Lynette's hand twitched. A throbbing pain spread across her head.
She heard voices around her, but the language was unfamiliar.
Lynette forced her eyes open, then squinted when sudden light hit them.
She sat up. Something cold ran down her face, carrying a rusty smell.
Lynette touched it. Her palm was red—blood. She stared blankly. Then something clicked in her mind, and the surrounding voices became clear.
"Isn't it a bit too much?"
"Why would it be too much? It serves her right. Stalking Lord Drevon like a leech."
"Right. She even made it difficult for the other girls to approach him."
What? Lynette thought, her mind clearing.
"Are you okay?"
She looked up. A short-haired girl with freckles stared at her. Her eyes showed both fear and a softness Lynette couldn't understand.
"Lady Zeren?" the girl asked.
Lynette tilted her head.
"Zeren? Is that my name?" she asked.
"Um..."
The girl looked flustered, but Lynette didn't care.
"And you."
"Ah, yes?!"
"Who are you?"
Silence fell. The people around her were wearing uniforms. Teenagers. Staring at her.
A school?
"Oh my gosh! Did she lose her memory because of the hit?" one voice whispered.
Lynette stood. That's when she noticed the shattered pot beside her. She frowned.
What did she do to warrant someone throwing a pot at her?
"Lady Zeren," the girl called again.
"What?"
"You still have blood on your head."
"Oh, this?"
Strangely, the pain was gone.
"What's your name?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your name."
"My name is Flora Vende," the girl replied, fumbling with her fingers.
"Is there an infirmary here?"
"There is."
"Can you bring me there? I don't feel any more pain, but I should at least clean this wound."
"Ah, yes!"
Zeren walked past the spectators and followed Flora.
Zeren felt the stares on her back, but her mind was busy sorting everything that was happening.
She should be used to it by now, but things like this always caught her off guard.
What kind of crazy place is this? They saw someone bleeding, yet only one helped. Was the owner of this body that unlikable?
At the infirmary, the nurse flinched at the sight of her.
"Can you clean my wound?" she asked, pointing to her injured head.
"Ah, yes!"
The nurse quickly gathered supplies, cleaned the wound, then left in a hurry. Only Flora stayed, fidgeting in the chair near the bed.
"You said your name is Flora?"
"Yes."
"How are you related to me?"
"We're classmates."
"Is that so?"
Zeren felt that Flora was scared of her, but at the same time, she also seemed worried—and that confused her.
"Did the previous entity make this girl's life miserable?"
"Why did those people act like that?" Zeren asked.
"Sorry?"
"They saw someone half-dead, yet only one helped. Why?"
"Ah..."
Zeren observed Flora's reaction, and her mind began to form ideas.
"She has a shitty personality, doesn't she?"
"Huh? Um..."
"So she does."
Zeren noticed Flora staring at her with a dumbfounded expression.
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Lady Zeren. The way you speak is a bit..."
"Oh?"
Zeren, being Lynette in her previous life, was not fond of sugarcoating things. Sometimes this way of speaking made her look bad to other people.
Flora bowed her head slightly.
"To be honest, I don't remember anything," Zeren said.
Flora looked up, startled.
"Lady Zeren, you really can't remember anything?"
I remember my previous life, she answered inwardly.
"No. So tell me everything about this person." Zeren pointed to herself. "Don't miss a detail."
Flora nodded and started telling her everything.
According to Flora, Zeren Caelthorne belonged to the house of Duke Helbert Caelthorne, one of the empire's four ducal families—the pillars of the empire.
But instead of pride, Zeren felt dumbfounded.
She was told she had stalked the heir of Draevonholt, another of the four ducal families, Lord Drevon. She confessed many times since her first year, always rejected. Worse, when Lady Metinna grew close to Drevon, Zeren made her life miserable—so much that her own family had to step in.
Zeren sighed and massaged her temple.
"Is there a way for you to contact my house?"
"Don't worry, Lady Zeren. I already sent a message. They should be he—"
Before Flora could finish her sentence, a light knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Flora said.
A middle-aged man entered and bowed.
"Oh?" Flora immediately went to him and explained the situation.
Zeren noticed the man's stare. It was emotionless. He listened to Flora's explanation, but Zeren felt he took it lightly, as if it was something trivial.
Not that she cared.
"My name is Leonard, my Lady. I'm the butler of the Caelthorne house. I came here to pick you up."
Zeren did not say anything. She stood and stopped before Flora.
"How about you?"
"I still need to attend the remaining classes."
Zeren nodded and followed the butler silently.
A carriage with an insignia was waiting for them at the school gate. Zeren did not say anything as she stepped in. Then the carriage started to move. She closed her eyes and only opened it after he heard the butler's voice.
"We're here, my lady."
She stepped out. Before her stood a large and luxurious mansion. The scent of flowers from the garden greeted her as she entered the house.
When she arrived, she observed her surroundings and noticed that the servants were avoiding her gaze. The house of Caelthorne was large and luxurious—as expected of one of the pillars of the empire.
"What would you like to do, my Lady?" Leonard asked.
"I need to rest. Send my food to my room and tell the servants not to disturb me."
"Yes, my Lady."
"I will inform the Duke of your situation."
"Thanks."
It was quick, but Zeren noticed Leonard flinch when he heard her word of thanks. She shrugged and entered her room.
She went to the wardrobe and took a nightgown before going to the bathroom.
"They're efficient," she muttered when she saw the bath was already prepared.
She spent her time bathing, then changed into the nightgown and sat at her dressing table.
Zeren remembered the reaction of the servants when she entered the mansion earlier. It only confirmed Flora's story: the former Zeren was a troublemaker, feared or ignored by the household staff.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror and shook her head. The face staring back was beautiful enough that, in her past life, talent scouts had handed her business cards.
Zeren had an oval face framed by long silver hair and cool gray eyes. Her nose was straight, well-proportioned. Her lips had a natural curve, making her neutral expression look like a faint smirk.
And yet this girl had stooped so low—reduced to a pitiful stalker.
According to Flora, Lord Drevon was one of the most handsome students in the academy. Many ladies adored him, and his background as the heir to a ducal house made him even more desirable.
But still, even though the body of this girl was around twenty, her past self had died at thirty. Stalking some teenage boy didn't sit well with her.
After a while, Zeren whispered:
"Come out."
An illusory figure identical to her appeared.
"You really enjoyed yourself making trouble for me, didn't you?"
The entity flinched.
"Is being a stalker fun to you?"
"But... I really like him!"
Zeren raised her brows.
"Okay? So you stalked him, blocked other ladies, bullied innocents, and left me to clean the mess? Is that it?"
The illusory Zeren trembled. "I'm sorry. This is the first time I had a body that met all my requirements, and—"
"You knew it was temporary. You shouldn't have gotten attached," she cut her off.
It felt like scolding a little sister. She raised her left hand and beckoned the entity to approach. The latter followed without suspicion, but before she could react, Zeren stretched her arm and grabbed the entity's cheek.
"Ahhh! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
She only stopped after minutes of stretching.
"Haah... I feel better now."
The entity bowed her head, silent.
"I'm not good at goodbyes," Zeren said. "But I guess this is it. Thank you for taking care of this body. I know you regret not dating that Drevon or whatever his name was, but I won't fulfill regrets that aren't mine. Got it?"
"Yes, I understand. Letting me borrow this body was enough. Thank you."
"Well... I still have to clean up your mess."
"Sorry..."
"That's enough. You may go." Zeren waved her hand lazily.
The entity bowed deeply.
"May this lifetime be your last."
If others heard it, they might mistake it for a curse. But Zeren knew it was sincere.
She watched the figure scatter into nothing, then slumped on her bed. She could have asked for its memories, but refused. They weren't hers. Cleaning the mess was enough.
She covered her eyes with her arm and smirked.
"Last, huh? I've wished for that more times than I can count. Maybe even in the lifetimes I've already forgotten."
"I'm really tired... yet I have to clean up someone else's mess again."
Then her consciousness drifted.