Chapter 3 - My Poor Boy, Hir (2)

Chapter 3 – My Poor Boy, Hir (2)

This cannot bet heaven, there’s no such thing as misery in paradise. Of course I wouldn’t go to heaven, I’ve been cursing someone my entire life. The woman realized as she smiled bitterly at her predicament.

What a sad, pathetic way to die.  I can almost see it, written on my tombstone: cause of death: oven explosion while baking madeleine.

Come to think of it, it was such an average death, clearly fitting for such an average person like me.

A white cloud that looked like a cotton-candy floated above her. Was I in heaven all along?

“Mrs. Marshmell, I think you should get up.”

She was so lost in her thoughts that the voice startled her. Who was this person talking to her? Was it the grim reaper? Was she being judged for her sins? No, if she was in heaven it couldn’t be the grim reaper.

She leaned up and looked in the direction where she heard the voice. A Westerner dressed in a black and white dress with frills on them was looking down at her.

What?

She had no idea where she was in that moment, and the thing she assumed was a cloud was actually just a white canopy. What a weird thought, it was almost as if she was on some kind of medication.

“Mrs. Marshmell, there is a small problem.”

She was now more confused than earlier. What was going on? Didn’t I die from  an oven explosion? or is this the after life? Also, why was this person calling me Mrs. Marshmell?

She felt Goosebumps travel down her body,  as her heart sank down to the very pits of my stomach.

Mrs Marshmell … She’s the protagonist’s evil stepmother from the book she have been reading recently. It was an uncommon name so it was only natural that she remembered it quickly.

The brunette next to her was staring at her with puzzlement evident in her eyes. She let out a deep sigh. This had to be some kind of trick..

She slowly got out of the bed she was lying on and walked straight towards the mirror.

Her eyes shone like a pair of amethyst stones. Her face was dainty, with a crown of soft, light blonde hair. She stood watching for what seemed like ages before finally realizing what was going on.

I’m the wife of the Viscount, Lila Marshmell. Mrs. Marshmell, as the maid referred to her earlier. Her features seemed to fit the exact features that described the Lila in the novel. Yet it wasn’t her standing in the reflection. In front of the mirror stood Mrs Marshmell, almost like she was mocking since she had been swearing at her until the moment she died.

It was then when it hit her,  she was reincarnated. Reincarnated into Lila Marshmell’s body to be exact. The same Lila Marshmell who was executed by the hands of Hir— who  was to become emperor in the future.

Her mind tried to reject the thought. How could she have become a character from a story? She slapped her face lightly, trying to shake off this reality she’d been plunged into. It didn’t seem to work. Before trying to think of another way out, she suddenly remembered the words she had told herself in her previous life.,

‘I would’ve treated you better if I were Lila.’

Damn. When I said that, I didn’t mean it literally. I was only speaking theoretically.

Yet, now she is inside Lila Marshmell’s body, and she needed to be careful not to repeat the same mistakes she made so that she wouldn’t  get thrown into the nearest mental hospital, with the claims of having an identity crisis.

If she were to remain as the Lila who becomes an emotionless monster, she would most definitely face a gruesome death in the hands of Hir, the future tyrant. She was most certainly not in a hurry to experience a horrid death again.

She had lived  in terrible conditions as a child. She was alone, and yet she was determined to live. It would be hard for her to go on as Lila Marshmell, but she had to stay alive.

She began mentally preparing herself for which decisions she had to make, while at the same time trying to calm her racing heart. Her mind eventually calmed down as she focused  on her next move. She turned to the maid beside her and said, “You mentioned that there was a problem.”

“Ye-yes, there is.”

“What is it?” Lila asked, trying to keep a straight face.

The sound of her voice made her shiver. Before she spoke, she thought to herself about an important factor, but she saved the thought for later in order to let her speak. She waited for the maid to go on and as her lips parted she said,

“About that …  Master Hir-”