The Perfect Plan for a Fairy-Tale Ending

Chapter 1

Prologue

“It hurts… Someone save me… Please…”

A frail whimper echoed in my throbbing head.

“Again? Cut it out, already. I’ve heard enough,” another voice said.

I hastily tried to take back my words. No… I didn’t mean to say that! It wasn’t me! But I had no control over my body.

The voices continued to reverberate in my mind.

“Just shut up.”

Stop it! Stop! I screamed to myself.

“It hurts… s-so much…”

My eyes shot open when I realized that the pleading voice belonged to a young girl.

“Seoyeon!” I shouted with a gasp. My beloved niece… My big sister’s daughter. I quickly reached out, but there was no one beside me. Neither my sister nor my niece was here.

I looked around in confusion, but my body was immediately assailed with piercing pain. I was laying in a massive bed, one I’d never seen before.

Strange… Just a second ago, I was riding in the car with my sister… I had suddenly heard her scream, and immense shock had seared through my body as the world turned upside down. We must have been in an accident.

Is this a hospital, then? This place, however, seemed unlike any I’d seen before. I hastily raised myself up from the bed—or at least tried to.

“Ack…!” Every movement was so painful that I couldn’t help but scream. Nausea overtook me, and I felt like my head would split in two. I gripped my temples as I fought back tears. It felt as if someone was pouring molten metal directly over my head.

A series of strange memories began flickering through my mind. I had just graduated from college and was busy looking for my first job. I saw myself holding my niece, my only sister’s daughter, whom I adored. I carried her around with me wherever I went.

But these places and unfamiliar people… But there were other memories that seemed to belong to someone else. I was a teenager draped in silk and diamonds, attending parties every night and drinking myself into a stupor. That version of myself hated my siblings and did whatever I could to avoid my family, especially in the hallways of our home.

But the women these memories belong to… are both me. My two selves clashed inside my weakened physical body, struggling, refusing to unite as if they were water and oil. Both refused to give up control of my body, and unable to take the strain, I felt myself starting to convulse.

“Lady Marcia!”

I suddenly heard a voice beside me. I managed to turn my head to see a uniformed maid.

All at once, the turbulent mix inside me calmed. The oil rose triumphantly to the top.

I realized that I had been reborn as Marcia Blick, seventeen years old. Mere moments ago, I was seated inside my sister’s car, reading a fairy-tale book to my niece when we got into an accident. At the same time, Marcia—my new self—had been sitting in a horse-drawn carriage. She had been making her way back to her family’s estate in the pouring rain when the carriage suddenly flipped over, much like my sister’s car. Without a doubt, the two accidents had occurred simultaneously.

I remembered the book I had been reading to my niece. With her adorable lisp, she would beg me over and over to read it out loud, to which I’d always comply. By now, I knew all the words of the story by heart. Somehow, I had taken over the body of one of the characters in that particular storybook.

To be specific… I’m the nasty older sister who mistreats the heroine. Her name hadn’t even been mentioned in the narrative, but I knew at once that I was her.

I need to make sure that I’m really inside the story. The quickest way to confirm this was to go down to the basement.

But how do I get there? I wondered. I rummaged through Marcia’s memories until I finally came across something useful. That’s right. I need the hidden key.

I eased myself upright. I hissed in pain as my whole body throbbed.

“M-my lady, you must stay in bed…” the maid said plaintively.

“Move.” My arm reached out and shoved her aside. The maid toppled over.

Did I seriously just… I stared at my arm in shock. It had moved unconsciously in response to Marcia’s will, but quickly returned to my control. It seemed that our souls had mingled, but not entirely merged into one. Still… How can I push someone who was just showing concern for me?

Just as I was about to apologize, Marcia’s voice rang out in my head. “What’s the matter? She’s just a maid.”

Her ill temper was already rubbing off on me, and I chose not to apologize.

The maid hastily picked herself up and stood with her hands neatly folded. She didn’t look at all traumatized, which made me wonder if this was a regular occurrence. She lowered her head, waiting for me to speak.

“Who said you could come in?” I snapped. “Get out.”

Inwardly, I railed at myself for speaking in such a disrespectful tone, but Marcia won out. The maid quickly scampered out of the room. I was alone once more, feeling utterly bewildered that I couldn’t control my own speech.

Legs shaking, I forced myself out of bed. I was sore as if beaten all over, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stagger one step after the next into the small room connected to my main chamber. I knew this was my personal study and reception room.

Though Marcia never read books, there was a tall bookshelf that more or less served as decoration. Just as I'd seen in my memories, I carefully pulled out the third book on the bottom shelf. I felt around the empty space until my hands grazed a metallic handle. I yanked it and, with a sudden click, a hidden compartment materialized.

I opened the compartment and pulled out a balled-up handkerchief. Nestled within were the two keys to the room in the basement.

They really are here… It had been a long time since Marcia had touched these keys, as she hadn’t gone down there in years.

Marcia was afraid of the basement. Despite being a young noble lady, her room was located in the furthest point of the top floor of the manor, a place where maids or household servants would have usually resided. She’d fought and screamed until they’d moved her quarters from the family’s floor to this remote spot. It was all because she needed to be as far away from the basement as possible.

In light of this, the stairs seemed endless as I now slowly made my way down. Usually, any stairs that led to the uppermost floors would have been plain and lacking any lighting or ornamentation, but these were covered in a grand carpet instead. It was likely laid down to make the path to my room fit my noble status.

With every step, the keys jangled inside my pocket, and my heart beat faster and faster. Marcia’s dread was growing.

“Is this truly necessary? There must be another way to see for yourself without going down there. I can’t stand that place…!” she screamed in my head, but I ignored her and continued my descent. I needed to see, with my own two eyes, whether I was truly in the story. The only way to find out was by going to the basement.

The first level of the basement floors served as a storage area, which was common in all grand estates. However, past the racks of dusty items, another set of stairs led further down. At those stairs, I was confronted with a pair of iron doors.

My heart beat frantically within my chest and I could feel cold sweat dripping down my spine. Marcia’s fear was palpable.

I tried to control my breathing as I took the keys out of my pocket and carefully inserted one in the keyhole. An unpleasant creaking sound echoed through the room as I turned the key and pushed the doors open.

One more door awaited me. In the short hallway leading to it, various types of rods and whips hung along the walls. Their leather handles were faded and worn with age, showing clear signs of use.

Shivering, I stepped toward the second door, which opened easily with the next key. It was dark inside. A foul, musty smell filled the room.

I held the lamp I’d brought in front of me and crossed the threshold. The flickering lamplight revealed a beautifully decorated bedroom, likely designed for a young noble lady. Though there haven’t been any renovations for ten years… While the furniture was elegant, it was old and warped.

I took another careful step forward, observing my surroundings. It was then that I felt another presence in the room. I nearly gasped as I held out the lamp in that direction of the presence.

In a corner of the room, a shivering, whimpering little girl was curled up on an old wooden chair. She cringed and squinted as soon as the light hit her, as if her eyes burned, but they widened as she saw who I was.

Wow… Despite the harrowing surroundings, I couldn’t help but feel awed. The little girl was an otherworldly beauty, with cascading locks of shimmering silver hair and dazzling green eyes that shone like lush summer foliage illuminated by sunbeams. Her features were perfectly doll-like on her small and dainty face, and her skin was as pale and smooth as fine porcelain. It was so pale that it was almost a sickly shade, as if she had never once stepped out into the sun.

Her beautiful face was full of fear and trepidation. Her shoulders and arms were painfully thin and covered with splotches of blood and deep bruises. Only her face remained unblemished.

This was Marcia’s younger sister, Larissa Blick—only thirteen years old and the heroine of this story.

I sighed to myself. I’m doomed. I was in the story, and I had only three years left to live.

As I looked at the girl, I gripped my head and heaved another sigh.