She wandered the same stalls every morning, clinging to the only routine was allowed.

By the end of the first month, it finally sank in    this wasn't some sick, twisted dream. It was real.

And more unsettling still, it wasn't even the story she remebered. The Seraphine of the novel had been eighteen, already infamous, already dancing far out of high society's good graces. But here, the whispers in the halls said she was sixteen. Two years too early.

The thought gnawed at her. In the book, there had been a throwaway line about a certain guest taking up residence in the Arlowe estate around this time   something the heroine would only discover later. Mina hadn't paid much attention then, but now the memory set her nerves on edge. It meant she simply wasn't inside the novel. She was trapped in the blank spaces before it began. No chapters to guide her, no map of what should or shouldn't happen.

Every decision from here was uncharted. Dangerous.

So, she did what she could.

After a week of thinking, scribbling in notebooks, crossing out plans, and rethinking again, she came to one clear decision:

If she couldn't escape this world, she'd play the role she was given.

she would become the villainess seraphine.

Not the murder-happy monster they believed she was-no. She couldn't bring herself to kill anyone.

Luckily, her younger self had done most of the groundwork already.

"I just need to bully a few people... maybe a light kidnapping," she reasoned.

It was the only option left.

Become the Duke? She'd already lost her claim as heir.

Live a life of luxury? That future would be ripped from her before she turned twenty    either married off or cast aside.

Become the new female lead? That wasn't even up debate. She hated all the male leads.

And with her reputation as a bloodthirsty murderer, redemption wasn't exactly on the table.

That left one path forward: 

Stay in character long enough to stay alive   and rewrite the ending when no one's looking.

It couldn't be that hard, right? She thought all she had to do was hit people, yell a lot, and scowl for effect. 

Mina never cared much for people anyway     if she had, she wouldn't have spent half her life working with animals instead.

So began the daily routine: beatings doled out like breakfast, treating everyone as replaceable as stable hay, tantrums flung with all the grace of an axe through glass.

With the plan in motion, Mina discovered a delightful perk     she could do whatever she wanted, so long as it came off "appropriately cruel." And she would, right up until the plot got around to killing her off.

Step one: riding.

She grabbed her boots and headed for the stables. Her first mount was a glossy black Friesian mare, led out by a groom who tacked her up with trembling hands. Instead of a stool, the man bent himself into position for her to step onto.

Mina sighed as if the world had failed her personally. "We can't even afford a proper mounting block? What has the Dukedom come to?"

"I-I'm sorry miss," the groom stammered, eyes down. "We weren't aware of your arrival. It won't happen again. Please... use me as you like. I"ll accept a-any punishment."

"You may go," she dismissed sharply, already swinging into the saddle.

The stables were wasted here. Every horse was Olympic-caliber in her world, yet here they were   rotting in boredom, pulled out only for war drills or lazy noble rides.

Luckily, Mina was bored too...

The days bled together in a strange, endless summer   probably some "book world" nonsense, but at least there was no snow. No one seemed to watch her ride, so she began venturing further. Longer rides, picnic meals tucked into saddlebags.

Beyond the deep oak forst, she found a hidden clearing   tree-shaded, a single proud spruce at its heart. She'd eat there, then vault fallen logs and weave through the undergrowth on her way home.

And then came the day she went too far.

Galloping her favourite thoroughbred stallion along the main fence line, hair whipping reins loose     no focus, no care.

That's when she made the biggest mistake of her life.

Hew saw her.

And just like that, boredom turned dangerous.