I, Jia de Vellore, got regressed and reincarnated into a novel.
After dying once as Jia de Vellore, I remembered my first life—where I lived as a Korean student. An orphan in that life, I died in the most cliché way possible: saving a cat from Truck-kun.
Yeah, just like every other reincarnation story.
But this time, I was reborn as Jia de Vellore, a character in a tragedy-romance novel titled Tragedy of the Kingdom Aertheya.
In the novel, Aertheya is the strongest kingdom in the empire—powerful, cold, and on the edge of war.
The male lead is the Northern Duke—Kael Drakenvyr.
He has crimson eyes and jet-black hair, a sign of the dragon bloodline running through his veins. His dragon heritage grants him immense power, but awakening it was a torment. As the blood fully awakened in his adulthood, it stripped away most of his human emotions.
Despite that, he was deeply loved by his parents—their only child, born of both pride and pain. In hopes of easing the suffering caused by his inherited blood, Kael roamed the continent in disguise.
That's when he met Alisiah—an orphan girl training to become a Saintess.
She had soft pink hair and striking blue eyes, which turned gold when she awakened her divine powers.
When Kael collapsed from agony in a secluded valley, it was Alisiah who found him. Unknowingly, her holy powers were the only thing that could soothe and stabilize his dragon blood.
He offered Alisiah a contract marriage—promising not just the title and power of the Duchess, but also land, a personal knight squad, and the freedom to leave him after three years with full financial independence. If she ever wished to divorce him, she would walk away with wealth, status, and protection no one in the empire could question.
To Alisiah, an orphaned commoner constantly bullied by noble girls training to be Saintesses, it was a way out. She had suffered quietly, always overlooked, always stepped on. Even if she succeeded in becoming a Saintess, she would forever be owned by the temple—a puppet without a powerful family to back her.
So, she agreed.
Alisiah got engaged to Duke Kael.
But what she didn't know—what none of us knew—was that this decision would mark the beginning of the Tragedy of Aertheya.
The Crown Prince, heir to the empire and Kael's greatest rival, fell dangerously in love with Alisiah. He became obsessed.
Two titans of power, the Northern Duke and the Crown Prince, collided over one woman. And the empire paid the price.
Countless lives were ruined in the wake of their conflict.
I can't remember how the novel ended...
But now that I've regressed, I realize something I never saw before:
There was a hidden villain all along—someone in the shadows, pulling every string, shaping every tragedy.
I am a nameless extra in a book that never truly existed.
An invisible thread in someone else's story.
But in this world—this life—I was given something I never had before: a name, a family, a place to belong.
In my first life, I was just another orphan, forgotten by society, clinging to fiction for comfort.
But in this world, I remembered warmth. I remembered love.
I was born as the second daughter of Vellore County—a land so peaceful and alive it felt like a dream.
Rolling green hills, flower-filled meadows, villagers who smiled without fear, and festivals where laughter echoed through the air.
Vellore wasn't just a place. It was home.
My father, Casiac de Vellore, was a noble in title, but more a kind-hearted scholar who cared for his people.
My mother, Siala de Vellore, was soft-spoken, graceful, and had a garden she tended to with love that bloomed in every corner of the estate.
I had an older sister, Dia de Vellore, elegant and composed, the perfect daughter in the eyes of nobility.
And my younger brother, Siaca de Vellore—the light of our lives, mischievous and sweet.
I loved him dearly. We all did.
In a world of power games and bloodlines, Vellore was untouched.
Pure.
But maybe that's why it was the first to fall.
---
It was just another peaceful day in Vellore.
The skies were clear, the sun warm, and the air smelled of mother's garden—lavender and lemon balm. Siaca was chasing butterflies in the orchard. Dia was reading beneath the shade of the old willow tree. Father was in the study, humming a lullaby he once sang to us.
And then…
The empire's special knights arrived.
Clad in black armor bearing the royal insignia, they stormed our estate without warning.
We were charged with treason.
No trial. No evidence. No time to beg or flee.
I don't even know what happened.
In the blink of an eye, everything we had was torn apart.
Father was arrested.
Dia screamed as they dragged her away.
Siaca—my little brother—was too shocked to cry.
Only Mother survived.
My uncle—one I barely remembered—took her away while we were still shackled.
I don't know if he saved her… or betrayed her.
As for the rest of us—
We were sentenced to death.
And one by one…
We were guillotined.