⸸ Present Time: Where Everything Begins ⸸

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

My eyes fluttered open, I rubbed my head that was throbbing with pain. I feel weak all over my body.

"What a waste.. I thought I was dead."

What the hell happened to me? As far as I remember, I was killed by that bastard and then...it turned dark.

But I have a dream, a woman and she's delusional.

What's her name again? Anastasia? But it's none of my business now.

'Pfft.'

I chuckled, How could someone like her, much less, a kid born from nobility could have such unrealistic beliefs?

I sat up the hard and plain bed, as I darted my eyes around, I was met by the sight of a.. room.

The room was neatly cleaned and I noticed which era it came by the way it was built. It came from the 15th century.

Everything was set to modernity, but this place seemed like it was still stuck in the past?

I continued to look around the room and noticed the blanket that was tucked snugly around my body.

It was made from thick, hand-woven linen, its texture was sturdy.

"Ugh, what is this? It's like a sackcloth." I tossed it aside.

'who lives in this place? Is this some kind of secret base?'

I got up and took a few steps, my eyes already calculating. This place was a prison, a cage, and I had to figure out how to get out.

My gaze fell on the mirror....

As I gazed at the reflection, taking in the unfamiliar figure and face.

The red hair was familiar, Was this Anastasia's? So...she grew up?

This is why I feel like.. I was weak, It was because I became her vessel.

"Suboptimal." I mumbled. I was planning to exploit this body and pushed it to the extent of its potential.

I couldn't even feel anything, like this body was on the verge of collapsing.

But it would give me a large amount of benefit, I have 'Assets' it's a perfect tool to use.

Anastasia's body is perfect for manipulating the others around me, this elegant beauty and stunning body.

I went out of the room and walked down the stairs, I found the living room.

As I whipped my head to the other side, Its the kitchen.

I walked towards the kitchen and found a small knife, I grabbed it and held it tightly.

When the door suddenly opened, I hid the knife behind me and turned around.

Only to find an angry old woman standing outside the door and the next thing she did was throw a cloth on my face.

It was a rag. The old woman threw a cloth at me.

The impact was modest. I scarcely registered it. Such weak acts of violence just amused me.

I love pain, she could've thrown the broom beside her, either way, her attack will be clumsy and weak, it won't do anything, she's old.

"HEY YOU!" Her shrill voice was frustrating. "Since you're awake and you wasted your time collapsing! You should be punished! You won't eat any dinner tonight, you reckless and stupid child!"

The injustice, the arbitrary nature of the punishment and controlled rage.

This was a challenge to me and challenges are handled with calculated retaliation.

"Now go and work! WORK ON THOSE CROPS AND DON'T RETURN

I pretended to hesitate, a flicker of doubt in my eyes.

"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT!? DONT JUST STANT THERE AND DO NOTHING!" The old woman yelled and grabbed the broom beside her.

Threatening to throw it at me, I was about to laugh at her futile attempts to hit me, but I held myself. "GO AND WORK!"

I concealed the small knife by putting it inside my sleeves and complied at the old woman's command.

Compliance was only a temporary solution; obedience was a temporary strategy

After all, I still have to master my surroundings and plan what's next.

When I walked past her, she swung her arm at me, In a pitiful attempt at intimidation.

I pretended to recoil in order to see how she would respond.

Her actions were awkward and her rage is palpable, but deep down, she could see the gleem in her eyes.

'I see...'

Anastasia.. the supposed future countess, fell from grace and was abused.

✞⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺✞⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺✞⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

I never done this before.

The smell of soil and something slightly fragrant filled my nostrils as sweat dripped down my spine.

Though I feel disgusted, I maintained a neutral expression.

I had discovered that the old woman's name was Elara, and she had thrown me into this field with a rusted hoe and a vague directive to "work."

I saw how awkward and ineffective the other farmhands' moves were.

Their hands were rough and calloused, their backs bowed, their faces strained with effort.

'Pathetic,' I thought. They used antiquated techniques and crude implements. amateurs.

Others would give me a few nods and the other half would ignore; Arrogant.

After meticulously observing them, I mimicked their actions.

And suddenly, A woman passed by and deliberately 'pushed' me.

I tumbled down the crops and the mud stained my clothes and arms.

"Oh! Oh gosh! I'm sorry!" Her voice was an act of deception and honeyed apology.

I pulled myself up and gazed up at her; her surprised, and extremely bright face, even uncomfortably cheery manner an act of disguise.

She covered her mouth in feigned shock and innocence.

"Are you alright, Anastasia? Are you hurt!?" She asked, worried as she crouched in front of me. "Oh gosh! I'm truly sorry!"

She grabbed her handkerchief and wiped my arms..

But smudge the handkerchief with mud over my cheeks, her face was a mask of feigned sympathy.

....

"HOY!" Elara yelled and hurried towards us.

"What's happening here, Isabella!?" She barked, pointing both of us.

The name... Isabella, is a prone name to act innocent.

I remembered something that almost made me laugh, but I quickly stopped myself and brushed it off.

"I'm sorry madame! I didn't mean to! I accidentally bumped over her and she fell!" She exclaimed and cried.

Isabella's response was quick, a rehearsed act of innocence.

"I'm sorry, madame! I didn't mean to! I accidentally bumped over her and she fell!"

Her voice was loud and brittle, tinged with false anguish.

Tears welled up in her eyes and instantly dried when she caught Elara's stare.

Her eyes sparkled with a wicked glimmer before being instantly veiled again.

She's a narcissist and I would like to tell that her 'clumsy' attempt will not go unpunished.

"Why are you staying in the middle?! You know that people are walking by! You stupid child! Apologize to her!"

I was being scolded.

The words scratched across my ears, like claws on a chalkboard.

My pulse quickened, but not with dread or humiliation.

It was a simmering rage that boiled in my core, They did this to me...

I stood up and bowed. "I humbly apologize."

"I promise to be more careful in the future and not cause you any trouble." I smiled.

I lifted my head back but it didn't escape me from seeing the subtle smirk of Isabella and Elara was brushed it off.

"I already have her punished for collapsing, starving is enough punishment for her to learn!" She spat.

"And you!" She looked at Isabella. "Help me cook the dishes, were having a feast later on."

"But Madame! Isn't it too cruel for Anastasia! She'll starve!" isabella said, feigning concern. "And she's dirty!" With a hint of disgust.

She gazed at me and I could see a hint of triumph on her eyes, she was enjoying my fortune.

Elara barked, her voice laced with anger and disdain. "Don't be sorry for that brat! She needs to learn her lesson! Now, let's go!" She turned her back. "NOW ALL OF YOU! BACK TO WORK!" She yelled.

Everyone who was listening to the commotion turned their backs and continued to work.

Isabella turned to me and apologized. "I'm truly sorry! Anastasia!" She said, crying and left, following Elara.

But it didn't escape the cruel smirk on her face as she turned around...

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺✞⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺✞⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺