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Brilline Carlot.
The heroine who became the woman of Emperor Serdelius and was bestowed the Carlot name.
Originally born a commoner, she lost her father at a young age but overcame hardships with her bright and adventurous personality.
She feared no challenge, showing strength to the strong and kindness to the weak.
Captivated by Brilline’s quirky charm, Serdelius made her his empress.
In short, it was the classic Cinderella story: “No one has ever treated me like this before. You—become mine.”
Writing on a whim, I hadn’t given much thought to how a commoner could ascend to royalty. What did it matter? For that fleeting moment of creation, the author was an all-knowing, omnipotent being.
To be honest, just like with Serdelius, I hadn’t deeply considered Brilline’s appearance.
Brown hair, chestnut eyes, a plain yet pretty face—that would suffice, I thought.
Instead, I focused more on shaping her personality.
I imagined her as a kind and confident commoner beloved by most…
---
“How interesting, Fourth Empress. So your name is Ophelia?”
“Huh?”
That bewitching smile, her relaxed tone, and those piercing eyes—it was both familiar and completely opposite to the Brilline I had envisioned.
…Had Brilline ever used casual speech with others?
No matter how hard I racked my brain, she always spoke formally, even to the first empress, her greatest rival.
I had planned scenes where her polite yet sharp speech delivered satisfying comebacks.
She sounds just like the male lead now. This unexpected personality twist is certainly surprising.
Brilline despised the other empresses. Even though this wasn’t part of my original design, it made sense that she might act differently in front of them.
It was illogical reasoning, but at this point—having been transported into the body of an extra in my own novel—debating logic felt meaningless.
Isn’t this the perfect timing for her to throw coffee at me?
As I watched Brilline sip her tea with her soft, delicate voice, unease crept up my spine like crawling vines.
It felt like I was living through a scene from a wildly popular drama series. Staring at the teacup, wondering when it might come flying at me, only made me more anxious.
If it hit me, it would burn like hell. Should I not dodge it?
Unaware—or perhaps fully aware—of my tension, Brilline continued speaking calmly.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Uh… thank you, Your Majesty.”
Was she implying that I should gracefully step away from the emperor because I was too attractive? I trailed off awkwardly, keeping a wary eye on the teacup.
But instead of throwing coffee like a melodramatic drama heroine, Brilline quietly set her cup down. Her chestnut eyes sparkled with intrigue.
Riding this unpredictable rollercoaster left my mouth dry.
“I’m not talking about your face.”
“What? Then…?”
Suddenly, Brilline leaned forward and gently grasped my chin. Up close, she exuded an even stranger aura than before.
Our gazes locked in midair for what felt like several seconds. Then, pulling back, she shrugged nonchalantly.
“We’ll see each other often from now on. I’ve just decided that.”
With an enigmatic smile, she ended the tea session. No matter how I thought about it, this meeting was bizarre.
“Well then, I’ll take my leave, Your Majesty.”
“Wait. Lucy, bring me what we prepared.”
Brilline stopped me as I rose to bid farewell.
A young-looking maid handed her a jewelry box. As the lid opened, I couldn’t help but gasp.
“Wow, it’s beautiful.”
It was a pair of earrings adorned with sparkling purple gemstones. Though I didn’t have an eye for jewelry, there was no mistaking the expensive amethysts.
“I’ll give these to you. Come closer.”
“To me, Your Majesty?”
Startled, I approached her. Brilline delicately placed the earrings on my earlobes, murmuring softly.
“Wear them always. They suit you perfectly as an empress.”
“Ah, thank you… I’m not sure if I deserve such a gift.”
“There, all done. You may leave now.”
This behavior was unlike the Brilline from the original story.
…Could these earrings be cursed? Uneasy thoughts nagged at me as I fiddled with the ends of the earrings.
Even as I left the room, Brilline wore a peculiar expression.
---
None of this is going as I expected. Can I even call myself a writer anymore?
After leaving the empress’s quarters, I returned to my room and changed into something comfortable. Physical training was scheduled for later today.
Of course, only two people knew about my “little rebellion”: Lena, my maid, and Sir Rovair, who would train with me.
At first, I arrogantly believed I could handle physical conditioning without Rovair’s help.
After all, I had trained daily for twenty years and knew better than anyone how to build stamina.
But I quickly realized—within an hour—that dealing with Ophelia’s frail body was an entirely different matter.
What do I do with someone who has no basic strength or endurance?
Her body lacked even the fundamentals. Starting exercise without assistance was practically impossible.
After much deliberation, I had no choice but to ask for Rovair’s help.
As the deputy commander of the Imperial Knights, he must have trained various types of people before.
And above all, this had to remain a secret. It wouldn’t do for word to spread that the newly crowned empress was sneaking around the knights’ training grounds.
As I slipped on the riding boots Rovair had sent through Lena earlier that morning, I reflected on everything that had happened recently.
I’ve conversed with the protagonists I created and collapsed multiple times a day like clockwork.
Yet, amid all this, the thought of writing a new web novel based on my experiences once I returned to Korea crossed my mind. Perhaps I truly am a writer at heart.
“Please be careful, Your Majesty! If you change your mind, I’ll follow you…”
“Lena, don’t worry and wait here. Remember our promise?”
“If anyone asks, I’ll say Her Majesty is enjoying a leisurely bath!”
Lena repeated the line like a parrot, and I couldn’t help but pat her head affectionately.
Though we hadn’t known each other long, Lena was an adorable girl. I wished I had a younger sister like her.
Leaving behind a blushing Lena, I stepped out of the room once again.
Fortunately, the private training ground Rovair mentioned wasn’t far from the empress’s quarters.
Reserved for knights of a certain rank, the private training area was somewhat narrow but spacious enough for most exercises.
The fact that no one else is here is satisfying.
Surveying the training ground, I placed my hands confidently on my hips.
Finally, I could stretch my stiff body. Though I had started fencing under my father’s relentless urging, I possessed undeniable talent.
Excited to move, I snatched the wooden sword Rovair held.
“Alright, Sir Rovair! Let’s begin…”
Thud. A loud noise erupted as if an earthquake had struck. My body tilted forward, unable to bear the weight of the sword. Trembling, I collapsed.
Right. In my excitement, I’d forgotten. I wasn’t Seo Yeon-hee, national fencing champion—I was Ophelia Meredith.
---
“Eight… uh-oh… ten… done.”
“I’m worried you’re pushing yourself too hard on the first day, Your Majesty.”
“Too hard? All I did was lift a rock ten times, Sir Rovair.”
Ophelia clearly hadn’t lived as a fragile orchid in a greenhouse but rather as a rose in a vase. Even lifting a fist-sized rock felt exhausting.
Smiling to reassure the concerned Rovair, I placed the rock back on the ground. The road ahead seemed impossibly long.
“To reach normal levels of stamina, I’ll need to train at least once a day.”
“I don’t mind, but I worry about overexerting Your Majesty’s body.”
“Hmm? I thought I’d do this alone. Are you offering to help, Sir Rovair?”
“Of course. Wherever Your Majesty goes, it is my duty to follow.”
The depth of sincerity in Rovair’s gaze was palpable.
Rovair had always silently stood by Ophelia. His loyalty to the Meredith family, who took him in, went beyond mere gratitude—it was blind devotion.
Watching his dark blue hair shimmer in the sunlight, I murmured softly:
“Sir Rovair, you’re truly a good person.”
My words seemed to surprise him. He looked up, meeting my gaze.
After a brief pause, Rovair offered a faint smile—the first genuine smile I’d seen from him in the days we’d spent together.
So he could smile so beautifully. Blinking my long lashes, I faced his smile head-on.
“I’m not a good person. I’m simply someone for Your Majesty.”
Rovair was born the illegitimate son of a nobleman and treated no differently from a commoner. Eventually cast out of his family, he wandered the streets. What must his heart have endured?
Baron Meredith took him in when he was just seven. He must have suffered greatly.
I began to understand why Rovair was so loyal to Baron Meredith and Ophelia. He saw them as his second chance at life—a debt he could never repay.
A sudden curiosity arose, and I looked into Rovair’s eyes.
“How did you end up joining the Imperial Knights, Sir Rovair?”
Caught off guard by the question, he blinked before slowly responding.
“Baron Meredith showed me kindness, and I resolved to pledge my loyalty to the Meredith family. One day, he called me to him.”
“My father?”
“He said my talents were wasted staying within the barony. He encouraged me to seek a broader world. Without his foresight, I might never have taken up the sword.”
Rovair gazed at his calloused hands as he spoke.
Ah, so that was it. To me, Baron Meredith had been the doting father of Ophelia, the first person I met upon waking as her.
I had assumed he was merely an emotionally expressive nobleman, but it seemed he had discernment after all.
“Thanks to Baron Meredith, I was able to take the Imperial Knights’ entrance exam. By sheer luck, I rose to the position of deputy commander—but the higher-ups didn’t view me favorably.”
Rovair’s expression was resigned and indifferent.
Of course, the knights backed by powerful noble families wouldn’t welcome him warmly. Despite having a count as his father, his mother had been a commoner.
How much suffering must he have endured… How bittersweet.
According to Rovair, it wasn’t until after he joined the Imperial Knights that his biological father, Count Rovair, reached out.
Having abandoned him without a second glance, the count suddenly took interest upon learning his bloodline had become a knight.
“So… are you in contact with your father now?”
“He keeps sending people, but I’ve refused every time. Count Rovair is no longer family to me.”
Rovair shook his head slightly, recounting the past with a calm voice. Watching him, I felt an inexplicable pang in my heart.
“That’s all in the past. Shall we resume training?”
“Yes. I’ve rested enough. Let’s repeat a few more sets.”
Massaging my already sore shoulders, I rose alongside Rovair. Though our conversation had been brief, I felt closer to him, which lifted my spirits.
But my rising mood plummeted just as quickly.
Living through this strange situation, I glanced at the figures before me with skepticism.
What’s with these people?