Chapter 1
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The prince’s birthday. Security in the capital was tighter than ever. Beneath the city walls, which were under strict guard, a splendid carriage approached the gate. The guards controlling the entrance stepped aside all at once the moment they confirmed the crest on the carriage.
The Avery Duchy. It was a meritorious family that even the royal family could not treat carelessly. True to a house of great power and influence, they owned a grand residence in the very center of the capital that was the envy of many. However, the current Duke and Duchess had been away from the capital for some time. It was widely known that they were staying in the countryside so their frail youngest daughter could recover.
But during the half year that the mansion had stood empty, ominous rumors spread through the capital. Anne Agnes Avery. The precious young lady of the ducal house was not actually ill, but possessed by an evil spirit. It was quite the nasty rumor.
However, that misunderstanding would end today. As if ignoring the eyes of others, the carriage sped along a familiar road and headed straight for the mansion. Inside the carriage, the Duchess, Catherine Avery, whispered gently to her daughter.
“Annie, how do you feel?”
“I feel fine, Mother.”
Anne answered in a composed manner. The girl, with softly curling golden hair, plump cheeks, and a doll-like appearance, was only five years old this year. But her speech and behavior were as proper as those of a high-born noble lady. Much more so than before she fell ill.
Her bright green eyes and healthy lips suggested her condition. There was no sign of sickness anywhere, yet Catherine continued to examine her daughter’s complexion with a worried expression.
“Are you really alright? If you don’t feel well, we can just go home.”
“No, I’m really fine.”
Anne quickly waved her hands. Things had already gone far off course, and she couldn’t let a day as important as today pass by. She had to check things properly so she could at least imitate them later.
Duke Avery silently watched the affectionate mother and daughter. Like many middle-aged men, his face appeared endlessly stern, but his eyes were as warm as any father’s.
Anne Agnes was the precious daughter the Duke and Duchess of Avery had late in life. Born smaller than others and often ill, she was their youngest child who received exceptional care. Then, half a year ago, she fell ill with a fever of unknown cause. Watching their daughter suffer through a terrible high fever night after night, the couple held hands and prayed. If only their daughter would live, they would ask for nothing more.
Perhaps that desperate prayer was answered. Not long after, Anne rose from her sickbed. There had been a very slight and unexpected side effect, but even that had improved greatly by now. Rather, even the chronic cough she had always suffered from disappeared, and she grew healthier day by day. The couple had nothing more to wish for.
The carriage stopped briefly in front of the mansion. The Duke tapped twice on the wooden wall to signal that all was well. The carriage slowly began to move again, heading toward a new destination.
Catherine pulled her daughter into an embrace.
“I want to show everyone how healthy you’ve become as soon as possible.”
“Me too, Mother.”
Anne looked out the window with expectant eyes. In the distance, the tall spires of the royal palace came into view.
She had finally arrived at the main stage.
* * *
Waiting alone inside the empty carriage, Anne suddenly clenched both fists. But despite her attempt to steel herself, the tiny fists were soft and plump, like freshly steamed dumplings.
She spread all ten fingers wide and let out a sigh. Short, chubby fingers with barely any visible joints. She still couldn’t get used to it. The fact that these hands, this body, were hers.
When she opened her eyes to a strange ceiling, she had been able to accept that much. True to a ‘romance fantasy’ setting, there were no hygiene issues, and she remembered most of the original story.
It wasn’t a dark intrigue story full of people killing each other, nor was it a bleak tragedy without dreams or hope. It was a calm emotional story centered on the romance between the male lead and female lead. Considering that, the situation wasn’t the worst.
Her role wasn’t bad either. She was the villainess, but her misdeeds amounted to nothing more than small acts of interference born of jealousy. That meant no miserable or horrifying end was waiting for her. With her looks and her family background, there was nothing lacking, so she only had to let things flow roughly according to the original and then find her own life.
If anything, it was a relief she wasn’t the female lead. After all, if you were the protagonist, it felt like you’d have to live much, much more diligently.
There was only one problem. Why did it have to start from the age of five?
Anne let out a heavy sigh that didn’t suit a child.
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