Chapter 13
Vidalia stepped down from the carriage and gazed around in awe. This world truly belonged to another era. The streets were crowded with people of every social class, stalls from countless shops lining one side, while the other part of the square—an elegant park—was reserved for the nobility. Luxury boutiques and refined cafés stood proudly among half-timbered houses and breathtaking Victorian architecture.
A grand fountain occupied the center of the square, couples and families seated around it, the space divided with striking precision. Department stores and specialty shops sold everything imaginable, while a clean, modest market attracted curious nobles seeking novelty.
A towering clock tower loomed over the city, and in the distance, the royal palace could be seen—small, yet unmistakable. Though she couldn't make out its details, Vidalia was certain it was magnificent. Still, someone like her would never have the chance to set foot there. Not that she wanted to. She already had more than enough problems for one lifetime. The only way she'd ever enter the palace would be because of Angela—or thanks to Angela.
"Are you planning to stand there all day?!" Angela shouted, already marching toward the entrance of a café, casting disdainful glances at the commoners passing by.
Vidalia followed her calmly, stealing one last look at the square. On her first day off, she would come back here with Arzhel—she promised herself with a smile hidden behind her veil.
Adjusting the fabric over her face, Vidalia looked up at the elegant sign above the door:
Les Délices d'Alice.
She recognized the name immediately. It had appeared in the novel. After all, this place played a crucial role at the beginning of the story. Vidalia narrowed her eyes in anticipation. She was about to meet the first characters of the novel.
She opened the door for Angela, who seemed to have left her hands back at the manor. Vidalia rolled her eyes.
Inside, everything gleamed and smelled of vanilla and fresh raspberries, blended with the delicate perfume of young ladies. Round tables filled the spacious room, with cozy sofas placed in every corner. A glass display counter showcased an array of cakes and sweets that made one's mouth water.
This pastry shop was the perfect place for afternoon tea—or for uncovering delicious gossip.
Vidalia surveyed the room with calculation and excitement. Perhaps one day, after leaving the Sullivan family behind, she could open a place like this. A bakery… or a shop of her own. She shivered with excitement, imagining all the things she could bring to a world that lacked so much.
Most of the customers appeared to be girls between seven and fifteen years old. Some were accompanied by servants, others sat alone—but Vidalia was certain guards were watching discreetly from somewhere.
She followed a few steps behind Angela. Her sister seemed completely in her element. She had become someone else entirely. Vidalia raised an eyebrow at Angela's bright, innocent expression. Had she changed her hairstyle—or something more?
Angela sat at a table in the center of the room, instantly drawing attention. Naturally. Despite her dreadful personality, Angela was undeniably beautiful: long blue hair cascading to the middle of her back, large shining blue eyes, and a round, cute face. Her skin was flawless and healthy. She wore a pastel green chiffon dress, light as a breeze, embroidered with tiny floral patterns. A neatly tied bow at the back reflected the strict discipline imposed by her governess.
It was only natural she attracted stares—especially with a veiled servant standing beside her in this heat.
Vidalia's gaze swept across the room. The young ladies were already whispering while glancing at Angela, who seemed completely unconcerned. She studied the menu with sparkling eyes. Understandable—the pastries of Valor couldn't compare to those of the capital.
"I'll take this one. Go order," Angela commanded calmly, pointing to the third dessert: Royal Dew Cake.
A delicate layered cake made of honey sponge and jasmine mousse, translucent jelly droplets cascading down its sides like pearls of morning dew.
Vidalia obeyed without hesitation and headed to the counter. The choice didn't surprise her. Angela was obsessed with anything royal—clothes, toys, even books. Books that filled the shelves of her bedroom library… yet remained untouched, avoided like the plague.
"This one, please," Vidalia said, pointing to the menu.
As she waited, Vidalia scanned the room. Normally, Angela would have gone to order herself, and a few girls would have approached her. Excited to make friends, Angela would introduce herself—only to misunderstand something said by one of them and run away crying.
That girl's name was Camélia Greenwood.
The villain.
I guess it's not time yet, Vidalia thought with a pout.
Still, she was thrilled at the thought of meeting Camélia. In the novel, she had been incredibly charismatic—confident, intelligent, and beautiful.
Suddenly, Vidalia's gaze locked onto two girls approaching Angela.
Her eyes widened.
Today?!
Angela smiled politely at them, though Vidalia could see her lips stiffen and jealousy flare in her eyes.
Then she appeared.
Silver hair shimmering like moonlight, a soft, creamy round face, large violet eyes, and a confident smile upon rose-colored lips. Dressed in a pale red gown adorned with diamond jewelry, she walked forward with grace, accompanied by her friends.
Camélia Greenwood had arrived.
Vidalia stared at her in shock and admiration.
She's beautiful.
She must be the same age as Angela, Vidalia thought, stars filling her eyes.
"Since your arrival, your father has already become the subject of gossip," Camélia said gently, her gaze filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry you've been put in such a difficult position… If you need help settling in, please don't hesitate to ask."
She smiled warmly.
"What?" Angela hissed, frowning.
It was just like the novel.
The news that Angela possessed only weak earth magic—and had brought shame upon her family—had spread throughout high society. No surprise there. Edwin's arrogance knew no bounds. He had invited numerous nobles to Angela's birthday and publicly tested her powers.
What an idiot.
Camélia Greenwood, the only daughter of the powerful ducal Greenwood family. One of the great elemental families, blessed by wind magic and immense influence. Camélia herself was considered a prodigy.
Intelligent. Beautiful. Powerful.
To Vidalia, she was an idol.
And seeing her in person made her want to cry with joy.
But Camélia was also the fiancée of Crown Prince Edgar.
Kind and radiant, she was destined to become the flower of high society.
She had kindly offered Angela her help—but Angela, being the fool she was, had felt humiliated and run away in tears.
Camélia had been shocked, saddened by the rejection of her friendship. But it didn't stop there.
After Angela fled, the other young ladies began whispering and spreading rumors—painting Camélia as the villain.
Seeing how far it went, Camélia followed Angela to apologize and explain herself. But upon reaching a street corner, she witnessed Angela being comforted by Camélia's own fiancé.
Hurt and betrayed, Camélia confronted the prince the next day—only for him, like the perfect idiot he was, to dismiss her, proclaim Angela's innocence and declaring his love for her before his influential fiancée.
That was how the villain was created.
All because of Angela.
Now it all made sense. Her jealousy. Her resentment.
Angela hadn't followed her lessons in high society. She had shattered the reputation of a generous soul—and ultimately caused Camélia's death in the original story.
"It'll be to go, please," Vidalia said to the attendant, never taking her eyes off Angela, whose expression was already crumbling.
They said she could change the story, didn't they?
Vidalia curled her lips into a sly smile.
To be continued.