Overhearing Whispers

Once she was alone again, making her way back through the grand halls of the Estate, she let out a slow breath. The first step had been successful. She had managed to hold her ground without revealing too much. But this was only the beginning. She still had to survive the Faremont Celebration.

The corridors of the Vosswell manor were far too quiet for comfort.

Delphia walked slowly through the halls, taking in every detail. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting soft golden light across the marble floors. The grandeur of the estate was undeniable, but there was an underlying chill in the air that even the opulence couldn't dispel.

As she moved deeper into the manor, she noticed the subtle way the servants stiffened as she passed. Their eyes darted away quickly, their postures rigid. She felt their discomfort like a physical weight pressing against her. It didn't surprise her; Delphia Vosswell, as she remembered from the novel, had not been a woman who garnered affection.

She paused by an open doorway, peering into a small side room where a few maids were busy folding linens. Their voices were hushed, but the tension in the air carried their words through the hall. "…Can you believe it? Duke Faremont's real daughter, switched all this time," one of the maids whispered, her voice tinged with awe. "I know," another responded. "Calista Faremont… raised as a commoner, only for her magic to bloom and identify her blood. It's like something out of a fairy tale."

Calista Faremont. The heroine of The Rose of Avalon. The one who had been switched at birth, only to be found again, her true lineage revealed when her magic awakened. This was the start of it all—the catalyst that set the entire plot into motion.

"They say that Duke Faremont is throwing a grand celebration to introduce her to the Nobility," the first maid continued, folding a pillowcase with practiced ease. "Everyone's talking about it. Apparently, she's as beautiful as they say, and with magic so strong at so young… it's no wonder the Crown Prince took an interest."

The mention of the Crown Prince made her stomach tighten. Alaric Aramore, of course. The fated partner who would inevitably fall in love with Calista, leaving a trail of melodrama in his wake.

"And Lady Delphia?" The second maid whispered, her voice dropping lower. "What do you think she'll do? Everyone knows she's… well…"

There was a brief silence before the first maid responded cautiously, "The Miss hasn't been herself today. She used to be so… intense. Always talking about the Crown Prince, always in such a temper; But lately, she's been quiet. Too… quiet."

Her heart sank. Even the servants noticed the old Delphia's obsession.

The 'Delphia' who had thrown herself at Alaric with reckless abandon, blind to the consequences.

The 'Delphia' who had lashed out at anyone who stood in her way.

But that wasn't her.

Not anymore.

She stood there, listening to the maids as they continued their conversation, their words sinking into her like stones in a pond. "This celebration will be the start of everything," the second maid said quietly. "Lady Delphia may not say much now, but once the Crown Prince starts showing Calista attention..."

"…It's all going to go downhill," the first maid finished grimly.

The start of everything.

The celebration marked the first plot point—the moment Calista's rise began and Delphia's inevitable fall followed. This was where the power shift started, where Delphia's jealousy and obsession with Alaric would push her into more drastic actions, setting her on the path toward ruin.

She swallowed hard. She knew this moment in the story. It was where Delphia had gone from a bitter rival to an active antagonist, constantly scheming to undermine Calista, only to dig her own grave in the process. But the 'Delphia' she had read about had been flat, one-dimensional—just a caricature of a villain, created to make Calista shine all the brighter. The 'Delphia' of the novel had been irrational, consumed by jealousy and petty rivalries, a mere obstacle in the way of the heroine's happiness.

But now that she was living in Delphia's body, everything felt more… Complicated.

The way the servants spoke about her, the way the maids avoided her eyes—it wasn't just fear. There was something else beneath the surface. Was it pity? Resentment? Maybe both; She wasn't sure. She hadn't expected to feel anything in this new life. Her plan had been simple: survive; Stay out of the way; Avoid the drama. But now, standing here, she could feel it—the faint, lingering emotions tied to Delphia's body.

Sadness.

Isolation.

Resentment.

These weren't the emotions of a flat, one-note villainess. No, these were the feelings of someone who had been misunderstood, trapped by her own choices, by the expectations of the people around her.

She pressed a hand to her heart, trying to push away the strange ache there. She had no intention of becoming the old 'Delphia.' She wouldn't let herself spiral into a mess of jealousy and obsession, but she also couldn't ignore the fact that 'Delphia' had been a person with real emotions. Not just the villainess of Calista's story.

Taking a step back from the doorway, she continued down the hall, her mind racing.

If this was the starting point of the plot, she needed to tread carefully. She had skimmed so much of the novel after the Faremont Celebration, eager to get through the love triangles and romantic drama. Now, that carelessness was coming back to bite her. There were gaps in her memory—details she wasn't sure of, potential dangers lurking in the background that she hadn't paid enough attention to.

What did Calista do next? She wondered, trying to piece together what she could remember. The rise of Calista as the 'true' daughter of Duke Faremont meant that Calista would be thrust into the world of Nobility, quickly gaining popularity and drawing attention from powerful figures, including Alaric. From there, it had all snowballed—the admiration of the Nobility, the jealousy of Delphia, the scheming, the eventual downfall.

But those were just the broad strokes.

The details of how things escalated, how Delphia's actions had turned from petty to destructive—those were fuzzy at best. After she got to the first Plot Point, she skimmed—eager to get through the budding romance and melodrama, looking for the parts where Zypher showed up. I should have paid attention to it more, she chided herself. She couldn't afford to make any missteps; If she wasn't careful, she could easily trigger the same chain of events that led to Delphia's downfall.

She reached the grand staircase and stopped, gripping the banister tightly. The soft hum of activity filled the air as servants moved about the manor, preparing for the upcoming tea party. The world of Nobility was unforgiving, and every action would be scrutinized. It was only a matter of time before the eyes of society turned toward her, expecting her to play her role as the Villainess.

But I won't, she thought, her jaw tightening with determination. I'm not going to be the Delphia they remember.

She didn't care about the Crown Prince or his fated romance with Calista. She didn't care about being part of Calista's melodramatic rise to power. All she wanted was to survive.

To navigate this world without falling into the same traps as the old Delphia.

But now, she wasn't just surviving for herself. She was slowly beginning to realize that Delphia, the real Delphia, had been more than just a Villainess. There was a complexity to her, emotions that ran deeper than the novel had ever shown. And if she was going to survive, she needed to find out more. She needed to be careful, tread lightly, and most importantly—she needed to stay one step ahead of the story's inevitable twists.

With a final deep breath, she pushed off from the banister and made her way back up the hall towards her room, her mind still buzzing with the weight of her new reality. The celebration was coming, and it would be the first real test of her ability to navigate this world without falling into Delphia's old patterns.

Survival, she reminded herself again, the word echoing in her mind like a mantra. That's all that matters.

But a quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered something else—a possibility she hadn't considered. What if I could change more than just my fate? What if I could rewrite the entire story?

For now, though, she needed to learn the rules of the game. And the first step was understanding the people who currently surrounded her—allies, enemies, and those who fell somewhere in between.