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My name is Ray Degrassi.
Author of the most famous webnovel in diamond city. Weeping hill.
Not famous because it was incredibly good… no.
Famous because of its terrible ending. Its unsolved mysteries. Plot holes I had ignored, pretending they were "open endings".
And most especially, because I killed off the villainess.
A character I had believed deserved to die.
Apparently the fans did not agree.
They hated me for it. For writing the ending of my own story.
They tore comment sections apart. Threatened to boycott my future work. They called me heartless, lazy, and talentless.
Some even said Celestine was the most tragic character in the entire novel and that I had ruined her by killing her.
Funny thing was….
I did agree with them. Not just enough to rewrite the ending.
And now?
Here I was, sitted in the body of that very character.
Celestine Varondulf. The villainess of my story.
Trying to create a worthy ending— something I had stubbornly refused to do, even under threat of cancellation from my publishing platform. Even when I lost thousands of fans overnight.
I stood by my decision.
A decision I quickly took back the moment I found myself faced at death's door.
Attacked in my own home by a masked man. My bathroom in ruins. Shattered glass, blood on the floor and my phone lighting up before my vision went dark.
And then. A blue screen appeared. Floating.
SYSTEM INITIALIZING.
I remember thinking this was either a concussion…Or those ridiculous videos on Mi-tube were right, and reality really was some kind of stimulation.
The next time I opened my eyes, I was her.
The villainess.
Given the mission: rewrite a worthy ending, and return back home.
And so, believing the only way to stop the future awaiting this body.
Execution platform. False accusations. Betrayal. And death. Was to end the one thing that led to it in the first place.
Breaking off the arranged engagement between Her and the duke of north hill. Duke Lucian Valehale Iksander.
Unfortunately, I was wrong.
Because the translucent blue icon hovering above me had other plans. Shimmering with words I couldn't fathom.
NEW MISSION:
Re-engage with the Duke of Northhill.
FAILURE:
Consequences pending!!!.
Unbelievable. I had sleepless nights. Thoughts spiralling in my mind for days. Searching for a way to change this miserable fate. Only for the system to turn against me?.
Slowly, I swallowed, shoving another forkful of food into my mouth.
If it was going to give me a mission like this, why not sooner? I groaned, my free hand pressing onto my temples, from the throbbiness of my head.
A result of restlessness thinking.
I had to calm myself. The only way I knew how….
Eating.
Bite after bite, the food disappeared into my mouth, yet the taste barely registered, as my mind raced with everything I could have done wrong to have spurred such a mission.
Trying to make peace and be on good terms with characters in the book wasn't that hard.
But making a character like Lucian re-engage with Celestine?
Impossible.
No amount of life threatening situations or destiny would make that cold-hearted duke want anything to do with me again.
The Duke of North hill wasn't someone I could simply convince to marry me.
Even if I offered him power and protection, he was already the Grand general of Saenia. If anyone needed protection, it would be him giving it– not the other way around.
Unless….
A voice grabs my attention. Pulling me from my spiralling calculations.
"Youmust be hungry?" The marquis remarked, his tone intrigued but yet faintly amused.
I paused mid-bite, my gaze snapping to meet his. "I… I'm sorry" I mumbled, my cheeks full.
"It's alright," the marquis said with a soft smile, leaning back slightly. The warm glow of the sun casting a shadow across the scarred side of his face.
"I am just glad you are well enough to eat as much as you want. Isn't that right Elara?"
My gaze drifted slowly, towards Elara. She nodded gently. "Of course, let's just hope this isn't a permanent habit" she said, slicing a piece of bread and taking a bite, then continued. "It would be a shame if she doesn't fit into her wedding dress." Dabbing her lips with a napkin.
Since I woke up as Celestine, Elara had known something had changed. I wasn't the Celestine she knew.
And no matter how I tried to act like her, I couldn't. She didn't have to say it often, I could feel it in her gaze.
She had cried every time I said or did anything out of character. But now, she seemed to have learned to adjust. To manage her tears. To manage the new Celestine's behavior.
Still, I didn't care. I stared back at her with narrowed eyes, then took a second bite, one bigger than the last.
Not only did I have to worry about my mission, but now my weight. Splendid.
"The Duke paid Celestine a visit." Elara mentioned casually.
My fork froze mid-air.
"Really!" The marquis said. Surprise faint in his voice, but not reaching his eye. "What did he say?" His gaze locked on mine, glinting with a tint of green.
For a moment there was silence. It seemed as though the air specifically around me became thicker, heavier.
"Nothing…," I lied. "Just… our wedding."
Elara jolted from her seat in excitement. Her eyes wide with delight and surprise. "Really!" She exclaimed, practically bouncing in happiness.
"Then we should begin your marital training at once!" She said,
The marquis, wiping his mouth with a napkin, chuckled softly. "A wonderful idea," he said, nodding in approval.
Flooded with happiness, Elara excused herself, moving quickly to begin preparations.
The marquis rose as well. "I have a meeting with the crown prince," he said, patting my head gently before leaving.
And just like that, I was left alone.
The silence in the room pressed in around me, sharp and heavy. My fork lay abandoned on the table. My mind raced. My stomach full, my heart heavy, as I asked myself the question.
What was I going to do now?
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The council chamber was silent, as the ministers waited for the meeting to begin. The marquis, the special advisor of the kingdom of Saenia, sat at the head of the table. His posture composed but eyes sharp, scanning the gathered nobles.
Suddenly, the minister of defense broke the silence. His voice was laced with thinly veiled irritation. "I heard the Grand general has returned to the Capital, yet his appearance here hasn't been made. How rude of him."
The marquis leaned back, his expression remained calm. "He has only just returned. He may require rest. I would advise patience."
A murmur of approval mixed with skepticism ran through the room. Suddenly the chancellor spoke up, his tone defensive. "Are you taking his side because of the war, or he is going to be your son-in-law?"
The marquis's lips curved into a sly smile,"But, it is not easy to scratch at the edge of a war and still emerge victorious." he said calmly. His gaze sharpened as though visiting a memory, "I know…. because I've experienced it myself."
He paused, then leaned slightly forward, his voice softer but tinged with curiosity. "By the way, how is your son?" He asked, turning to the minister of defense. "I heard he is still touring overseas. Quite the opportunity…to escape the chaos of war, not everyone is granted such a privilege."
Then some ministers shook their head at the marquis's subtle jabs and dry humor.
At that moment, a tall figure approached. Entering into the chambers was the crown prince.
Crown Prince Erik Cordova of the Cordovain dynasty.
The ministers bowed, some more deeply than others. "You may rise," the crown prince said.
He glanced around the room, his gaze falling on the minister of defense. "I was the one who requested the Grand General be given time to rest. There should be no concern about his absence."
The minister of defense bowed his head.
From the corner of his sight, he could see the corner of the marquis' lips curled into a smile. While the other ministers exchanged quiet whispers.
The crown prince soon took his seat, his hands resting on the arm rest. "Now for our agenda for the meeting."
The marquis stood, he inclined his head slightly and then proceeded to address the prince. "Your highness, there has been unrest among the commoners.
"Disappearances and attacks have been reported. And the people urge action."
Then the minister of defense waved a dismissive hand. "Commoners vanish every year. It is hardly unprecedented."
"Unless," another minister said slowly, "it continues."
The crown prince leaned back slightly. "I am aware of the unrest. And measures have already been taken," he said. "There is no cause for panic."
Just then, the door burst open. A guard stumbled inside, armor clinking sharply against the stone. He dropped to one knee, breathing hard.
"Your highness," he said. The Chamber was in total silence.
The crown prince narrowed his eyes, "you interrupt a council meeting," he said calmly. "Speak."
The guard's gaze did not meet him.
"Your highness," he swallowed, "it is not only the commoners anymore."
The ministers exchanged uneasy glances as a ripple passed through the room.
"What do you mean?" The marquis demanded.
The guard hesitated, then forced the words out."A noble house has gone silent…, its heir is missing."
The crown prince slowly rose to his feet, his gaze deep."How long?" He asked.
The guard shook his head. "We do not know yet, your highness."
Silence swallowed the chamber whole, for they knew what had begun could be far greater than them.
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Heels clacked on the cold marble floors, echoing across the stretched out corridors. Maids with trays bowed and greeted with respect as they walked past Aziah .
His strides, long and purposeful, took him straight to the giant double door at the end of the corridor.
He knocked once, and a voice responded from within.
"Come in." Lucian answered.
The moment Aziah opened the door, the air greeted him faintly with the scent of cauliflower. The room slightly dimmed, but the light from the moon poured through the open windows of the balcony.
Aziah moved closer in silence, observing as the Duke painted. Lucian gaze was deep, his pupil glinted with an intense but yet almost unsettling focus. "Aren't you going to say anything?" He asked, his eyes remained on the streak of blue and yellow spreading across the canvas.
"How was your visit to the marquis's estate?" Aziah finally spoke.
Lucian paused. His brush tips stopped at the edge of the painting. "It was…. Interesting." He said, then tossed the paint brush into a basin by the side.
He wiped the paint off his hands with a piece of cloth, the color stains bled into it.
"Any news?" He asked, as he walked towards the oak desk by the side of the balcony. Rummaging through searching for something.
"I found him…" Aziah heaved deeply.
Lucian froze. His body tensed up, either from
Aziah words or from the fact he had found what he had been looking for.
His gaze lifted, falling on the scroll within Aziah 's grasp. He handed it over, as Lucian's eyes scanned through the words written in the paper then calmly spoke. His voice, deep.
"How sure are you, this is him?"
"There has been so much false information, but I can assure you, my sources this time are correct," he continued. "This is the designer…"
Lucian's gaze deepened. His stare slowly left the scroll and landed on the handkerchief he held tightly, observing the delicate embroidered design.
A warm feeling slowly crept up on Lucian. Orphaned at a young age, he had clung to the one thing that gave him hope. And now, after years of searching there was finally something.
At last, it was time to find the owner of this handkerchief.
His savior.