How could he betray her?
Isabel—no, October now—stared at the ceiling, memories flooding her like a tide that refused to recede. Her thoughts spiraled back to the days when everything felt simpler. Humble beginnings. Secret dreams mapped out over late-night talks, warm hands intertwined beneath starlit skies.
They met at a friend's gathering, thrown by mutual connections, a bit too loud, a bit too crowded—but fate was always noisy. He had pursued her relentlessly. Six long months. Flowers. Texts. Stolen glances. Encouragement from friends. She'd finally relented.
And now?
The biggest mistake of her life.
She scoffed, biting her lip bitterly. "I should've listened to God… stuck to my gods… anything would've saved me from this hell."
"Did he even cry for me?" she whispered aloud, the question cutting through her like broken glass. Her lips curled into a self-mocking smile.
Of course he didn't.
He probably found comfort in another woman's arms before her body was even cold.
She swallowed hard, nausea rising with the thought. What if someone I trusted knew? The idea that one of her friends may have known—may have kept it from her—shattered her all over again.
Stay positive, she reminded herself, forcing the words like a bandage over an open wound. I can't just fall apart. I can't.
But her strength buckled when she thought of her parents. Their faces flickered across her mind like ghosts. Strained as their relationship had been, she loved them. Deeply. Painfully.
They'd always been traditional, always trying to control her life. Every step. Every decision. Dictating who she could see, where she could go, what she could feel. They thought it was protection. But to her, it was a leash.
That leash was the reason she left. Studying abroad was her taste of freedom. Her breath of life. She'd chosen what she wore, who she spoke to, how she loved. And while she hated to admit it… her parents had been right about him. Her so-called fiancé.
Ex-fiancé, she corrected, bitterly.
That was the only thing they'd been right about.
A knock broke the silence like thunder in a quiet sky.
"My Lady October? Are you awake?" came a voice from behind the door.
October blinked, pulled from her spiraling thoughts. Right. This wasn't her body. This wasn't her life.
"Lady October, it's time to wake up."
That name again. My name.
She rubbed the last tears from her cheeks and crossed the room, opening the door.
A woman stood there, average height, dressed impeccably in the soft-toned, ornate uniform of the royal house. Honey-blonde hair pinned up neatly, green eyes sharp but respectful.
"Good morning, my lady," the maid said, bowing low.
"Good morning to you too, Gloria," October replied, surprised at how naturally the words came.
How did I know her name? she wondered, blinking. Why does my head feel like I'm cramming for finals?
"May I enter, my lady?" Gloria asked gently, sensing something off.
"Oh—of course. Excuse me." October stepped aside awkwardly, mentally scolding herself. God, how embarrassing. I don't even know where the bathroom is.
"I'll start your bath," Gloria said, gliding toward the inner chamber with the ease of habit.
October could only nod.
How do I even know her name? This is insane. Her head pounded as she pressed her palm to her forehead. The memories were too much—hers and October's—a swirling storm of grief, confusion, and loss.
Just then, she felt a light tap on her shoulder.
"My lady, everything is ready," Gloria said quietly, concern written in the tight set of her jaw.
"I'm fine, Gloria. Just… a mild headache," October replied softly, not quite believing her own words.
"I'll bring you something for the pain after your bath."
"Thank you."
"My lady, I've also laid out your clothes for the day," Gloria added. "Shall I help you undress?"
October blinked. "Oh, no. Thank you, but I can manage. Please attend to your other tasks."
Gloria bowed, quietly respecting her mistress's space, and slipped from the room.
As the door closed, October exhaled shakily. Her fingers trembled as she peeled away the nightgown and stepped into the steaming bath. The heat wrapped around her aching limbs, and she sank beneath the water, letting out a heavy sigh.
Okay. First things first…
What the actual f** is going on?*
She stared at the tiled wall, heart pounding. I'm getting memories from my past life and this one. I died. I remember how. And now I'm here. In her body. In this girl's sad, cursed, royally-messed-up life.
God, why can't this be a fever dream? She let out a weak laugh. Just let me wake up in a hospital with a sexy nurse hovering over me.
But no. This was real.
So, I've been magically teleported into the body of a depressed noble girl with abandonment issues and enemies for siblings. Wonderful. What next? A secret prophecy?
She stared up at the ornate ceiling, a single tear sliding down her cheek as she whispered to herself:
"Wait… is this the plot of a manhwa?"