Pampered

Dear diary, today, Momma forced me to go to another tea party. She said that a proper young lady needs to learn how to socialize and that these gatherings are the best way to do so. She says it's time I make friends instead of acting like a hermit, that I will never find a husband this way. As if I care! I told her I didn't want to go—I made it very clear. But, in the end, I still ended up being dragged there like always. And the worst part was that She made it sound like I had a choice when she first asked, like I had some say in the matter. But she never intended to give me an option in the first place.

"Damn."

Magnolia sounded like a whiny kid, and maybe she was, but it didn't feel right reading this. She shut the diary quickly, fingers lingering on the cover before placing it back in its hidden spot, tucking it safely behind the jewelry box. Staring at her reflection in the vanity mirror, she met her own gaze—except it wasn't her own, was it?

Magnolia stared back.

This face. This room. All these things. They belonged to Magnolia. A girl whose life was tragically cut short. And Sofia... Sofia was an imposter. The god had told her that Magnolia was dead, but did that make any of this right?

Now in a foul mood, she glanced over at the mask.

"Where the hell am I gonna hide you, you big, fat… thing?"

The drawer beyond the jewelry box was too small to contain it, and there weren't many hiding spots in this overly pristine room. She picked it up by its long nose, swinging it in frustration. "So inconvenient," she huffed.

That was when it happened.

A deep, suffocating malice poured from the mask, its aura oozing from every carved detail of its face.

Sofia yelped and dropped it instantly, nearly toppling backward off the stool.

Cold fear slammed into her chest. The mask trembled mid-air, vibrating violently. The vibrations intensified with each passing second, as if something within it was struggling to break free. The oppressive aura curled around her limbs like the tendrils of a deep-sea monstrosity, pinning her in place. Her breath hitched, body frozen in place.

What the hell was happening? Had she offended the damned mask?

The creaking sound of shifting wood scraped against her ears as the mask's expression began to shift.

The once-frowning face twisted upwards into a malicious, mocking grin.

She felt like death was near.

Then—

POUF.

It plopped onto the vanity in a cloud of thick, swirling smoke. The mist drifted up into her face, yet it had no scent, no weight. It didn't even make her cough.

When it cleared, the mask was gone.

In its place was… a ring?

It looked like it was made of wood.

'What the hell?'

Sofia hesitated to touch it. The crushing aura from before was gone, but the memory of it clung to her like the aftertaste of something bitter.

She had thought that the mask would come to life and try to possess her if she ever activated it? Yet here it was, already doing whatever the hell it wanted—mocking her, taunting her. She hadn't even put it on yet. How much worse will it be if, by some horrid circumstances, she decides to use it to its fullest extent?

Was this a warning? A, "try me if you dare?"

Why a ring of all things?

"How suspiciously convenient," she muttered.

Against her better judgment, she reached out and picked it up. Slowly, she slid it onto her pinky finger.

Nothing happened.

No invisible force compelling her, no ominous energy. It was just a simple, polished wooden ring.

Sofia exhaled.

"I'm not that stupid," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I know what you're planning, you…you… thing. And I'm not gonna let you take over my body."

Silence.

Was it ignoring her? Or was she just being paranoid? No, she definitely wasn't paranoid.

Getting frustrated, she huffed. "You wanna be that way? Fine!" She gripped the ring, about to yank it off. "See if I ever use you, you bi—"

BANG!

The door to her room flew open, slamming against the wall.

Sofia nearly jumped out of her skin, her already-frayed nerves snapping under the sudden intrusion. Hand clutched to her racing heart, she whipped her head toward the doorway.

A girl stood there, panting, wide-eyed, and frazzled.

"A maid?"

"Magno—I mean, Milady! You're late!" the girl cried, making a beeline toward her.

Sofia barely had time to react. The maid was young, maybe fourteen or fifteen, with jet-black hair tied neatly into a bun, a simple black dress with a white apron, and an eager—if slightly panicked—expression. And she was coming at her fast.

'What should I do?!'

Sofia's brain short-circuited. First, the mask situation, now this? She was still recovering from one heart attack, and now another was incoming at full speed.

Time seemed to slow.

'Is this how I die?… again?'

Was she supposed to stop her? Move aside? Greet her? She didn't know, her mind was still stuck on the damn mask!

A serene acceptance washed over her. 'At least it's not a truck.'

Then, time snapped back into place.

The maid tripped—on nothing—and face-planted spectacularly, her momentum dragging her all the way to Sofia's feet.

Sofia barely managed to hold back a gasp as the girl lifted her head, scratches on her face, eyes glassy with impending tears.

"Are you oka—"

The maid burst into full-blown sobs before she could finish.

"I'm sorry!" the girl wailed. "I overslept, and now you'll be late!"

Sofia froze.

'Oh no. Crying person.'

She was never good at comforting crying people. And, apparently, transmigrating into another body hadn't miraculously changed that.

"Uh…" Awkwardly, she reached out and patted the girl's head. "There, there… don't cry."

The maid immediately stopped crying.

'Damn. I'm good at this,' Sofia thought. 

Then, the girl erupted into tears again. 

'Nevermind.' She immediately took it back.

"You're so kind to me, Milady!" The girl sniffled, wiping her face.

Sofia let out a slow breath. 'Oh god. This is going to be a thing, isn't it?'

Sofia starred in mild horror as the girl jumped to her feet, newfound resolve shining in her teary eyes. "I'll be quick! I won't let you be tardy!"

"Wai—"

Sofia barely had time to blink before she felt a sudden breeze where a breeze shouldn't be.

Her nightgown was gone.

Her body—bare.

And the maid had an expression of intense determination. Sofias nightgown clutched in her fists.

'What… the… F—'

…

Surprisingly, what happened next wasn't as terrifying as she expected.

Before she could protest, she was dragged into the luxurious bathing room, sweet scents filling the air. 

'Right. Magnolia was a noble. Of course, her maid would handle this. No need to freak out.'

And she didn't freak out.

Until the claw-footed bathtub started filling by itself.

With just a touch from the maid, water seemingly materialized from nowhere, rising to fill the tub. Sofia had the presence of mind to think, 'Magic? It must be.'

The maid unceremoniously dumped her into the bath. At least it was warm.

When it came time to wash her hair, the porcelain pitcher floated.

'Floated?!'

Yes floated, gliding through the air independently and pouring water perfectly as the maid worked.

Sofia kept her face neutral. 'Must not arouse suspicion.'

Drying was the same—one touch, and the towel wrapped itself around her, energy humming through it as every drop of moisture vanished.

Aether.

She could see it now. The energy moved from the maid's arm, through her wrist, into her hands, and into the objects she touched. Was this how simple an Aether application was? How that hell was simply sending your Aether into an object able to achieve such complex results? Like the objects had a mind of their own. And water can't simply come from nowhere, plus it was the perfect temperature for a bath. There must've been something she was missing.

The hair towel hummed, released a soft puff of steam, and—voila—her hair was dry too.

At some point, Sofia gave up trying to understand it.

Now seated back at the vanity, she let the maid work, indulging in the pampering. It was relaxing. Accessories, light makeup, elegant layers of clothing—all comfortable, all luxurious. 

She felt like a doll being dressed up: A delicate white chemise, lace-trimmed drawers, a snug but comfortable corset, a corset cover, and two layers of petticoats. Stockings and garters secured her legs before the main event: a breathtaking mint-green gown. High neckline, long sleeves, a fitted bodice, and a voluminous skirt that cascaded like flowing water.

Her maid held up two pairs of shoes.

"Buttoned boots or heeled slippers, Milady?"

Sofia smiled. "Buttoned boots."

Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt… beautiful. Magnolia truly was gorgeous, and this ensemble only emphasized it. The rich fabric of the gown, the delicate lace, the way everything fit just so—it was like stepping out of a portrait.

Then came her favorite part.

The maid presented a pair of gloves, and Sofia's heart did a little pitter-patter. She took them eagerly, sliding the smooth fabric over her hands. More than just an elegant finishing touch, they served a purpose—concealing the damned wooden ring.

She had decided it was safer to keep the thing on her. Leaving a potentially cursed object lying around in someone else's house didn't seem like the smartest move. At least this way, she could monitor it—make sure it wasn't up to anything suspicious. And for now, it wasn't oozing any menacing aura, just sitting there like an ordinary piece of jewelry.

All very suspicious, of course. But what choice did she have?

'Surely, if it was truly dangerous, the god wouldn't have given it to me as a gift, right?'

…Yeah. That was probably right.

"Milady."

Sofia nearly jumped out of her skin.

'Is she trying to give me a heart attack?!'

She exhaled sharply, smoothing her expression before turning to the maid. "Yes?"

"We're already running behind. We shouldn't keep your master waiting."

'Master, huh?'

Sofia hesitated for only a second before straightening her posture. "Very well. Lead the way."

She said that for two reasons: One, because she had no idea where she was going, and saying "lead the way" seemed like a natural, dignified way to say please guide me before I embarrass myself and get lost in my own house.

And two… well, it felt noble.

She felt quite fancy saying that.

And just like that, she was off to meet her master. Whoever that was.