After several hours of unconsciousness, Zata finally began to sense her surroundings. The pain in her head had dulled, no longer the crushing ache she'd felt after waking from one of her drunken nights. Her body, too, felt oddly comfortable—perhaps the bed was softer than anything she was used to.
"Fainted…?" she murmured groggily. Slowly, she pushed herself up, sweeping her gaze across the vast chamber. This room was enormous—surely, in the real world, only a celebrity or royalty would live in such luxury. Though her family was well-off, Zata had never imagined owning a room so grand.
"No—Milady!"
A voice called urgently from the doorway. A young woman hurried inside, hastily setting a basin of warm water on the bedside table before rushing to Zata's side.
"Are you all right, Milady?"
"I… uh—"
I need to adjust the way I speak here, Zata reminded herself.
"…did I faint?"
"Yes, Milady! I was so worried. Luckily, Young Lord Gaffar happened to pass by. He carried you here himself; if the Duke had learned of this, he would've been furious."
Gaffar? That ugly brute? Zata thought wryly. If Inggit's stories were right, she was now in the world of Alenda, about to be sold off to some lustful, cruel king at the edge of the continent. But the truth was, Zata had no idea how the plot would unfold here. If only she could remember even fragments of Alenda's world…
Wait a minute.
Zata rose from the bed and approached the grand mirror dominating the wall. As her fingers brushed against her reflection, realization crashed over her.
This face… was her own.
"Inggit— I mean, Anggita!"
"Yes, Milady?" Anggita stepped closer, standing just behind her.
"Tell me… this face… is it truly mine?"
"Of course, Milady! You've always been this beautiful," Anggita replied without hesitation.
What is going on? This isn't how it was supposed to be. Could it be that I only resemble Alenda, and the real Alenda is still here? If so… I'm in danger. If the real Alenda shows up, they'll think I'm an imposter. They'll execute me!
"Anggita."
"Yes, Milady?"
"I command you—tell me everything you know about me."
"W-why, Milady…?"
"I was in an accident in the forest," Zata lied smoothly, her eyes fixed on her reflection. "…and I remember nothing. Will you help me?"
To her dismay, Anggita immediately dropped to her knees, weeping uncontrollably, begging for punishment for allowing the accident to happen.
Zata sighed inwardly. Well, that worked a little too well.
On closer inspection, she noticed something else—her face was too young to belong to someone transported to another world as herself. It seemed the timeline here had pulled her back into her fiveteen-year-old body, her skin still smooth and untouched by acne.
At least I'm back in my prime skin years, Zata mused dryly.
As Anggita recounted the details, Zata's understanding deepened, confirming much of what Inggit had told her back in the cinema.
She was now Alenda Laqueen Celsion, the youngest daughter of Duke Celsion, born to a commoner. The Duke, while disguised as a commoner during a regional inspection, had fallen for Reya, Alenda's mother. But duty had forced him into a political marriage with the eldest daughter of Count Andreas, producing twins, Gaffar and Galya, three years Alenda's senior.
Alenda's birth was a scandal, the product of an affair. Though Duke Celsion took her in after Reya's death in childbirth, her status as a child born out of wedlock left her despised and mistreated, especially by her stepmother. The household staff followed suit, treating her with indifference or cruelty.
The escape plan, which Anggita had been helping with, began when rumors spread that Alenda was to be married off to King Gavier Hephaestus of Disappear Kingdom—a notorious brute. Terrified, Alenda had chosen to flee rather than submit to such a fate.
"Ah, my head… Okay. I get it now," Zata muttered, massaging her temples as the flood of information overwhelmed her.
"Milady, you must stay strong! I know you can get through this," Anggita encouraged tearfully.
Zata placed her hands on Anggita's shoulders. In this world, the only one she could trust was this girl.
"Thank you… for everything you've done for me. I promise, I'll protect you. If that marriage is finalized, I'll take you with me. This place isn't safe."
"W-what do you mean, Milady…?"
"I need to act," Zata whispered, determination sparking in her eyes.
At least, I need to stay alive. This is my body now, Zata thought grimly.
Anggita's hands shot out, gripping her lady's sleeves. "Please, Milady! You don't have to do anything dangerous. I can't even bear to think what the king might do to you… you're still just a child!"
Well, I'm only a child on the outside. Inside, I'm a twenty-two-year-old woman, Zata thought wryly.
"Relax. I'll be fine. Once I get a handle on the situation—"
BANG!
"I come bearing word for Lady Alenda! The Duke commands your presence in the main hall," barked a voice from the door.
Zata's brow furrowed. "Who's that?"
"That's Master Sevon, the head steward," Anggita murmured.
"No manners whatsoever," Zata muttered coldly, causing Sevon's eyes to widen in shock.
"P-pardon, Milady? Did you mean me?"
Zata folded her arms and approached him slowly. "Who else?"
"M-my apologies, Milady… but what have I done wrong?"
"Who is your master?" Zata asked sharply.
"Er… pardon?"
"Must I repeat myself?"
"Duke Celsion, Milady!"
"And who am I?"
"…Lady Alenda Laqueen Celsion."
"Then who's more important here—you or me?"
Sevon swallowed hard. Objectively, he had served the family faithfully for years. But rank was rank, and the Duke's blood ran in Alenda's veins.
"Of course… you, Milady."
SLAP!
The grown man, thirty-eight years old, was slapped across the face by a girl barely in her teens. Unthinkable—and yet, entirely within her right as his mistress.
"A-Ah… Milady?" Anggita stammered, eyes wide in disbelief.
Zata shook out her hand. "Reflect on your mistake. Barging into my room without knocking is unacceptable. I'm the Duke's daughter. Entering without permission borders on harassment. Shall I tell Father?"
"I-I… please, Milady, forgive me!" Sevon cried, falling to his knees. He realized then that this girl had changed—and if he valued his life, he would not test her further.
Zata crouched, lifting his chin with a single finger. "Truly? You'd die for me?"
"I—w-well…"
Liar.
"I'm joking. Now leave."
"B-but the Duke—"
"I'll come after I bathe. Must I say it again?"
Without another word, Sevon scrambled from the room, bowing frantically.
Zata's eyes followed him coldly.
I'm not Alenda. And I have no intention of suffering in her place. My only goal is survival. But if they want to pick a fight with me… well, I'm ready.
"Milady… Alenda?" Anggita whispered hesitantly.
Zata smirked, her lips curling into a sly grin.
"Yes, from now on, call me Alenda. I will be her."