The Drama Queen

Vivian led the way, her heels clicking against the polished marble floors as she walked with practiced grace. Behind her, Leonard followed in quiet contemplation, his steps steady and deliberate. Alaric trailed after him, his sharp gaze flicking over their surroundings with the silent vigilance of someone always prepared for a sudden ambush or gossiping maids that is trying to eavesdrop.

Further behind, the cultists—the very reason this unexpected gathering had taken place—walked in stiff silence. Then came Isla, the female protagonist of the original novel, exuding an air of righteous indignation despite her clear desperation. Beside her, Anna, Vivian's ever-loyal lady-in-waiting, held her head high, utterly unapologetic for the slap she had delivered mere moments ago.

Lastly, the head maid and the butler brought up the rear, their expressions carefully schooled into blank professionalism, though their curiosity was evident in the way they subtly glanced at Isla's reddened cheek.

As they moved through the vast corridors of the grand duchy, Vivian considered telling Leonard and Alaric to leave. This was her matter to handle, and she neither wanted nor needed their interference. But as she mulled it over, she decided against it. They might be of some use, after all. Even if they weren't, there was no real need to chase them away.

And besides, unlike in the original novel, from Leonard behavior so far he does not seem to be blindly devoted to Isla. That alone changed everything.

In the book, Leonard had been a fool like so many characters, a man utterly smitten by the so-called "perfect" heroine, who believed every tear she shed and rushed to her defense at every opportunity. He had been Isla's loyal dog, willing to go to war against his own wife for her sake.

But here, now, in this reality, Leonard was different. She didn't have to fear that he would blindly support Isla's every word.

They soon reached her office. The duchess's workspace was traditionally meant to be located near the duke's, but Leonard had deliberately arranged for hers to be on the opposite side of the castle. A silent, unspoken decision that ensured they never had to cross paths. Even as husband and wife, he and the original host of this body had been nothing more than strangers sharing a name.

Once everyone entered the office and settled into their seats, the tension in the air thickened.

The moment the doors shut, Isla wasted no time launching into her performance.

With dramatic flair, she lifted her trembling fingers to her cheek, where Anna's handprint was still visible. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she turned to Leonard, her voice wavering just enough to evoke sympathy from anyone who didn't know better.

"Your Grace," she began, her voice the perfect mixture of sorrow and indignation. "You must seek justice for me! Just because I come from a lower background than the duchess doesn't mean she and her lady-in-waiting can treat me this way." She cast a fleeting, pitiful glance at Vivian before continuing. "At the end of the day, I am still a guest in your estate."

Vivian almost burst out laughing.

A guest?

She had to give Isla credit for her audacity. Even now, caught in the middle of her own schemes, she still had the gall to paint herself as the innocent victim.

Vivian leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she observed the unfolding spectacle.

This was Isla's classic approach, twisting the truth, shifting the blame, and playing the helpless damsel. No matter who hurt her, no matter the circumstances, she always found a way to trace it back to Vivian, making it seem as though she was the root of all her misfortunes.

It had been the same in the original novel. Isla had mastered the art of playing the misunderstood heroine, the poor, mistreated girl suffering at the hands of the "jealous and bitter" duchess.

Even when Vivian had done nothing, even when others acted of their own accord, Isla always made sure to link it back to her.

And Leonard, foolish, lovestruck Leonard and the rest of the male leads and other characters had believed it every time.

Back then, he had fought with Vivian over and over again because of Isla. He had accused her, doubted her, and turned his back on her, convinced that she was the villainess Isla painted her as.

And now, as Vivian sat in this room, watching the same old script play out before her, she felt a deep, simmering resentment toward him once again.

Her gaze drifted toward Leonard, and she didn't bother to hide the look of pure disdain that crossed her face.

To everyone else, it seemed as though she was glaring at him because he had caused this entire problem, the rumors of him being Isla's lover had started all of this, after all.

But Vivian knew better.

Leonard, for his part, noticed her glare. His jaw tightened, his golden eyes darkening with unreadable emotion. He didn't say anything, but the air around him grew colder.

And then, slowly, his gaze shifted to Isla.

If she had been hoping to find a trace of warmth or concern in his expression, she was sorely mistaken.

Instead, Leonard's lips curled into a cold, humorless smile. His voice, when he finally spoke, was sharp as a blade.

"Lady Isla," he said, each word measured and deliberate, "you should be careful how you speak of my wife."

Isla stiffened.

Leonard leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes narrowing.

"And let's get one thing straight—you are not a guest in this estate. I don't know why you're still here when neither of its owners have agreed to let you stay." His voice dipped lower, dangerously soft. "And lastly, if my wife truly wanted to bully you… you wouldn't even be breathing right now."

The room fell into a stunned silence.

Isla's face paled. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Vivian, meanwhile, found herself momentarily stunned.

It wasn't the words that surprised her, it was the way he said them. The sharp edge in his tone, the unmistakable finality in his voice.

And, perhaps most dangerously of all, the way he looked at Isla with nothing but cold indifference.

The Leonard she had known in the novel, the man who had been one of Isla's most devoted protector, was long gone.

The realization sent an unexpected tremor through her heart.

It makes her heart full of joy as she understands that he is speaking for her

Vivian scowled.

Her pulse had quickened, and she didn't like it one bit.

"The male lead has too much influence on this body," she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples as she felt a headache settling in.

She already had enough to deal with transmigrating into a novel, navigating the mess of its main characters, and dealing with the consequences of the original storyline.

Now, she had to deal with her own body reacting to Leonard as well?

She sighed.

Transmigration was truly a nightmare.