meal.”

Meal?

Mary stepped back outside before returning moments later, pushing a large serving trolley.

With practiced movements, she began placing dish after dish onto the table.

The meal was astonishingly lavish.

A light yet rich soup.

A fresh seasonal fruit salad.

Soft, steaming bread and cheese.

Even a juicy steak.

It certainly looks convincing.

If I hadn’t transmigrated into Olabia’s world…

I probably would have happily enjoyed the feast.

Maybe even joked about whether it secretly tasted like earwax-flavored jelly beans.

But now…

Everything seemed suspicious.

Especially considering just how different reality already was from the original novel.

“Please, go ahead and eat.”

Perhaps because I was simply staring at the table, Mary spoke up from beside me.

But by now, caution and suspicion had already taken root.

I couldn’t bring myself to pick up the spoon.

Or rather…

I simply couldn’t.

Trying to reassure me, she urged me once more.

“You really should eat something today. You haven’t been able to eat properly for quite a while.”

Her words immediately caught my attention.

Was Olabia in poor health?

Come to think of it…

The first thing Mary had commented on was how good my condition looked.

But I feel perfectly fine.

Just to be sure, I checked over my body.

There wasn’t any pain.

No discomfort.

Nothing felt wrong.

For now, I decided to simply remember what she’d said and nodded.

“I’m alright now.”

“I’m truly glad you’re feeling so much better, my lady.”

Mary smiled warmly.

It was such a gentle, comforting smile that it naturally softened my heart.

If I’d arrived here without knowing anything…

I probably would have accepted her kindness without the slightest suspicion.