A week had passed since Sevine came to terms with the harsh reality that she was now trapped in the pages of a cheesy romance novel. With a firm resolve, the girl decided to abandon her identity as Sevine and fully embrace her new life as Yelena Darconer, without a shred of doubt.
However, her drastic transformation had stirred quite a reaction among the inhabitants of the Darconer estate. Once, Yelena Darconer had been known for her haughty and arrogant demeanor, a quality that exuded power in every gesture she made. But now, the girl had adopted an almost overly polite attitude. She even spoke with formal language to the servants, despite them, who had grown used to Yelena's once harsh nature, now feeling confused and kneeling in desperation, begging her to stop treating them with such excessive respect.
Sevine, now inhabiting Yelena's body, had no intention of following the path of the fictional character. She was determined to build a new image, to erase the negative reputation that had already been deeply ingrained. The Darconer family, while not hating her, could not help but wonder about these sudden changes. It wasn't that they disliked her, but everything had happened so suddenly. Besides her change in behavior, Yelena had also stopped consuming redplums—a highly addictive and illegal drink that made its consumers feel as though they were floating, much like the drugs Sevine had once known.
Redplums were well-known in the Kingdom of Baterville for their dangerously strong addictive properties. The kingdom had strictly banned the distribution of the drink, but there were always those who managed to smuggle it through underground channels.
The Duke and Duchess Darconer were aware of this issue, but they chose to let Yelena continue consuming it for the sake of her mental health. In the novel, Yelena Darconer was portrayed as having a mental disorder that caused her to act excessively when her emotions were triggered. Redplums, while intoxicating, provided a brief moment of peace for those who sought it, even the criminals condemned to death in the kingdom often requesting the drink as their final indulgence before heading to their execution.
"My Lady, what are you reading?" asked Emily, her soft voice tinged with curiosity, the personal servant who had become quite close to Sevine.
Recently, the female servants had become very familiar with the girl. They saw the changes in her and began to feel sympathy, even concern.
"Kingdom politics," Sevine replied curtly, her eyes still focused on the book before her.
"Wow, you're really brilliant. I'm sure you'll make an amazing queen someday," Emily said with admiration in her voice.
"I won't marry the Crown Prince, Emily," Sevine replied firmly, though not without a hint of weariness in her tone.
After all, who in their right mind would want to marry the Crown Prince, knowing full well that they would be killed in the future? Sevine just wanted to enjoy life, something she had neglected for too long while consumed by the demands of her past.
"Don't you like the Crown Prince?" Emily asked, her curiosity evident.
Sevine gently shook her head. Suddenly, a wise quote that she had once read flashed through her mind. The words were so clear, as if they had been written just for her in this very moment.
"Sometimes, letting go is also a way of loving, you know?"
As she spoke those words, there was an odd feeling that crept into Sevine's heart. A weight, like a burden that couldn't be spoken, began to make itself known. Not long after, tears fell slowly, tracing down her pale cheeks, soft and delicate as milk. Even though Yelena's original soul had been fully replaced, remnants of her feelings seemed to linger in this body. Feelings deeper than she could put into words—feelings for a man she knew she could never have.
"Are you alright?" Emily asked, her voice full of concern, sensing the sudden shift in the room.
"I'm fine," Sevine closed her book gently and smiled, though the smile didn't quite hide the turmoil that had taken root in her heart.
●○●○●○●○
Sure! Here's a more natural and less formal English translation of your story:
---
Sometimes, Sevine still got confused when someone called her "Lady Yelena." She would furrow her brows and answer awkwardly. But over time, she eventually got used to it.
People in the Darconer household had also stopped asking why she had changed. They just saw it as some kind of miracle—like their Lady had turned over a new leaf.
"I don't get how your dancing skills got this bad," commented Duchess Mathilda, watching Sevine's movements. The middle-aged woman frowned and let out a long sigh.
"So stiff. It hurts my eyes to look at you."
Sevine was practicing dancing with Madam Roscell, Count Levis's wife.
"Mother, when I received the goddess's blessing, the price I had to pay was my memory. Did you forget that?" Sevine replied casually. She had repeated this same answer dozens of times already.
To explain why she had forgotten so many things, Sevine always said she received the blessing of the goddess—and because of that, she'd become a better person.
"You were even called the Golden Swan of Baterville when you were little," Duchess Mathilda sighed.
"Pffft, what even is that?" Sevine tried to hold back her laugh.
Madam Roscell added, "It's true, my Lady. When you were a child, your dancing was so graceful that people started calling you the Golden Swan of Baterville."
"Alright, alright, please stop. I'll practice properly. But don't call me a swan again, please." Sevine's cheeks felt hot. Yelena Darconer—did that girl actually like being called a swan?
Duchess Mathilda chuckled with Madam Roscell. Madam Roscell herself was surprised by Yelena's transformation. But she was grateful the girl had changed for the better.
"Who knows, maybe you'll catch the crown prince's attention at the royal dance party at the end of the year."
Sevine let out a soft laugh. But deep down, she hated that idea. Get close to the crown prince? Not a chance.
»»--⍟--««
To catch up, Sevine studied everything about this world. Theoretical subjects like politics, business, law, and the history of the kingdom. And practical skills like dancing, etiquette, noble social life, horseback riding—even swordsmanship.
Duke Darconer was shocked by how eager his daughter was to learn.Yelena—his lazy daughter—had suddenly become a study maniac.
Before this, his daughter had never cared about learning anything beyond looking pretty, knowing how to dance, and basic manners. Now that same girl was asking him to find her experienced teachers. How could he not be surprised?
"You're worrying too much about Lady Yelena, Sir. Isn't this a good thing?" asked Vincent, the head butler and Duke Lucas Darconer's right-hand man.
Duke Darconer who had been watching Yelena train on horseback in the grassy courtyard, turned toward Vincent.
His office was on the third floor of the west wing of the Darconer estate—right next to the grassy field where knights and soldiers usually trained.
"Of course I'm happy about her change, Vincent. It's just… sometimes I feel like she's someone else."
Duke Lucas sat back down at his desk and took a sip of the coffee Vincent had served.
"Sometimes she looks like a completely different person. But when I look into her eyes… she's really my Yelena."
"I understand what you mean, Sir. Honestly, you're not the only one who feels that way. The other staff also say Lady Yelena seems different."
"Right? It's not just me and Mathilda who feel like she's a stranger," Duke Lucas tapped his fingers on the desk.
"But Sir, shouldn't we be grateful for this change? You and the Duchess used to worry so much about Lady Yelena's behavior."
Duke Darconer went silent. Vincent had a point. He and his wife had often been troubled by Yelena's attitude. Her transformation had brought nothing but good things. People liked her now.
"Sorry, I guess I've just had a lot on my mind lately. So how are the preparations going for picking up Louis?"
"I've already assigned three knight squads to fetch Young Master Louis."
Louis Darconer, Yelena's younger brother, had spent the last five years studying in a neighboring kingdom to prepare himself to be the future head of the Darconer Duchy. In three days, he'd be done and ready to return to Baterville.
"I'm thinking of appointing Linden as Yelena's personal knight," said Duke Darconer suddenly.
Linden Matteo was one of the top five knights in the Kingdom of Baterville. He ranked fifth in strength, just behind the four Winchesters. The strongest knight in the kingdom was the young Duke of Winchester, who also served as the kingdom's top general.
The Kingdom of Baterville had three main powerhouses: Darconer in the west, Winchester in the east, and Ruberius in the north.
The holy northern region where the goddess's temples stood was managed by the Ruberius Duchy—since the first head of the Ruberius family had been a paladin who received a divine revelation from Eteer, the goddess worshipped by the people of Baterville.
»»——⍟——««
After five long days on the road, Louis Darconer finally arrived at the grand estate he called home.
The manor was bustling with activity. Servants hurried from room to room, decorating the hall with fresh flowers, lighting golden candelabras, and laying out trays of delicacies in preparation for the return of their young master. The air was filled with the soft clinking of porcelain, the rustle of silk skirts, and the faint melody of a string quartet rehearsing in the next room.
In the far corner of the grand welcoming hall, Louis stood holding a delicate porcelain teacup, his fingers wrapped around the handle with a quiet elegance. Beside him stood Vincent, his ever-composed attendant and the one man he could trust without question.
"So… you're sure that's my sister? Yelena?" Louis asked, his voice low, skeptical, his eyes subtly trailing the figure of Sevine, who was currently sneaking another chocolate macaron off the dessert table like a child caught in mischief.
"Yes, My Lord," Vincent said without hesitation.
Louis had received letters from his father—mostly odd, rambling things about how Yelena had "changed," how she'd become someone else entirely. Louis had dismissed them as exaggerations, the sentimental musings of a father losing touch. But now… he wasn't so sure.
The moment he stepped out of the carriage and into the sun-dappled courtyard, he was met not with Yelena's usual sarcastic sneer or disdainful eyes, but with something terrifyingly unfamiliar—a warm smile. She had practically skipped toward him, accompanied by several delighted servants, and even had the audacity to stroke his hair.
"Was your journey pleasant, Louis?" she asked, her voice bright, sweet… sincere.
It shook him.
Their relationship had always been neutral at best—two ships passing in the night. As the heir, Louis spent most of his life buried in books and politics; Yelena, meanwhile, drifted through social circles like smoke, spending lavishly and stirring trouble for sport.
A witch, Louis thought. It has to be. No way Yelena's suddenly turned into this kind of person. His logic couldn't make peace with the bizarre softness he was seeing.
Vincent cleared his throat gently. "We verified it thoroughly. That is, without a doubt, Lady Yelena."
"I'm not used to this at all," Louis muttered, narrowing his eyes.
»»--⍟--««
From the corner of her eye, Sevine could tell Louis was watching her. She could practically feel his suspicion, like a blade brushing her skin. But she paid it no mind. Right now, the plate of chocolate macarons was more interesting.
Sorry Louis, she thought, but your real sister is long gone.
Hopefully, he'd swallow the lie like the others had.
But it was hard not to be distracted by Louis himself. In the original novel, his physical appearance had never been detailed—he was a mere side character, a stepping stone in the heroine's journey. But here, in front of her, he looked like he had stepped out of a painting.
With hair like spun gold, deep blue eyes that seemed to hide a storm behind glass, and porcelain skin, Louis was striking. He stood around 165 cm—just a few centimeters shorter than Yelena.
Why is everyone in this world so ridiculously good-looking? Sevine thought, almost bitterly. Back in my world, half of them could've been supermodels.
Just then, a shadow fell over her.
"Yelena, since when do you like chocolate macarons?" Louis asked casually. "Didn't you used to be allergic to chocolate?"
Oh? Trying to test me? Sevine smirked inwardly. Nice try. I know for a fact Yelena was never allergic.
"Since when was I ever allergic?" she answered smoothly, smiling like she hadn't just dodged a trap.
"I could've sworn you were the one who turned red like an apple after eating chocolate,"
That caught his off guard—but only for a second.
Sevine laughed lightly and reached up to ruffle his hair. "Next time, you better call me Big Sister. I'm still two years older than you."
Louis blinked. That memory—of a chocolate-related rash—was something only the real Yelena would know. Not even a powerful witch could imitate memories so precisely. He looked at her, stunned, and for a brief moment, doubt slipped from his expression, replaced by confusion.
"F-Fine," he muttered, cheeks flushing red. And when she messed up his hair again, he flinched and excused himself quickly, claiming he had to greet the Duke.
Sevine giggled softly behind her hand. "Who knew Yelena Darconer had such an adorably tsundere little brother?"
»»——⍟——««
Two weeks after Louis returned home, Duke Darconer officially appointed Linden Matteo as Sevine's personal bodyguard.
The knight's oath was held in the grand hall. Linden knelt down, then took Sevine's right hand and gently kissed the back of it—a traditional gesture of loyalty.
Sevine froze.
It was the first time a man had ever kissed her hand. Even in her past life, not even Daniel.
"I, Linden Matteo, swear to dedicate my life to protect and serve Lady Yelena Darconer. In light or darkness, in peace or war."
His voice was deep, steady, and solemn. Something in his tone made the whole room fall quiet, and even Sevine couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine.
A few of the young knights who admired Yelena looked absolutely heartbroken.From the side, Louis crossed his arms, grinning mischievously.
"Why are you blushing like that, sis? That's so cute," he whispered.
"Shut up!" Sevine snapped, snatching her hand back. Her cheeks were burning bright red. No matter how modern her soul was, she was still a girl—and Linden was dangerously handsome.
"Sir Linden, there's no need to guard me 24/7," Sevine said as they walked side by side among rows of lavender.
"Keeping you safe is my duty," he replied calmly. "And please, just call me Linden."
"Alright, but don't go overboard. I might look fragile, but I can handle myself just fine." She gave his shoulder a friendly pat.
To her surprise, Linden flinched and stepped back slightly, almost like her touch startled him.
That's odd, she thought. Is he always this stiff?
Louis, watching from the balcony, chimed in with a smirk, "Your sword skills are still garbage, sis. You flail around like a drunk chicken when you train."
"But I could still knock you down with a few punches," Sevine shot back confidently.
In truth, she'd trained in boxing for years in her previous life. Her coach had even said she had the reflexes of a pro.
In this world, people only knew how to fight with swords or magic—but Sevine had a trick up her sleeve: modern combat techniques.
Louis laughed, but didn't deny it.
Linden, on the other hand, looked intrigued.
"You can fight... without a weapon?"
"Of course. I can make a man twice my size beg for mercy without even drawing a blade," she said, flashing a grin.
Linden didn't respond, but there was a flicker of admiration in his eyes.