Katherine wandered through the grand halls of the mansion, her footsteps echoing against the polished floors. The estate was massive—too massive. Room after room of luxurious tapestries, gilded furniture, and chandeliers so elaborate they could probably house a small ecosystem. And yet, for all its grandeur, it was useless against her boredom.
This world had a major flaw: no instant answers.
Back home, she could Google anything and have an entire Wikipedia page at her fingertips in seconds. Here? Information was locked behind ink and parchment, requiring patience, effort, and—worst of all—actual reading.
"Ugh, such a hassle. No Wi-Fi, no Google—" she grumbled, throwing her hands up. "At this point, I'd rather suffer through Converge than live in this data-less wasteland."
Resigning herself to her fate, she dragged herself toward the library—a grand space lined with towering bookshelves that stretched so high, she almost expected a floating librarian to swoop in and retrieve books with magic. The scent of aged paper and ink filled the air, flickering candlelight casting soft shadows against gold-embossed spines.
She whistled, impressed. "Okay, this is gorgeous. Straight out of a Harry Potter movie. Just missing a few floating candles."
Her awe, however, vanished the moment she actually tried to use the library.
There was no search function. No Ctrl+F. No neatly compiled summaries. Just an army of thick, intimidating books, most with titles that screamed "mandatory reading for a medieval law degree."
Sighing, she flopped into a plush armchair, cracking open a book on the kingdom's history. Five minutes in… and she was already suffering.
No internet. No videos. No digital archives. Just… endless walls of text.
She groaned, letting her head fall back. "How did people survive like this?"
But as much as she wanted to complain about the tragic lack of modern conveniences, she knew she didn't have a choice. If she wanted to survive in this world, she had to start learning—properly. Begrudgingly, she flipped through pages filled with noble lineages, past wars, and political shifts.
At first, it was just as boring as she feared. But then—something caught her eye.
A passage about the royal family. Their alliances. Their court structure.
A flicker of recognition sparked in her mind. Right. This wasn't just about kings and battles. This was about power. Who held it, who wanted it, and—most importantly—who knew how to play the long game.
For the first time, something shifted inside her. The boredom faded, replaced by something sharper.
If she wanted to navigate this world, existing wasn't enough. She had to understand it—the unspoken rules, the expectations, the hidden power plays.
The problem was… did she want to?
She had hated politics in her old life—too messy, too many lies, too much mental energy required. But here? Politics wasn't just about elections and policies. It was survival.
Katherine snapped the book shut, exhaling slowly.
There was so much she didn't know yet.
But one thing was certain—if she wanted to figure out her place in this world, she'd have to do it the old-fashioned way.
One book at a time.
***
Katherine let out a long, dramatic sigh as she stared at the high ceiling of her bedroom. The days were starting to blur together—eat, sleep, read, stare out the window, contemplate the meaning of life, repeat.
It wasn't as if she hated this world, but compared to the fast-paced, technology-filled life she once had, this felt… painfully slow. No internet, no movies, no social media to rot her brain in peace. Even the grand, book-filled library couldn't fully distract her from the absolute monotony of her daily routine.
She groaned into her pillow. This must be what it felt like to be a medieval housecat.
Florante was in his fifth year at Athens, which meant he and Adolfo were still deep in their rivalry-for-the-ages, still competing for academic dominance, still blissfully unaware that their world was about to go up in flames. There were only a few more years before everything fell apart—before Adolfo betrayed him, before war broke out, before the bloodshed began.
She sighed again, shifting onto her side and hugging a silk pillow like it held the answers to her existential crisis. Should she do something? Could she?
Technically, as a noble, she was qualified to attend Athens. But there was one small, minor, ridiculously outdated issue—she was a woman. The academy was strictly for men, meant to train future rulers, generals, and scholars. Women of noble birth? They were expected to marry well, manage households, and master the fine art of looking pretty while knowing when to shut up.
It annoyed her. Greatly.
Not that she particularly cared about Florante himself.
She had never liked him as a protagonist. He was too perfect. Handsome, intelligent, skilled in combat, morally unshakable, and of course, blessed with a stunning love interest who adored him. Ugh.
What flaw did he even have? An occasional sad backstory moment? A little too much justice in his bones? Boring.
A good protagonist should have weaknesses—something that made them human, something that made their journey feel earned. But Florante? He was like a shiny collectible figurine, sculpted for admiration and destined for greatness. Maybe that was why she had always been drawn to the other characters, the ones with actual flaws and rough edges… like Adolfo.
And yet, despite her utter indifference toward Florante, she couldn't ignore what she knew.
She knew about the war. She knew about Adolfo's inevitable betrayal. She knew about the deaths and tragedies that were set in stone.
Would it all really happen exactly as she remembered?
She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. Maybe she was overthinking things. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself. She had no real way to interfere, no logical reason to insert herself into the main characters' affairs. Staying out of it was probably the best move.
And yet… deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that things had already begun to shift.
"I don't know what I need to do," she muttered, fingers idly tracing the embroidery on her sheets. The uncertainty pressed against her chest like a weight she couldn't shake. She was in a world she had once only read about—but what was she supposed to do with that knowledge? Live quietly? Try to change fate? Was she even capable of making a difference?
Her mind swirled with possibilities, each more overwhelming than the last.
But one thing was certain—she wasn't going to spend the rest of her days doing nothing.
Katherine let out a slow breath, letting her thoughts drift like fallen leaves in the wind.
Perhaps, tomorrow, she would find a new purpose.
Or perhaps… the world would drag her into the plot whether she liked it or not.
***
The mansion was in full battle mode. Servants zipped back and forth like well-trained soldiers, dodging each other with expert precision. Tailors, jewelers, and dressmakers had taken over the grand halls, drowning the place in fabrics, glittering jewels, and enough perfume to suffocate a small army.
Katherine, on the other hand, was lounging dramatically on a chaise like a woman burdened by the weight of high society. She lazily popped a grape into her mouth, watching the chaos unfold like a bored goddess surveying the mortals beneath her.
"All this effort for one night," she mused, stretching like a cat. "You'd think I was getting married, not just attending a ball."
Aunt Yevon, ever the picture of grace, sipped her tea with the patience of a woman who had heard it all before. "A noble lady's appearance in high society is no small matter, Katherine. First impressions last."
Katherine waved a hand. "It's not like I have a partner or plan to dance. I'll just smile, nod, and avoid stepping on anyone's foot."
Yevon chuckled, clearly unbothered by her niece's indifference. "Perhaps. But it wouldn't hurt to enjoy yourself."
A tailor appeared out of nowhere, holding an armful of gowns like they were his personal treasures. "Lady Katherine, would you prefer something classic or something bold?" He reverently held up an elaborate golden gown embroidered with delicate patterns.
Katherine tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Bold, you say? Like—short skirt, high slit, rebellious noble kind of bold?"
The tailor visibly paled, nearly dropping the gown in sheer horror.
Yevon, ever amused, took another sip of tea. "Katherine, do try not to give them heart attacks."
Katherine sighed dramatically before reluctantly pointing at a deep sapphire gown with silver embroidery that shimmered like starlight. "Fine. This one. It looks dramatic enough without suffocating me under layers of fabric."
The tailor exhaled like a man who had just survived a near-death experience. "An excellent choice, my lady."
Next came the shiny distractions—jewelry. A jeweler presented a velvet-lined case bursting with gems, each one glittering under the light like they were whispering, Pick me. Pick me, and you'll shine like the sun.
Katherine picked up a diamond necklace and held it up to the light. "If I wear this, do you think it'll blind people?"
Yevon plucked the necklace from her grasp and handed her a sapphire one instead. "Subtle, yet refined. A better match for your gown."
Katherine sighed, staring at the deep blue stones. "Well, I suppose blinding everyone isn't the best strategy. Fine, I'll wear this one."
As the last of the tailors and jewelers finished up, Yevon gave her a knowing look. "You do realize people will talk about you at the ball, whether you dance or not."
Katherine stretched lazily, completely unfazed. "People always talk. If they're going to gossip anyway, I might as well give them something fun to whisper about."
Yevon just shook her head, laughing softly. Unlike others who might scold or lecture, she simply accepted Katherine as she was.
Katherine glanced at the gown, the jewelry, and the sheer amount of effort poured into this event. It was completely ridiculous. And yet… maybe a little entertaining.
Who knew? Maybe, despite herself, she might actually have fun. Or at the very least, cause a little trouble.