“My lady, why aren’t you up? It is nearly time for breakfast!”

A middle aged woman with a white cap and apron had thrust open the door with such energy that Sara had felt her heart nearly leap out her throat. The woman strode around the room, ordering maids to begin cleaning.

The younger girls that followed her looked completely cowed, and Sara almost allowed herself to feel the same until she remembered she was supposedly a lady.

“Come along now, Lady Lily.” The older woman hustled Sara forward into a bathroom. She was further confused about the time and place of this supposed ‘world’ when she saw hot water pouring readily from copper pipes into a marble bath sunken into the floor.

She was less confused, and more pleasantly surprised, to find that the maids were there to massage her shoulders and wash her hair while she lounged in the steamy bath.

They allowed her to remain silent, thankfully. Sara was already feeling on edge after being addressed as ‘Lady Lily’ and had very little faith in her acting abilities.

The time in the bath brought forth thoughts of her own death. It was morbid but necessary. That strange goddess had mentioned that Sara’s soul had been nearby, which meant nothing to her. Sara hadn’t even really believed in souls before holding one in her hand.

She still didn’t quite believe it.

At worst? The goddess had abducted her from her walk home and plopped her into some sort of sick, twisted alternate reality.

She felt foolish for feeling actual sympathy for Liliana, who was likely a fictional character crafted by the goddess or even Sara’s own mind.

Maybe she was in a coma and this was her coping mechanism for brain death. If she had really died, and this was heaven, it was a sick joke.

After that philosophical pampering session, she allowed herself to be dressed in a fancy gown. It had some sort of bodice with a sewn-in corset and a mountain of petticoats under green silk trimmed with lace.

Sara was at a loss placing the era of fashion that informed the dress design. She was leaning towards something Victorian, or Edwardian, or some other British monarchical era. It wasn’t frivolous enough to be French nobility of any era, but it was too fancy for breakfast and for Sara. The jewels also bothered her. They must have cost a fortune and yet the maids who served her wore uniforms in near-tatters. It screamed of poor upper management.

“Hurry up, your family is waiting,” nagged the older maid.

“Okay, okay,” muttered Sara. The kitten heels were an unexpected challenge on the thick carpet runners in every hall.

“What nonsense are you muttering?” The woman’s suspicious gaze made Sara shiver and shake her head in denial of any nonsense. She wondered if she would be burnt at the stake if they were to find out she was not the original Liliana.

She was led to a dining room with only six seats, which seemed normal enough. She had been worried about navigating a huge banquet hall or being sat at opposite ends of a huge table from a stereotypically evil stepmother, or some other insane fairy tale.

The whole thing still felt mostly like a dream, after all. Sara took her seat after the maid pulled it out for her. She prayed that this was something ‘Lady Lily’ often had her maids do for her.

No one at the table raised an eyebrow, or indeed even a glance at her joining the meal. A middle aged couple and a young man who was clearly their son sat and ate their breakfast silently. Sara observed carefully before digging in herself - she knew nothing of table etiquette in her own modern world, let alone this new one. She managed a few bites of poached egg and salad before her supposed father stood and exited the room.

The rest of the family, Sara included, finished their meals at different times and left alone to attend to their day. Not a single word was spoken. That was more than a little strange, and Sara thought she was pretty familiar with difficult family dynamics. This went beyond difficult - it was near suffocating.

Despite the nagging of the older maid who followed Sara like a nanny, she shut herself in her room and said she felt unwell and wanted to rest. It wasn’t totally untrue - the sensation of not being inside her own body when she looked in the mirror was a bit nauseating.

Sara dove into bed and grabbed the diary. She skimmed as much as she could as fast as she could. There would be time for details later.

Who was Liliana Harrington? A very lonely little girl and an even lonelier young woman, now eighteen, who had kept a diary since she was young. Her oldest maid was literally called Nanny - Sara couldn’t find a single mention of any other name. Her father was Duke of Harrington, her mother the Duchess, and her brother Phillip the heir to it all.

Diary entries ranged from childish complaints to the depressed rambling of a teenager, but they did a decent job of introducing Sara to the main characters of Liliana’s life.

Sara now found herself in the enviable position of being engaged to the crown prince of the kingdom of Veridia while also being related to one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in that kingdom. Or rather, Liliana was in that position, and for some reason Sara was now playing the part.

She was just about to return to the dire times of the ‘future’ with a little more context when the nanny burst in again.

Why in the world an eighteen year old woman needs a nanny is beyond me, thought Sara as she was stuffed into a completely different dress and ushered into the hallway without a word from her maids.

This dress made her seem like she was attending a funeral, albeit a fancy one. The black silk fabric was shot through with silver pinstripes and trimmed with a delicate lace. The bodice was just as tight as the breakfast dress, but Sara was relieved by the single petticoat over a pair of bloomers. The neck was high with a lace overlay on the chest and the sleeves ended at the elbow, giving a modest appearance overall.

Sara felt it was very goth, if a bit too historically cumbersome for everyday wear.

Silence seemed to be the default in this household. Sara obliged, which meant she had no idea where she was going once she found herself inside packed into a fancy carriage.

It bounced along while Sara tried to piece together the diary entries she had skimmed so far. She had put a few things together when the footman announced the royal palace gate and someone asked to see her face to verify her identity before proceeding.

The crown prince must have summoned his fiancée for some reason. Sara hoped she wouldn’t have to talk too much - she had no idea how Liliana spoke, let alone how she treated the people in her life. This was a boss-level challenge right at the start, and despite the wild ride that Sara had been on so far, she still felt this wasn’t quite fair.

That goddess had a very funny idea of granting wishes.