I stared at my reflection until the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, turning the mirror into a hazy portal.
Violet eyes stared back—sharp, defiant, a little wild.
"Not this time," I whispered again, like a mantra. "I've never been good at following scripts."
The Garden Banquet was today. Seraphina Lumière's debut. The event where the original novel's reverse harem gears truly started turning.
Crown Prince Adrian would notice her grace.
Duke's son Ronan would see her as a "gentle rabbit." And Cassian... my Cassian... would begin his tragic, unrequited pining.
Over my dead body.
Or, preferably, over a spilled teacup.
Mira bustled in with my gown—lavender silk, soft and flowing, chosen last night in a fit of "heroine mimicry."
Today's plan: Become a heroine type. Kind. Gentle. Calm. No villainess sneers. No internal screaming. Smile softly. Sip tea. Exist like a background flower.
Cassian liked kind girls in the novel. Pure ones who didn't scheme or stalk.
I could do pure.
But—
Pfft... being nice? I've been acing that since my first life! It's literally easier than trying to pretend.
Valeria swept in mid-prep, already dressed like a final boss at a tea party: crimson velvet gown with black lace accents, hair in an elaborate updo pinned with ruby thorns.
She looked ready to conquer kingdoms.
Or poison punch bowls.
"Liriel," she said, eyeing my soft lavender. "You look... quaint."
I forced a soft smile. Heroine mode: activated. "Thank you, cousin. You look stunning as always."
She arched a brow. "Flattery? From you?"
Shit. Too nice. Villainesses don't compliment—they critique.
But Valeria's expression darkened as she adjusted her gloves. I knew why.
The Crown Prince Adrian Solare—her childhood crush, the golden heir who'd barely glanced her way since they were kids.
In the novel, he fell hard for Seraphina's angelic vibe at this very banquet.
Valeria muttered under her breath, "That commoner Lumière will show up in some borrowed rag, I bet. Thinking she can waltz in like she belongs."
I tugged her sleeve subtly. "Valeria. Control your face. You're radiating 'future prison arc' energy."
She shot me a glare. "Since when do you care about subtlety? You're my sidekick, Liriel. Act like it."
Crap, original Liriel would've been cackling with her by now...
Disappointment flickered in her eyes—brief, but there. Original Liriel would have joined the snark, plotting petty sabotage.
But I couldn't. Not today.
"My bad," I said, keeping my tone steady. "Just thinking a few steps ahead."
She huffed and swept out. "Don't you dare go soft on me now. We're cut from the same cloth, remember?"
The Noctyra carriage glided us toward the royal gardens under a sky so clear it was almost mocking.
Of course the weather's perfect when my life feels like it's one wrong move away from a total train wreck.
—
Venue was a dream: blooming arches, crystal fountains, tables laden with pastries and sparkling wines. Nobles milled in elegant clusters, laughter tinkling like bells.
I stepped out, chin high, soft smile fixed.
Heroine mode: full power.
A group of young ladies nearby spotted me. Their chatter died.
One whispered, "That's Liriel Noctyra. Remember what she did to Lady Elise at the last tea? Poured ink in her gown 'by accident.'"
Another nodded. "And she cornered poor Miss Clara over a dance card. Villainess through and through."
They scattered like leaves in wind.
My smile faltered.
Great. Bully rep: still active. Pure girl plan: failing in three minutes flat.
Valeria smirked beside me. "See? They fear us. That's power."
Yeah yeah, "power" this and "fear" that – I get it, cousin. Though I'd argue being feared is way more work than being liked. Now where in this sea of fancy hats is Cassian hiding...
I scanned the crowd for Cassian.
I didn't see him at first.
I felt him.
A familiar calm presence near the garden's perimeter. Steel-blue uniform. Straight posture. A knight standing guard like the world wouldn't dare misbehave on his watch.
Cassian Veldt.
There he is.
My bias.
My doomed side character.
My personal "I will not let you suffer" project.
My heart did its stupid flip. Oh no... here comes that fluttery feeling that makes me want to hide behind an actual statue!
Valeria's words echoed: "If you want his attention, cousin, you'll have to stop hiding behind statues and start acting like a Noctyra."
She's right but WHY does my stomach feel like it's doing the cha-cha with butterflies?!
Fine. Bold move activated.
I lifted my hand—soft, elegant wave. Smile gentle.
He noticed.
Amber eyes met mine.
He inclined his head—polite nod. Small, almost imperceptible smile.
He saw me. He actually saw me. Progress!
I nearly tripped over my own dress from the shock.
I felt like Cupid just shot me with a cannon instead of a tiny arrow! Had to subtly press my palm against my chest to make sure my heart wasn't about to leap out and say hi itself...
Then horror struck.
Seraphina Lumiere.
Of course she sparkled.
Not metaphorically. The sunlight actually bent around her like it was contractually obligated. Pale blue dress, soft smile, eyes full of narrative importance.
The crowd shifted instinctively.
Ah. Yes. The heroine.
Beloved by fate.
Chosen by the author.
Blessed by the wind, the sun, and probably the gods.
Beside me, Valeria's jaw tightened.
"Still dressed so plainly," she murmured. "Does she not own mirrors?"
VALERIA. STOP.
I AM TRYING TO AVOID A VILLAINESS ROUTE BY PROXY.
And she was heading straight toward the fountain.
Straight toward Cassian.
NO. This is the first meet flag. The tragic route origin. Where he offers her a handkerchief for a 'spilled drink' and seals his doomed fate.
Internal alarms blared.
ABSOLUTELY NOT. HE DIES ALONE IN THE ORIGINAL. I REFUSE. MY BABY IS MINEEE?!
Panic mode: engaged.
I moved—casually, I thought—repositioning to intercept.
My foot caught a chair leg.
It toppled with a clatter.
Heads turned.
I recovered, "accidentally" bumping a table.
A teacup wobbled—spilled onto the path.
Right in Seraphina's way.
She stopped, skirt brushing the spill.
"Oh dear," she said softly, angelic voice like bells.
Cassian stepped forward—alert, concerned—offering a handkerchief.
NOOO—
But the spill blocked her path. She turned slightly, accepting help from a nearby attendant instead.
Cassian paused, handkerchief in hand, glancing at the chaos source.
Me.
Our eyes met again.
I froze, soft smile cracking into awkward grin.
He nodded once more—curious now?—before resuming his post.
Seriously?! All that chaos, all this effort to hijack his handkerchief moment, and I get another lousy nod?! I wanna dump a whole teapot over my own dress just so he'll offer me that damn cloth already!
"Fvcking hell," I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for the noble lady next to me to hear. She flinched like I'd just pulled out a dagger, grabbed her companion's arm, and scurried away faster than a rabbit from a fox.
Great. Now they think I'm plotting tea-based murder. Could this day get any more ridiculous?!
The moment passed.
No tragic meet.
Yet.
Valeria sidled up, voice low. "What was that, Liriel? You're acting like a fool."
I whispered back, "Just... redistributing destiny."
She rolled her eyes. "If you're going soft, at least do it competently. The Crown Prince is here—focus."
Meh. Not interested. Got my eyes on someone else.
Adrian Solare—golden hair, perfect smile—entered the gardens, drawing gasps.
Valeria tensed, eyes locked on him.
But he scanned the crowd... and his gaze lingered on Seraphina.
Valeria's hand tightened on her fan until it creaked.
I tugged her sleeve again. "Cousin. Breathe."
She shot me a venomous look. "Don't tell me to breathe. You're supposed to back me up, not play tea-spilling clown."
Guilt twisted. She was right—I was her sidekick in the novel. But I couldn't bully Seraphina. Not when it meant dragging Cassian down too.
The banquet continued—music, mingling, subtle schemes.
Ronan Eldridge—the Duke's son known for his deep love of all creatures, arrived a touch late.
Ronan spotted Seraphina, eyes softening like she was a rare rabbit.
Valeria muttered more snark about her "borrowed glow."
Valeria, stop! If you go full villain now, the doom flags activate early!
But the real panic hit when Cassian moved—toward Seraphina's table, perhaps on duty.
I "tripped" again—knocking a flower vase.
Water splashed.
Guests yelped.
Cassian diverted—helping steady the table.
His eyes met mine a third time.
Questioning now.
I mouthed a silent "sorry"—heroine mode slipping into chaos queen.
He just nodded—gentle, unreadable—and returned to post.
I clenched my fists so tight my rings dug into my skin, then blew a frustrated strand of hair out of my face.
Ugh! Nodded AGAIN?! I've turned this fancy banquet into a demolition derby, Valeria's giving me death stares like I've lost my mind, and all I get is a little head dip?! I'm this close to wearing a sign that says 'I DID THIS ON PURPOSE FOR YOU' – though knowing my luck, he'd just nod at that too!
—
The afternoon dragged into evening games and dances.
Seraphina shone, drawing Adrian and Ronan like moths.
Valeria seethed quietly.
I hovered near Cassian's periphery—no more waves, just "accidental" proximity.
Every glance from him sent my internal screaming into overdrive: He sees me. Really sees me. Maybe those quiet nods were his way of saying he doesn't buy the villainess act… or maybe he's just too polite to call me out on being a walking disaster.
As the sun set, Valeria pulled me aside.
"You're disappointing me, Liriel. Where's the fire? The schemes? If you keep playing nice, you'll drag us both down."
Her words stung—complicated cousin bond cracking.
Before I could respond, a servant approached: "Lady Valeria, Viscount Veldt requests a word about the... spill incidents."
My heart stopped.
Cassian...
Cassian? He's asking for Valeria?! Not me?! After all that chaos I caused just to get his attention?!
I shot out a hand and grabbed the servant's shoulder a little too tightly—my face probably looking like a ghost who'd just seen its own tombstone.
"Wait—Valeria? What about me? Liriel? I'm the one who was right there making messes left and right!"
The poor maid flinched, eyes wide with alarm. "I-I'm sorry, my lady... only Lady Valeria was named. Viscount Veldt said to bring her at once."
My entire world felt like it'd tipped over. Of course he mixed us up! I look like a lavender-clad grandma next to Valeria's dramatic villain couture—who wouldn't confuse me for her boring sidekick?!
Valeria let out a short, sharp laugh despite the irritation still etched on her face—no doubt leftover from the Crown Prince ignoring her entirely.
"Tch, 'spill incidents'—as if I'd stoop to clumsy stunts like that. And Adrian didn't even spare me a single glance… the bastard." She muttered the last part under her breath before straightening her gown.
I tugged at her sleeve desperately. "Cousin! Tell him he got the wrong person! I'm the walking disaster he's looking for—you look way too put-together to be responsible for any of this mess!"
Valeria just rolled her eyes and gave my forehead a light flick.
"Relax, you drama queen. I'll set him straight—though honestly, mixing us up? The man needs his eyes checked. Now come on, before I change my mind and let you take the blame yourself."
With that, she followed the maid, leaving me standing there looking like I'd just been dumped by destiny itself.
~🫶