Out of the blackness came a string of memories, like my life was flashing before my eyes. Except, it wasn’t my life. They were the memories of Lady Aurelia Golden, the villainess. A spoiled childhood, with doting but distant parents, and a horde of servants. Heralded at the age of six as a genius diva, and by the age of thirteen renowned as the voice of the empire. From there it was a cavalcade of parties, intense study, superficial friendships, gossip, and a pending engagement to the playboy crown prince. With each memory Aurelia grew colder and harsher as she become the pinnacle to which all others aspired. Unreachable, frigid, and alone. She was your archetypical ice queen villainess.
When I awoke, I was staring up at the silk canopy of a four poster bed. I was Lady Aurelia Golden. That was my reality now. The goddess hadn’t lied. I was in the world of Idol Princess!
And I mean, I was ACTUALLY in the world of FREAKING Idol Princess! It was a dream come true. Sure, the set up was unfair. I was the villainess, and I didn’t even have future knowledge like you were supposed to get in this sort of scenario. Fishes??? Flags??? Pfft, I hadn’t a sniff of a clue. In Idol Princess love interests (fishes, for you great unwashed) could be any gender, my day to day life would be like dancing through a flag minefield. But… I. Do. Not. Care. I’m in Idol Princess. I could barely suppress my desire to squeal for joy.
My irreverent train of thoughts was derailed by the abrupt ringing of a bell. I startled so hard; I swear I lost years off my life. A handbell fell from my hand, just missing bare toes, and landing on the plush rug with a muted thud, and a faint chime.
I was sure I had been laying down when I awoke, but now I was sitting up on the edge of the bed.
To my alarm, I could recall sitting up, removing the handbell from the ornate silver platter appointed to it, and giving it an imperious, sharp ring, like a proper young villainess. I recalled a sliver of detached irritation as I speculated on if the maid would be tardy again today.
But I had no recollection of consciously doing any of those things.
Was I a tag-along in this body? That would be so lame. Like mega-lame. Watching streamers levels of lame.
Ignoring the toppled handbell, I glared at my toes, urging them to wiggle. A command I was delighted to see carried out immediately. Boo yah, this big sis was no tag-along, we were going places!
Any further consideration was interrupted when the door to my chambers burst open to reveal a panting chambermaid, brow drenched in sweat and elegant black and white uniform in disarray. In Aurelia’s memories I could hear myself telling the maid ‘that she was to under no circumstances fail to knock before entering my chambers.’ And I was unsure which of I or Aurelia felt greater dissatisfaction at the disreputable state of the maid before me.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Hold up. Wait wait wait! Aurelia’s memories!? I know watched her life practically flash before my eyes but isn’t that a pretty big cheat! With Aurelia’s memories of everyone of import in the Storied Empire, and my killer instincts for Idol Princess weren’t we an unbeatable pairing? Surviving pfft Nuh uh, goddess, I was going to THRIVE. Which raised the question, was the goddess actually a tsundere, being all ‘oh I hate you’ while dropping big gifts in my lap? Cute!
“Yes mistress, I understand.” The maid replied before I was even aware of having spoken. The spookiest part was a memory existed of me scolding her for her tardiness and instructing her to prepare me for the day. But I know, I KNOW, I never said any of that.
Was this like a timed dialogue selection, which if I took too long thinking it proceeded with a default response? But like, with my whole freaking life? Urgh. Cute!? I take it all back. How could I ever have said she was cute? The goddess was a heinous bitch, a literal incarnation of all that was evil in the world.
As I contemplated the earthshaking implications of the goddesses’ malicious, sadistic cruelty. (If I ever paused to relax I might, die –like die die!) Aurelia’s typical morning routine unfolded around me. After retrieving the handbell from my feet with a bow, the maid busied herself on sculpting my hair into an elaborate, jewel encrusted updo with expert precision. Her lips pursed in silent concentration as she worked. Despite her own unkempt appearance, Aurelia’s memories, and the unfolding scene assured me her maid skills were legit. But seriously, why couldn’t I have a calm, collected put together maid, instead of this scruffy, sweaty chick?
I was so engrossed in my thoughts it took me a few moments to realize there was a beautiful aria playing in the background softly, as the maid, Toni – a name Aurelia’s memories supplied me with, brushed, tugged, plaited, and pinned. And an embarrassingly long amount of time after that to realize that the music’s source wasn’t a phonograph or an unseen singer; I was the one singing. Or well, Aurelia was. The moment I had that realization, the soaring fermata shattered, the pitch fluctuating wildly, dissolving into a cacophonously mess despite the striking beauty of my --Aurelia’s-- voice.
The Toni’s hands halted mid-plait. “Mistress, are you quite well?”
How could I possibly explain how the
“I’m afraid my throat’s fe-“ Was all I managed to get out of my bogus explanation before I was interrupted by Toni’s gasp.
“I’ll fetch the royal physician!” She exclaimed, while bolting from the room.
…
……
……….
The royal physician?
I suppose as the
…
Dad, that just made everything worse!