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"My Lady, it's time to wake up."
A soft female voice echoed, rousing the sleeping figure under the duvet.
"My Lady."
"Five more minutes," the sleeping person grunts, shifting her body onto her other side. A minute later, her eyes opened widely.
'Who just spoke to me? The thought echoed in her mind. I'm not at a friend's place for a sleepover nor did I get drunk last night. Of course, I drank a little too much out of excitement because my family is out for a week.'
"My Lady, you'll be late for breakfast." Another female voice spoke.
Now she was terrified. The bed was soft and it smelled like roses. My bed doesn't have the scent of roses, it has a–
Having adjusted, her eyes and now observed every corner of the room. Large windows with a pale table cloth pulled over the study table, books elegantly arranged by color and size. The room looked antique and tidier than hers ever did.
Her eyeballs raised and were met with high crafted ceilings. Lamps were located in each corner. She sat frozen, nothing moving but her eyeballs, when it clicked. This is not my room. 'Where am I?'
"My Lady."
There was the voice again and she didn't recognize it. Her body shifted again and finally sat up in unwillingness.
"Good morning, My Lady."
Two ladies in a simple yet elegant uniform stood at the side of her bed and bowed.
She stared. Did I end up in some rich tycoon's mansion? I don't recall any of my friends being this rich. It wasn't what they were wearing that said rich, but what was behind and around them.
"My Lady," one of the women, who was in her 50s, spoke in a little concerned voice. "You'll be late for an early meal. Everyone has arrived."
"Tell them they can start their morning meal without me," she spoke unconsciously. Her mind was still blank. She didn't know anyone here.
"My Lady, your presence is needed. The emperor wouldn't be pleased with your behaviour."
'Emperor who? What the?'
The maids exchanges worried glances. She said with a sigh, "Give me a minute." The two women left with relieved expressions on their faces.
"Where the hell am I?" She hurriedly jumped out of bed and dashed towards the window. Maybe she could have escaped through the window, if she weren't on the fourth story. She couldn't possibly have jumped or climbed down with a makeshift rope of clothes. This wasn't an action movie. No matter where she looked, nothing was familiar. The endless courtyard of the mansion stretched far and wide. All of this made her completely confused. Further out, all she could see were mountains and trees.
She kept pacing back and forth until her steps paused in front of the tall mirror. "Who?" Her eyes widen at the reflection. She walked forward, pinching her cheeks. It wasn't a dream.
A tall, slim, fair lady with smooth flawless skin; silky lemon blond hair that flows onto her shoulders, and light peach crystal eyes with plumb pink lips. This wasn't her.
"Who?" she uttered again. Her head throbbed as though somebody was hammering at her skull until she fell into unconsciousness.
.
.
A sleeping figure grunted under the sheet. It smelled like detergent. She smiled drowsily." It was just a dream." Her smile widened. She was on her bed, getting ready to leave it any moment now.
She sat up, stretched her arms, and froze mid yawn.
"Yawn–Eh! Huh?"
She wasn't in her room. All she saw were endless clouds in every corner.
"Heh."
What was going on with this weird dream? For a minute she was not herself nor in her room. When she laid eyes on familiar ebony hair, she knew she was herself again. However, she was no longer in her room. Only the bed was hers.
"Am I dead?" She spoke with a tilted head. "Or is this a dream within a dream?"
"Good morning, chosen human one," a voice came from behind the cloud. A figure who looked both feminine and masculine all at once appeared in a suit. "You are not dead."
Said person held a tray with tea and biscuits on it. He placed the tray on a table made of clouds which appeared with the snap of his fingers. "Please, have your breakfast, chosen human one."
The lady was still puzzled, unable to differentiate between reality and dream.
"Why doesn't this feel like a dream?" She pinches her arms and it stings. This wasn't a dream, but she was still pinching her arms.
"Because this is not a dream." The butler pulled the chair out for her and gestured for her to have a seat.
"I haven't brushed my teeth yet."
She responded, finally releasing her hand from pinching any further.
Some people don't like to have breakfast without a wash-up or a shower and she was one of them.
"My apologies." The butler smiled and snapped his fingers. In a second, the lady was free from bedhead, morning breath, and an unwashed face.
"Now, your breakfast." He gestured again, pulling out the chair.
'This person is so insistent on me having breakfast.'
Nevertheless, she finally got out of the bed and walked towards the chair to sit down for breakfast. Her feet felt a little ticklish under the soft floor. She was about to spread her thick lips until she thought 'wait, what am I doing?'
"Who are you? And where am I?"
The butler chuckled and poured her tea from the pot. "About time."
The lady didn't respond which made the butler continue.
"Alright, you have been chosen to take part in a world created by writers. And we are here to ful–"
"Excuse me, what?" She interrupted, hoping she didn't hear it wrong.
"As I said, you have been chosen to be one of the characters in a book created by humans."
"…."
She responded with a stare, a look which meant do you take me for a fool?
The Butler understood and smiled. "Well then, I hope this will make it clear."
Before she could blink, the butler's hand moved so swiftly that she almost missed it. Realization came over her. Her stomach stung. Slowly, she raised her hand to her stomach. She couldn't breathe, it hurt even more with the delicate puff.
"Y… You…"
She didn't need to look down when she could feel a thick, warm fluid flowing from beneath the hand that held her distressing belly. The butler grinned, holding a silver butter knife now coated with blood. His white gloves were stained red too.
Her body gave up and finally dropped to the floor, losing consciousness for the second time.
*Gasp!*
She woke up with beads of sweat all over her head. It was a nightmare, worse than any nightmare she had ever had. It felt too real.
"It wasn't a nightmare and you are awake, again." The butler's voice made it clear to her mind, which was in turmoil. She was alive. The pain and the blood that should be present on her clothes and the floor were no more. She should be grateful, but in what way? The butler was preparing the table as though nothing had happened.
She sprung out of the bed with a frantic look on her face.
"You." Her hand pointed at him. It was rude, but she didn't care.
"You wouldn't believe it if I told you in another way. Now you know it's real."
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