I opened my eyes, immediately gagging at the unbearable stench invading my nostrils. Disgust swelled in my chest as my surroundings came into focus.
Rats.
Rats and their droppings were everywhere. The stench of urine and feces was so strong, it made my stomach churn.
Urghhkk!
I vomited again. My eyes darted around, panic clawing at my chest.
"W-What is this place? Where... where am I? I just got back from university… didn't I?" I muttered, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic storm.
Urghhkk!
Again, my body rejected the foulness, and I bent over, retching until nothing remained in my stomach.
Just then, the creaky wooden door swung open with a loud bang. An elderly woman with snow-white hair and a scowling face stormed in. She wore what looked like a maid's uniform from some old European kingdom. Her plump figure and wrinkled face only made her presence more terrifying.
"What are you gawking at?! Get up this instant!" she barked.
I flinched at the sheer force of her voice. My heart thumped violently in my chest. Scrambling to my feet, I stood up from the rotting wooden frame that passed for a bed and stumbled out of what could barely be called a room—it was more like a filthy rat cage.
Outside, the air was fresher, and I was greeted by the sight of a vast garden and a small animal pen. A young girl with light brown hair waved at me with a bright smile.
"Good morning, Rosela," she greeted warmly as she approached, wearing the same uniform as the elderly woman. Her freckled face suited her pretty, youthful appearance.
"Rosela?" I echoed, blinking in confusion. That name didn't belong to me.
"Did you forget your own name?" she asked, raising a brow.
My brow furrowed. What was she talking about? I didn't even know who she was.
I glanced down at my hands—and froze.
Pale skin. Slender fingers. These weren't my hands.
In a panic, I rushed to a nearby pond and looked into its surface. My breath caught in my throat.
"A-Ah…!" I gasped.
Reflected in the water was a girl with crimson eyes and long, silky black hair. She was beautiful… and she was me.
No. This wasn't right.
Had I… reincarnated?
Was this… like one of those isekai stories I used to binge?
My mind reeled back to a memory—crossing the street on my way home from campus and the blinding light of a truck speeding toward me.
Truck-kun? You again?
But even if this was an isekai, I didn't recall reading a novel with a character named Rosela.
"Who's the king of this realm?" I asked suddenly, trying to gather more clues.
"King Zander," the girl replied.
"Prince?" I pressed.
"The first prince is Dietrich, and the second is Benjamin," she answered, giving me a puzzled look.
My eyes widened. I remembered now. Rainbow Behind the Cloud! That's the novel I just finished two days ago! Prince Dietrich was the protagonist—a cold, proud warrior prince destined to become the Grand Duke.
But wait… Rosela? That name never showed up in the story.
Was I just a background NPC? A disposable extra?
No. I won't accept this fate.
"Rosela! Riri!" the harsh voice of the older woman—Madam Greta—cut through the air like a whip.
"Yes, Madam Greta!" Riri snapped to attention. I was stunned—I hadn't even consciously known her name, yet it rolled off my tongue naturally.
Perhaps… this body knows more than I do.
"Do you think gossiping will finish your chores? Get to work!"
I bowed my head. "I-I'm sorry."
"Sorry won't scrub floors! Move!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
So… I'm Rosela now. And somehow, this body instinctively reacts to that name.
"Are you feeling better?" Riri asked, her brows knitted in concern. "You had a fever yesterday."
"I'm okay. Just a little headache… and some memory loss," I replied as casually as I could.
"Maybe from overwork," she said. "You've been pushing yourself lately."
I blinked. Overworked? This poor girl...
"Really? I don't remember that," I said with a weak laugh.
"You poor thing," Riri said softly. "You should rest. I'll handle things today."
"No, I'm fine. I want to help."
👑👑👑
Three Months Later
Rosela's life had become a grim routine. Day after day, the same chores, the same humiliation. She now knew she was nothing but a slave, bought by a noble to tend to his livestock and garden.
Her living quarters were a nightmare. As if she were nothing but a caged animal.
"Rose, get up," Riri whispered gently, shaking her shoulder.
"I'm sick of this life," Rosela muttered, her voice cracking with unshed tears. The stench of rat droppings no longer fazed her—she had grown used to it. In her old life, she had been poor… but not like this.
"I know. But this is our fate," Riri murmured. "Even death won't free us."
Rosela clenched her fists. No. She refused to accept this ending.
"I will change our fate. I swear I'll lift us out of this misery."
Riri blinked, then smiled. "Just don't forget that promise, alright?"
"I won't," Rosela said, flashing a determined grin. "I don't break promises."
They headed into the garden and began the day's work—trimming bushes, pulling weeds, sweeping fallen leaves. Complaining wasn't allowed. Doing so would cost them their meals.
Rosela bit her tongue daily.
"I heard the title of crown prince was given to Prince Benjamin, not Prince Dietrich," Riri whispered.
Rosela already knew that. Dietrich was the true hero—the one who'd fought in wars and won battles. Meanwhile, Benjamin sat in the palace, obsessed with a noblewoman of low rank.
"I don't care about royal drama. I just want to escape this hell," Rosela muttered.
She had read countless isekai stories. But this was the worst fate imaginable. She would've rather been an outcast noble with riches than a slave with nothing.
"Oh! I almost forgot," Riri said. "They're holding a festival in the capital to celebrate Prince Dietrich's victory!"
"How ironic," Rosela replied. "He wins wars and loses his birthright."
"Shh! If someone hears, they'll have your head!"
"Oops. Sorry."
"To cheer you up… want to sneak out and see the festival tonight?" Riri asked with a mischievous grin.
Rosela's eyes lit up. "That's actually… a great idea."
They hurried through their chores, waiting for nightfall.
When darkness fell, the girls slipped past the gates, hearts racing.
The capital was alive with color and celebration. Music played, lights sparkled, and laughter filled the streets.
And then—he appeared.
A procession entered the square.