Rain. Cold, soaking rain.
It should've been a normal school day. Lin Yue blinked slowly as water dripped down her cheeks, mixing with something warm—blood? She wasn't sure. Her lungs ached, her chest barely moved. Sounds faded in and out. Her fingers twitched weakly.
She remembered it now—the accident.
The last thing she saw was the flickering light of the truck's headlights, the screech of tires, and a terrible weightlessness that came before everything turned black.
Then, silence.
And now, light.
Her eyes shot open, startled by warmth and the heavy scent of lavender. Her entire body tensed. She wasn't lying on wet concrete anymore. Instead, she felt soft silk beneath her and a luxurious canopy above her. The ceiling was gilded with gold leaves, painted in a Renaissance style that didn't belong anywhere near a modern hospital, let alone the middle of a street.
Where… am I?
She sat up slowly, groaning at the unfamiliar weight on her body. The fabric brushing her skin wasn't her usual school uniform. Her hands clutched thick velvet covers. They were foreign. Pale. Slender.
"This isn't my body," she whispered.
It wasn't just her skin. Her chest felt heavier—no, she looked down and found a generous, unfamiliar figure under an embroidered nightgown. Her black bobbed hair was gone, replaced with soft, platinum-blonde curls spilling across her pillow.
She stumbled out of bed and rushed to a nearby mirror.
The girl in the reflection was beautiful.
Too beautiful.
Delicate features, flawless skin, long lashes, and stormy blue eyes that sparkled with unshed tears. She looked ethereal, like a doll carved by the hands of a master.
"I'm… her?"
The ornate door creaked open.
A woman in a maid uniform stepped in, and her eyes widened in shock. She dropped the tray she was carrying with a loud clatter.
"Lady Elira! You're awake!"
Elira?
The name meant nothing to her.
Before she could ask anything, the maid dashed out of the room yelling, "Call the physician! Tell the Marquess her daughter has awakened!"
Lin Yue—no, Elira—stumbled backward and sank into a nearby chair.
Was this reincarnation? A dream? A coma?
She had watched enough fantasy dramas to know this setup: noble daughter, unfamiliar world, probably some kind of magical kingdom filled with drama, politics, and danger.
"I need to survive," she muttered to herself, clenching her trembling fists. "I don't care what story this is. I'm not dying again."
---
The physician arrived quickly, followed by two stern-looking maids and a tall woman dressed in mourning black.
"My daughter…" the woman whispered.
So that's the mother, Lin Yue thought.
But something felt off. The woman didn't rush to embrace her. Instead, her cold eyes scanned her with restrained skepticism, as though unsure if she was truly her daughter or an imposter.
Elira tried to stay calm and quiet as the physician examined her. Apparently, she had fallen into a coma for several weeks after "collapsing" during an outing.
"Her pulse is stable, though weaker than usual," the physician said. "She may need time to fully regain her strength, Marchioness."
The woman simply nodded. "Have her prepared. Her entrance into the Academy is next week. She cannot delay further."
"Academy?" Lin Yue echoed softly.
Not high school, then.
She was dressed by the maids in layers of ruffled silk and lace. The corset nearly crushed her ribs, and her hair was styled in loose waves, perfumed until she almost sneezed.
Looking in the mirror again, she could hardly believe the girl looking back at her was the same one who used to cram for physics exams and stay up late binge-watching yuri dramas.
"You're Elira Veremelle now," she told herself in the mirror. "A noble lady. And apparently… a student at some fancy aristocrat school. Fantastic."
But something deep in her chest itched. A feeling she couldn't name.
Was it fear? Anxiety?
No. It was the distinct, overwhelming sensation that she was walking into a trap.
---
A week later, she arrived at the Royal Academy of Elarion.
The gates were massive, wrought iron and gold-trimmed, flanked by stone lion statues. Inside were gardens, fountains, towers, and hundreds of students in pristine uniforms. The carriages were lavish, and the stares piercing.
She felt like a fish tossed into shark-infested waters.
"I'll just keep my head down," she muttered. "Graduate, live quietly, and don't get involved with anyone."
Famous last words.
As she stepped through the academy courtyard, two pairs of eyes locked onto her from opposite ends of the garden.
One pair was silver like ice and burned with quiet cruelty.
The other, a crimson hue, dark and bottomless like wine, full of curiosity and danger.
They watched her with the kind of attention that made her skin crawl and heart race.
She hadn't even said a word, but fate had already marked her.
And neither Celestienne Raventelle nor Isolde Virellith would let her escape.
Not now.
Not ever.