WTSP - 2

Today marked the fourth day since I had been possessed by Ophelia—specifically, the day of the empress’s coronation.  

Escaping the suffocating palace to breathe in the fresh outdoor air made me feel as though I could take flight. Of course, if Lena, Ophelia’s ever-loyal maid, were to find out about my little excursion, she’d probably faint dead away—or worse, scold me until I wished I had.  

A frail noblewoman with a delicate constitution, Ophelia was adored by her parents and older brothers from birth. She had never experienced hardship or conflict in her life.  

The fact that this powerless young woman had been chosen as the fourth empress was no coincidence—it was the result of political maneuvering among the nobility. The Meredith family, being a neutral house unaligned with any faction, lacked both power and influence. In essence, they saw Ophelia as nothing more than a puppet to place on the throne—a convenient tool for their schemes.  

I hadn’t planned this setting when I wrote the novel, yet here I was, living it firsthand. But adapting to this sickly beauty of an empress wasn’t my top priority right now. Returning to the real world was far more urgent, especially with the upcoming Summer Olympics just around the corner. Being possessed at a time like this? Talk about inconvenient.  

The dress I wore was stifling, adorned with glittering jewels that felt more like shackles than decorations. If only I’d given my protagonist more comfortable clothing when I was writing her scenes.  

And don’t even get me started on these cursed pointy shoes! After walking just a few dozen steps, my feet were already throbbing painfully.  

“Seriously, how do these fantasy heroines manage to walk around in these torture devices?”  

If Lena found out about this, it would be another reason for her to faint. Unable to bear the pain radiating from my toes, I finally kicked off the white shoes and collapsed onto the grass.  

It didn’t matter anymore if my dress got dirty—I simply couldn’t take another step in those excruciating heels. A flicker of irritation crossed my face as I tossed the offending footwear aside. My feet were swollen, and the blazing sun overhead only added to my misery.  

Just as I began to revel in the relief of freeing myself from those wretched shoes, a sharp thwack! pierced through the air.  

Startled, I glanced down at my reddened, blistered feet before snapping my head up.  

“What the hell! Oh no, I’m so sorry! I thought there was no one around…!”  

I could’ve sworn the area was deserted. My panicked voice trembled as guilt washed over me.  

The person who had unwittingly taken a ball to the shin stood silhouetted against the sun, their features obscured by the glare.  

“So, you’ve decided to abandon all decorum expected of an empress, have you?”  

The voice was icy cold, sending shivers down my spine.  

Instinctively, I looked up to meet the speaker’s gaze. The harsh sunlight blinded me momentarily, forcing me to squint.  

As my eyes adjusted, the man’s face came into focus.  

Sharp green eyes, a regal nose, tall stature—he was the epitome of perfection, as though crafted by divine hands themselves.  

In his piercing gaze, I saw my own reflection staring back at me.  

I immediately recognized him: Serdelius Carlot, the male lead of A Common Girl Becomes Empress.  

He was the last person I wanted to encounter after being possessed.  

My reasons for avoiding him were crystal clear. While I had created him, Serdelius was undeniably a terrifying character.  

At just eighteen years old, he ascended the throne following the death of his predecessor, wielding absolute power. Through minimal warfare, he expanded the empire’s territory to unprecedented levels—an achievement unmatched in imperial history.  

His swordsmanship knew no hesitation. Anyone deemed a threat to the empire was swiftly eliminated without remorse. He never looked back.  

Known as the “Black Wolf,” Serdelius lived up to his reputation as a ruthless ruler devoid of compassion.  

Yet, even this cold-blooded emperor harbored a soft spot—for his beloved empress, Brilline. To her alone, he showed warmth and tenderness. Even I, as the author, had to admit that his character leaned heavily into clichés.  

But what did that matter? The problem was that I hadn’t been reborn as Brilline.  

Serdelius’ frigid gaze bore into me, causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end.  

“U-Um… excuse me…”  

“It seems Your Highness has more lives than a cat. Are you enjoying flirting with death?”  

“No, n-no! That wasn’t my intention at all!”  

“Or perhaps you’re trying to catch my attention again with some pathetic scheme.”  

I had no idea how to respond. Meeting his gaze felt like freezing solid.  

To think I’d run into that Serdelius Carlot so soon. As sweat trickled down my neck under his penetrating green stare, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.  

“The women vying for your position are countless. They all use similar tactics to approach me.”  

Serdelius slowly bent his knees to lower himself to my eye level, gently gripping my chin.  

He wore an expression that seemed almost exasperated, as though he assumed I was playing games to win his favor.  

Forced to tilt my head upward, I nervously scanned his face. My heart pounded wildly, its rhythm echoing loudly in my chest.  

‘How can I still think he’s handsome in a situation like this? Am I insane?’  

This was supposed to be a life-or-death moment, yet up close, Serdelius was breathtakingly beautiful.  

Even the spring breeze swirling around us felt like something out of a romance manga, enhancing his ethereal charm.  

‘My heart’s racing. How could I reduce such stunning looks to clumsy prose?’  

Truthfully, I’d never fully imagined his appearance while writing. I relied solely on placeholder illustrations provided during serialization.  

Now I regretted not splurging on hiring a famous illustrator to bring him to life. I wanted to share my vision with the handful of readers I had left.  

Perhaps sensing my awestruck gaze, Serdelius’ expression shifted subtly.  

It was as though no one had ever reacted to him this way before.  

Realizing my mistake, I quickly averted my eyes to the ground.  

“You’ve stared long enough. Satisfied?”  

“Ah, well… No, I mean… I’m sorry.”  

“A pitiful lie.”  

Out of instinct, I slipped into formal speech. The realization that this man was capable of unspeakable cruelty suddenly hit me.  

Memories of his brutal past flooded my mind, making me rub my temples in frustration.  

Snap out of it. This man is a ferocious beast. Imagining my neck sliced open by his blade sent goosebumps rippling across my skin.  

“What were you doing out here? Did you forget my order to stay put in the empress’s quarters until summoned?”  

“Well, it’s just… I was feeling so suffocated. Spending three whole days cooped up inside…”  

“Ah, so you’ve lost your memory of the coronation day, Empress Ophelia.”  

Of course, I didn’t remember a thing. As much as I wanted to blurt that out, humans are rational creatures—or at least they’re supposed to be.  

If I spoke without thinking, crimson blood would surely stain his blade. This man had the capability to make it happen.  

‘But what am I supposed to do when I genuinely don’t remember?’  

Frustration bubbled within me, threatening to overwhelm. How had Ophelia ended up participating in the coronation? And why had she thrown a necklace at Serdelius? There was no way I could know.  

Come to think of it, I arrived in this world moments after throwing that trophy.  

Recalling the events leading up to my possession filled me with unease. Was that why Ophelia threw the necklace at him? A chilling memory surfaced.  

Sighing deeply, I muttered to myself without realizing it.  

“…Why didn’t he kill me?”  

“If that’s truly what you desire, I’ll oblige. Right now.”  

His voice carried the unmistakable threat of imminent violence, snapping my mouth shut once again.  

Still, I couldn’t deny my curiosity about why he hadn’t killed me.  

As the author, I knew his personality better than anyone. Everyone claimed the emperor had shown mercy, but it didn’t add up.  

Had my characters somehow developed individual consciousnesses behind my back?  

“Are members of the Meredith family always this insolent?”  

Serdelius released my chin with a dismissive flick of his fingers, his expression frosty. For a moment, my mind went blank, unable to formulate a response.  

“…”  

“There’s something about your audacity that reminds me of someone.”  

Though spoken softly, his words reached me clearly due to our proximity.  

For a fleeting moment, his eyes betrayed a depth of emotion I couldn’t quite place.  

A faint longing lingered in his gaze. Who could he be thinking of?  

But that was all. Shifting his focus, the emperor turned and picked up one of the shoes I’d discarded on the grass.  

“W-Wait! You can’t take that…”  

Before I could react to his sudden action, he turned his back and began walking away.  

Left behind with only one shoe, confusion washed over me.  

“…Come to think of it, this is the second time I’ve thrown something at the emperor. I must be crazy.”  

Though I didn’t remember it, people said I’d thrown a necklace at Serdelius days ago. The déjà vu made sense now.  

Still, the fact that I’d survived twice was proof that staying calm in dangerous situations really could save your life.  

As the tension eased, exhaustion settled over me.  

‘But seriously… how am I supposed to return to the empress’s quarters looking like this?’  

My dress was smeared with dirt, and I only had one shoe left. It was a total disaster.  

I supposed I’d have to walk barefoot. Just as I tried to stand, a wave of dizziness hit me, and my vision spun.  

Wait, how had this body managed to survive until now?  

As someone who had spent her entire life as a national fencing champion, this frail physique was incomprehensible.  

Why did I have to possess a sickly noblewoman? The dizziness pressed down on me relentlessly. Was I going to collapse again…?  

“Your Majesty.”  

Suddenly, I felt someone supporting my body.  

Thanks to their firm yet gentle grip, I managed to steady myself.  

Could it be that the emperor had returned?  

My vision was still hazy, making it hard to identify the person holding me. At least it didn’t seem to be Serdelius…  

“Your Majesty, are you alright? Lean on me.”  

Their tone and demeanor ruled out the possibility of it being the emperor.  

Supported by this mysterious man, I focused on catching my breath. Gradually, my blurred vision cleared.  

I didn’t know how long I’d live as Ophelia in this world, but one thing was certain: I couldn’t keep going like this.  

After a while, my breathing steadied, and my heartbeat slowed. Turning my head, I finally took in the stranger’s face.  

The first thing I noticed was his dark navy-blue hair, reminiscent of a winter night sky. Beneath his neatly parted bangs lay calm, pale eyes. As soon as I saw his face, I knew exactly who he was.  

Over the past three days, aside from Lena, he was the person I’d encountered most frequently.  

“…Sir Millein Rovair?”  

“I was worried. How could you venture out alone without a knight escort?”  

“Ah, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stand being cooped up in my room anymore.”  

Millein Rovair, deputy commander of the Imperial Knights and a knight originally from the Meredith family.  

Born as the illegitimate son of the Rovair count, he had been cast out of his noble lineage due to his commoner mother. With nowhere else to go, he was taken in by Baron Meredith, Ophelia’s father.  

Under the care of the Meredith family, Rovair rebuilt his life and eventually joined the Imperial Knights. Before enlisting, he served as Ophelia’s personal guard.  

Rovair’s story felt distant because it existed outside the plot of A Common Girl Becomes Empress.  

He was a character who existed beyond the boundaries of my original narrative.