The original story was absolute.
Everyone spoke predetermined lines and made predetermined expressions. Not a single person ever frowned.
The Lindsey household was, quite literally, perfect. How creepy that perfection was, Summer was now feeling it with every fiber of her being.
“Good morning, Miss!”
“...Go away.”
“Shall I prepare rose tea? It just arrived today!”
Despite Summer’s cold attitude, the maid left with a lively voice.
Not a single maid showed any sign of exhaustion. They moved mechanically, without complaints.
After repeating the same routine for a month, Summer realized this place was part of a novel, and it became terrifying for three main reasons.
Firstly, everyone was like a puppet. They repeated the same words and actions like marionettes.
“Miss, I brought the tea.”
“What’s your name?”
“Does it suit your taste?”
“I asked for your name.”
“I’m glad it suits your taste!”
“Get lost.”
“Please call me whenever you need anything.”
Whether the maid left or not, Summer irritably gulped down the rose tea.
Secondly, unless they were significant characters, they had no discernible features, resembling faceless figures.
At first, it felt like a vague sense that she couldn’t remember their faces, so she didn’t think much of it.
But after realizing this place was a novel, she noticed their faces anew.
Everyone except Count Lindsey, Countess Lindsey, and Summer Lindsey had blurry features. Sometimes, they had none at all.
Summer was rapidly going insane, feeling utterly isolated.
“This is crazy.”
Summer stared coldly at the teacup, then threw it against the wall.
The loud crashing sound echoed, but no one came in. Summer walked slowly through the scattered shards.
A small piece of glass pricked her skin, but she didn’t care.
The third reason this world was terrifying: everything reset the next day if it deviated from the set scenario.
Even this wound, which didn’t fit the profile of the beloved and affluent Summer Lindsey, would be gone by tomorrow.
“...”
Summer took a deep breath, looking out the window, then stopped. Just like this. She wished everything would stop like this.
But her body instinctively exhaled harshly.
In this perfectly orchestrated world, Summer had no answers for what she should do, what she could do, or what she wanted to do.
It was horrifying, terrifying, and infuriating.
But the helplessness was what ultimately made Summer feel wretched.
* * *
“Summer. Wake up. It’s already noon.”
Another day started with cruel familiarity.
“I’m already awake, what are you talking about?”
“Yes, my season, my dear daughter. Get ready and come down. We must have breakfast together.”
“Please, say something different!”
Summer had tried snapping at Countess Lindsey, who entered every morning, but she just recited her scripted lines like an actor and left the room.
Summer gingerly touched the spot where her wound had been.
“...”
Her skin was smooth without a trace of a scar. Even though it had hurt yesterday, there was no wound.
As Summer stared blankly at her smooth skin, a maid approached with a cheerful voice.
“Miss, the weather is lovely today. How about visiting the greenhouse?”
“I don’t feel like it. Leave me alone.”
“I’ll prepare it right away!”
Damn maid only spoke their lines. When Summer deviated from her role, the maids would recite their lines and gestures to the empty air.
Witnessing that was eerie. It felt similar to the grotesque, horrifying sensation of encountering something blindly devoted, like a cult.
Devoid of any resolve, Summer eventually let the maids take her to the greenhouse with a parasol.
She had grown to hate the pretty dresses, the maids following her, the beautiful garden, and the vast greenhouse since realizing they were part of a predetermined setup.
“What’s your name?”
Asking the maid’s name before entering the greenhouse was purely impulsive. She didn’t expect an answer.
Summer, not even looking at the maid, wondered idly. What were common maid names?
Mary or Poppy, maybe? Maids should have slightly tanned skin with freckles and round eyes, she thought.
“Ugh...”
As she scanned the greenhouse, a strange sound from behind made Summer turn. She paled and stumbled back.
“What is this...”
The maid following her was trembling and frozen like a malfunctioning puppet.
Summer was speechless at what she saw. Should she call it a miracle? But it was too horrific to be a miracle.
The maid’s face melted, the skin bubbling, and then eyes, nose, and mouth formed one by one.
“Miss, my name is Mary.”
Then the maid smiled brightly. Her cheerful voice remained unchanged.
“Mary.”
Summer muttered. Slightly tanned skin, cute freckles, round eyes. The maid’s face was exactly as Summer had imagined.
Why? Summer backed away from the maid with a confused look. Joy and terror intertwined.
“Mary.”
“Yes, Miss. My name is Mary.”
The joy of getting a response for the first time in this world clashed with the eerie situation, shaking Summer’s mind.
Eventually, unable to bear the nausea, she covered her mouth and ran out.
Mary watched her quietly, then vanished without a trace, like an actor retreating behind the curtain after finishing a role.
“Ugh! Ugh, sob...”
Having fled from the maid, Summer crouched in a corner, repeatedly retching.
Her body trembled, and her head felt cold.
The exact appearance and name she had imagined had become a real person. It was terrifying. She wanted to escape.
Damn possession, damn system.
“I want to go back...”
Summer sat on the grass and buried her face in her hands.
Tears soaked her palms. She felt lost. It was like being a doll in a doll shop that had gained self-awareness.
If the soul is human and the body is a doll, is one human or a doll?
“Please, let me go back, please... sob, sob... I want to go back...”
Summer cried, terrified, until the setting sun covered the whole world.
***
Now, Summer had nothing to lose.
“Summer. Wake up. The sun is already high.”
“Shut up, you paper doll.”
Summer spat out harshly. But Countess Lindsey merely looked at her with a loving expression and stroked her hair.
This was a world within a novel.
In other words, the woman before her, endlessly repeating the same broken lines, was not human but a fabrication.
There was no need or reason to consider the feelings of someone like that.
“Yes, my season, my beloved daughter. Get ready and come down. We must have breakfast together.”
Summer didn’t go to the dining room. Instead, she sat at the desk by the window to clear her mind.
“Bring me pen and paper.”
“...”
The maids continued cleaning, ignoring her request. Naturally, since they were only programmed to follow their daily routine.
Just then, one maid stood out from the rest.
It was Mary.
“The pen and paper are in the drawer, Miss.”
Keeping a wary eye on Mary, Summer rummaged through the drawer and found the pen and paper as Mary had said.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
After the conversation ended, Mary blended back in with the other maids to continue tidying the room. Summer watched her for a moment before picking up the pen.
It was time to acknowledge it. The reason this place felt both unfamiliar and strangely familiar.
The first and last romance novel she read on the day she passed her final exam. *I Will Become the Emperor.*
She had actually enjoyed reading it a lot, to the point where she wanted to meet the female protagonist.
“It’s only fun as a reader…”
Summer muttered coldly, scrunching her face.
*Protagonist Julian Dudley. Love her.
Male protagonist, Ian Lancaster. Handsome. Unclear.
The novel starts with the Imperial Debutante Ball.
The novel ends with their wedding.
Magnificent Julian unintentionally comforts the wounded male lead, who then becomes obsessed with Julian and pursues her, but doesn’t recognize her face for a long time.*
The pen dangled in the air.
“Happily ever after, blah blah blah. Does the middle part even matter?”
She remembered the novel vividly since it was the first and last romance novel she ever read. The problem was, she didn’t know what was important.
In romance novels, isn’t it enough to end with eternal love?
She didn’t read the novel for the prince on a white horse or the epic romance.
She was drawn to the strong and splendid female protagonist’s tale of overcoming hardships and achieving success.
“Am I an extra because I can’t meet Julian?”
Summer slumped onto the desk, muttering gloomily. While reading, she had fully immersed herself in the protagonist Julian.
Julian, who lost her parents at a very young age and was adopted by an aunt in the village, lived a spirited and ordinary life.
Until the new lord began his tyranny.
When the lord seized the farmland and even tried to take Julian, she risked her life to escape the village she considered her home.
That was the beginning of the original story and Julian’s hardships.
Yet Julian never lost her inner strength and positivity.
She even managed to heal Ian. How admirable she was.
“I was envious.”
Summer smiled faintly.
Following Julian’s story, she often shed tears of overwhelming emotion.
How could you stand firm against such harsh trials when even a single workbook in front of me feels overwhelming?
It was an impossible fantasy, but if she ever met Julian, she wanted to ask.
And she prayed.
For the protagonist’s happiness, success, and an undisturbed, peaceful life henceforth.
Romance was just a secondary element to that.
“The protagonist.”
Yes, the protagonist. Protagonists must be different in some way.
Maybe they held the key to returning to her original world.
Every story's cliché was that all significant events happened around the protagonist.
Unlike the extra Summer, the protagonists might have something special, and forging a connection with them could resolve something.
“Meeting Julian, attending parties.”
Satisfied with her plan, Summer smiled slightly.
With the social season just starting, various balls and parties were being held, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to attend some.
To increase her chances, she’d need to wait for the Imperial Ball, where both protagonists would appear, but by then, the novel’s events would have started, making the setting stricter than now.
“Once the story begins, I might not be able to approach them at all.”
The moment the original story began, the protagonists would be too busy dealing with events to notice a sudden extra.
Summer tapped the desk with her pen. She didn’t ponder for long.
She needed to meet the protagonists.
.jpeg)