Something really unpleasant.
Nero!! Why didn't you warn me beforehand?
[Because I knew this is how you'd react.]
That's not fair! If you'd told me beforehand, I would've been prepared for the pain!
I couldn't see him, but I just knew he was giving me that "are you serious right now" look.
[At least you know.]
I groaned under my breath. Great. My magical system had a sense of humor.
"Seraphina, dear, let's get you to bed," Mum said gently, already standing. "I'm not sure you're quite alright yet."
Her worried tone made my chest twist a little. She wasn't scolding, just… genuinely concerned. For me.
I opened my mouth to insist I was fine—then swayed a bit in my chair. Okay, maybe not that fine.
"Yeah," I muttered weakly. "Maybe… a nap sounds good."
Mum nodded, relieved, and motioned for one of the maids to help.
As they guided me toward my room, Nero's voice hummed again in the back of my mind.
[Try not to panic when more memories surface, alright? The next few might sting a bit.]
Oh, perfect. More pain and drama on the way. Exactly what every freshly reincarnated villainess needed.
The moment my head hit the pillow, the world went dark. Not peaceful dark—more like "here comes the emotional trauma slideshow" dark.
Then came the pain again—sharp, pulsing, but not as bad as before. Images flickered behind my eyes.
Seraphina standing in a classroom, sunlight catching her blond hair, magic swirling around her fingertips like it belonged there. Students around her staring—some in awe, most in envy.
[You were brilliant,] Nero said matter-of-factly. [Top of your class, never missed a spell, probably invented a few without realizing it.]
I watched as younger Seraphina smiled faintly at her perfect spellwork—then the scene twisted. The same students whispering, snickering, throwing glances that dripped with jealousy.
"She thinks she's better than us," one girl sneered."She probably cheats," another muttered.
[They were jealous,] Nero continued, tone annoyingly casual for someone narrating trauma. [You never cared what people thought, and they didn't like that.]
The memory shifted again—Seraphina cornered by a group of girls, their smiles too sweet to be friendly. Her eyes cold, chin lifted.
"Move," she said flatly.
They didn't. So she did what any self-respecting villainess would do—froze their shoes to the floor and walked away like a queen.
[And that's when they accused you of bullying,] Nero added, his tone dry. [Because apparently having self-respect is a crime.]
I groaned. "Seriously? She stands up for herself, and she's the villain?!"
[Ah, yes. The classic logic of insecure people: 'If you don't let us walk over you, you must be evil.']
I would've laughed if my chest didn't ache. The memories kept coming.
Seraphina alone at lunch. Seraphina sitting by the academy fountain, pretending she didn't care. The only person who sometimes sat beside her was the First Prince—a calm, kind boy with eyes that saw more than he said.
He smiled at her once, handing her a book."Don't let them get to you," he'd said.
But then, duty called him away, and she was alone again.
When the final image faded, I was lying there, staring at the canopy above my bed.
My chest felt tight—like I'd lived someone else's loneliness and couldn't quite shake it off.
"She really had it rough," I whispered. "No wonder she got labeled the villain."
[Yeah, people hate what they can't outshine,]
Nero said. Then after a beat, he added, [Also, maybe because she hexed one of the royal tutors for being sexist.]
I blinked. "...Okay, that part I respect."
[Thought you might.]
Silence stretched for a bit. The more I thought about it, the heavier it got.
Because the truth was… I understood her.
Before this whole reincarnation mess, I'd been kind of the same. Keeping my head down, pretending I didn't care when people whispered or left me out. The only difference was—Seraphina had fought back.
And I never did.
My throat tightened, just a little.
"She wasn't heartless," I murmured. "Just… tired."
[Yeah,] Nero said quietly. [But hey, look on the bright side—you're her now. You can do things differently.]
"Differently?" I scoffed weakly. "You mean try not to slap royalty?"
[No, absolutely still slap royalty. Just… maybe with better timing.]
I couldn't help it—I laughed. A real one this time.
"Fine," I said, wiping my eyes. "Better timing. Got it."
[That's the spirit, Host. Now, go to sleep before I start quoting motivational scrolls.]
I snorted, rolling over. "You wouldn't dare."
[Try me.]