NARRATOR
It was evening, and Rue got surrounded by her maids.
"Should I put this Obsidian one?" she asked, holding it up with a puzzled look.
"That would make her look like a bride. We should put something simpler. She is still a child."
"Nooo…! I like this. They look like bimberries."
"Then remove those chains and wear only this. It is not extravagance we seek, but the quiet grace of true nobility. Such adornment is for royal feasts and affairs of the court," the governess chipped in.
All the maids stood abreast when they heard her voice from the corridor.
Then she picked up Rue and ordered the servants to be on guard. It wasn't much of a concern, but why would maids be on guard, Rue thought.
As they walked through the corridor, Rue could see lines of light through the closed doors of the hall. She felt a pause when they reached the doors. There was clinking of glass, the smell of delicacies, and the lively chattering of people.
"It is your birth anniversary, my lady", said Governess Winter. "Distinguished guests await your presence. Remember, ma chérie, to greet each one with a bright and gracious smile."
They were standing in the cold corridor, which led to the banquet hall. All the guests had already arrived. The governess gave Rue a little tickle and walked forward, gesturing for the guards to open the door.
As soon as the door opened, the master of the ceremony announced, "Ruelle Delacroix, this day's étoile and the little flamme of our noble Dukedom". How beautiful the banquet hall looked, however Rue felt a bit uncomfortable. Steady gazes pierced her soul. It was as if they were swallowing her. Some appeared amused, some derogatory and some came for drama which was about to unfold.
All of a sudden, her heart lurched. All the colours around her broke their boundaries and blended with one another. She tried to breathe but her lungs refused to take in any of it.
HAEJUN
The day I first woke up in this place, they said I was about four years old. The servants whispered that I had fallen from a tree and struck my head. But the language they spoke… it felt strangely familiar. Nevermind. As long as I can understand them, I can survive here. I can shape this life into something better than whatever fate this had.
This body, this boy with deep blue hair. He's adorable, even handsome. Not quite as dazzling as I was when I was little, of course, but still charming enough.
Daeun keeps telling me my name is Caesar. But the servants? They call me Everard, as if that's who I've always been. There's no middle name, no hidden "Cesare," no trace of the name I remember.
And that first day, when I introduced myself as Caesar, they all froze. Every face turned toward me in shock.
Now I can't shake this uneasy feeling that this body doesn't belong to the Caesar I remember. Did I change my name? Did someone else change it for me? Did I wake up wearing the wrong identity entirely?
Ughhhh! This is confusing. I keep comparing myself to Caesar. If this body isn't Caesar's then who am I supposed to be?
JOONWOO
The first day I woke up in this world, I knew at once that something was terribly wrong. My hands were tiny. Offensively tiny. It felt like someone had shrunk me in the wash.
And honestly, I'm not even a fan of webtoons or web novels, but perhaps I should have listened to Iseul's endless recommendations. Maybe then I would've been mentally prepared for… whatever this is. Instead, I had a good session of panic, depression, and anxiety for about two days.
Eventually, after an emotional spiral, I discovered my new identity. Edward Lloyd O'Maglite. Yes, that is apparently my name now. And I have a brother. His name is Rayne, though I have no idea what the rest of his name is. What I do know is that he is terrifying (just to me). Not in the "will eat you alive" way, but in the "emotionless statue that might judge your existence with a blink" way.
Appearance-wise? Green hair. Green-aqua eyes. My hair is long—flowing, ridiculous, elegant, all at once. Apparently, everyone in this family has long hair, like it's a requirement. My brother's is a little shorter, but he still looks like he stepped straight out of some aristocratic portrait.
And speaking of aristocrats, we're part of one of the most powerful and socially influential noble families in the empire. (Got 'em all from Iseul, who happily dumped lore on me.)
The empire we live in is called Cerion. Cerion, the empire of the nations. Sounds majestic. Feels stressful.
Anyway, we're heading to a birthday party soon. I'm actually curious to see what celebrations look like in this era. I just wish I didn't have to go with the whole family, which includes Rayne. He hasn't threatened me or scowled or anything. He's simply… stern. Constantly.
So yes, fingers crossed!
NARRATOR
"Hah! Hah! Jesus Christ", Ruelle huffed. The guards had already surrounded her. They covered her with a white-bluish dome-like shield. White ripples continuously flowed over it. Her ears stopped ringing, and her breath became stable. She clenched onto governess Winter's collar, and the governess returned her with a tight hug.
All the guests had felt this sudden surge of who-knows-what. Most of them remained calm. There were a few who were a bit shaken, and help arrived immediately. When Ruelle looked to her side, she saw her father running towards her. Ruelle did not know if it was she or her father who was in danger. He broke through the shield and took her from the governess's arms.
"Forgive me, Rue. This father could not… Fret not, dear", he said, his voice obviously shaking. Duke Delacroix pulled her close, so close that her forehead rested against his, their skin touching side by side. She felt the pounding pulse, the heat of his fear, yet not a single hint of the expression he had.
Only the rush of blood. Only the desperation of a father who had lost a child.
When the chaos was controlled, the Duke walked up to Duke Hestings.
"I beg you—let us not bare our enmity before all present. You are a guest this day. Let this grievance remain sealed within our hearts, and only be spoken aloud when the two of us stand alone."
That Duke Hastings sneered.
"Well then, if you believe me to be a man of low virtue, one whose presence so cowardly endangers your child, I shall not argue. But tell me, my lord, have you truly lost even the little faith you held in me?"