[Wake up, host.]
Nero's voice buzzed faintly in my head, dragging me out of a perfectly good sleep.
I groaned, stretching like a cat, my arms flopping uselessly against a mountain of ridiculously soft pillows. The bed was too comfortable—unfairly so.
Blinking the sleep away, I glanced around—and immediately regretted it.
"So much pink," I muttered.
The room looked like someone had declared war on subtlety. The curtains were pink, the bedsheets were pink, the wallpaper was a lighter shade of pink, and even my nightgown was pink. I looked like a marshmallow with commitment issues.
It was like living inside a bakery that had exploded.
[Why don't you like pink, host?] Nero asked, his tone innocent, like he wasn't poking at emotional landmines.
I sighed, rubbing my arm. "It's not that I don't like it… it just brings back bad memories."
Silence. A long, quiet silence that said Nero understood more than he wanted to admit.
[…Sorry, host.]
I smiled faintly, even though he couldn't see it. "Don't worry about it. It's all in the past."
The morning sunlight streamed through the frilly curtains, coating everything in a soft, sugary glow. I swung my legs off the bed, my toes sinking into the plush carpet.
"Well," I muttered, eyeing my reflection in the ornate mirror, "I'm literally living in a princess room. I'm living the dream."
[Correction: you're living Seraphina's dream. Which, if I recall, includes a web of gossip, betrayal, and one very punchable fiancé.]
"Ugh. Way to ruin the moment, Nero."
[Just doing my job.]
I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the small smile tugging at my lips. "So… how do I become the perfect villainess?"
[Simple. I'll give you quests to complete—small steps on your path to elegance, power, and eventual world domination.]
"Nero!"
[…Or, you know, you could just focus on being composed and terrifyingly graceful first.]
"Better." I smirked. "World domination can wait until after breakfast."
[That's the spirit.]
Before I could say more, a knock came at the door—soft but precise.
"Come in," I said automatically, my tone shifting. My voice came out calm, clear, and effortlessly regal—like it had been trained for years to sound that way.
A young maid entered, head bowed slightly. Her uniform was spotless, and her posture could have rivaled a statue.
"Good morning, Lady Seraphina," she said respectfully. "I've come to assist you in getting ready. The Duke and Duchess await you for breakfast."
I straightened, my expression cooling without effort. My words slid out smooth and formal, like they'd been rehearsed.
"Very well," I said. "Prepare what's necessary."
The maid curtsied and hurried to open the wardrobe, pulling out a gown of soft cream and gold that shimmered faintly in the light.
As she worked, I stood quietly, every movement instinctive—controlled. Seraphina's body knew how to behave like nobility, even if I didn't.
[You're good at this, host. You sound like you could scold a king for breathing too loudly.]
"I'm just... channeling the energy of someone who's always right," I murmured under my breath.
[So... you?]
"Obviously."
Once dressed, I glanced at my reflection again. The woman in the mirror looked untouchable—every curl, ribbon, and thread in place. Her golden hair gleamed in the morning light, and her emerald eyes were cool, steady, and sharp enough to cut.
"Perfect," I said softly.
[Breakfast time, Lady Doom.]
I lifted my chin, hiding a grin. "Let's make an entrance."