Aria/Seraphina Voss
I spend the night researching everything I can find about Isabella Monroe in Seraphina's memories and the novel's plot. Sweet baker's daughter from a small village, discovers she has rare healing magic, catches the prince's attention when she saves a child's life during a market accident. Classic Cinderella story with a magical twist.
Except now she's arriving months early, which means someone else is pulling strings.
The System has been buzzing with warnings all night: [TIMELINE CORRUPTION DETECTED. MULTIPLE PLAYERS IDENTIFIED. CAUTION ADVISED.]
Multiple players. That's the part that keeps me awake. If I'm not the only one who's been transmigrated into this story, then this isn't just about avoiding death flags anymore. This is corporate warfare on an interdimensional scale.
I dress carefully for my audience with the king—deep blue silk that suggests both wealth and sobriety, minimal jewelry, hair styled in a way that looks mature rather than girlish. If King Frederick wants to intimidate me, he's going to be disappointed.
The palace corridors are buzzing with unusual activity. Servants hurrying back and forth, guards at attention, the kind of controlled chaos that happens when important people make unexpected visits. I catch fragments of conversation as I pass.
"—arrived before dawn—"
"—says she's here to serve the kingdom—"
"—never seen healing magic that strong—"
Isabella's already making an impression. Efficient.
The throne room doors open to reveal King Frederick looking more alert than he has in months, according to Seraphina's memories. Whatever illness is killing him, he's found the energy to deal with what he clearly sees as a crisis. Prince Damien stands beside the throne, his expression unreadable.
"Lady Seraphina," the king says without preamble. "Your performance last night was... unexpected."
"Your Majesty." I curtsy, then straighten to meet his gaze. "I hope I haven't caused undue concern."
"Concern?" Prince Damien steps forward. "You publicly refused a royal engagement and delivered what amounted to a political manifesto. 'Concern' might be an understatement."
I almost smile. He's direct when he's angry—I can work with that.
"I spoke honestly about what I believe would serve the kingdom best, Your Highness. Surely that's preferable to false compliance that serves no one."
"What you did," King Frederick says, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority, "was embarrass the crown in front of the entire court. That requires consequences."
Here it comes. Prison, exile, maybe even execution if he's feeling dramatic.
"However," he continues, and my heart rate settles slightly, "your father assures me that your... unique perspective might be valuable in other ways. Tell me about these economic reforms you mentioned."
This is a test. He wants to see if I'm a genuine asset or just a troublemaker with delusions of grandeur. Time to prove I'm worth more alive than dead.
I launch into my pitch—coordinated trade agreements, infrastructure development, standardized currency, increased tax revenue through economic growth rather than just higher rates. I keep it concise, focused on benefits to the crown rather than abstract ideals about prosperity.
The king listens without interruption, occasionally exchanging glances with his son. When I finish, the silence stretches long enough to make me wonder if I've overplayed my hand.
"Interesting," King Frederick finally says. "And how do you propose to implement these reforms without triggering a revolt from the established guilds?"
Before I can answer, the throne room doors open again. A young woman enters, flanked by two guards, and I know immediately who she is even though she's months ahead of schedule.
Isabella Monroe looks exactly like her description in the novel—golden hair, blue eyes, the kind of natural beauty that doesn't need enhancement. But there's something different about her posture, the way she moves. This isn't the timid village girl from the story. This is someone who knows her own power.
"Your Majesty," she says, her voice clear and confident as she approaches the throne. "I've come to offer my services to the kingdom."
The king leans forward with interest. "Miss Monroe, I presume? We received word of your arrival this morning. Your reputation precedes you."
"I hope to prove worthy of it, Your Majesty." Isabella's gaze flicks to Prince Damien, then to me. When our eyes meet, I see something that definitely wasn't in the original character description: calculation.
This isn't the innocent heroine from the novel. This is someone playing a game.
"Perhaps," the king says, "Lady Seraphina and Miss Monroe should meet properly. After all, you'll both be residing at court for the foreseeable future."
Isabella turns to me with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Lady Seraphina. I've heard so much about you. Your family's reputation for... strategic thinking is legendary."
"Miss Monroe. Welcome to the capital. I trust your journey wasn't too difficult?" I keep my tone polite, neutral, but we're both measuring each other like boxers in a ring.
"Not at all. I find that when you know your destination, the path becomes remarkably clear."
The System screen pulses frantically: [WARNING: ISABELLA MONROE PLAYER STATUS CONFIRMED. HIGH THREAT LEVEL. RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE COUNTERMEASURES.]
Player status. So she's like me—someone from another world, playing with insider knowledge of the story. But unlike me, she's apparently decided to stick to the original heroine role, just with better timing and more aggressive tactics.
Prince Damien is watching our exchange with obvious interest. "Miss Monroe, perhaps you'd like to demonstrate these healing abilities we've heard so much about? I'm sure we can find someone in need of assistance."
"I'd be honored, Your Highness." Isabella's smile brightens, becoming more genuinely warm as she focuses on him. "Though I should mention, my abilities work best when I have a personal connection to the patient. Emotional investment tends to amplify magical resonance."
Clever. She's positioning herself as someone who needs to get close to people to help them, which justifies building relationships with key players.
"How fascinating," I say. "I've read that healing magic often reflects the practitioner's inner nature. Pure intentions tend to produce the strongest results."
The implication is clear—I'm questioning whether her motives are as altruistic as she claims. Isabella's smile tightens slightly.
"I've found that results matter more than intentions, Lady Seraphina. After all, a person who dies while their healer maintains pure thoughts is still dead."
Touché. This is definitely not the gentle heroine from the novel.
King Frederick looks back and forth between us, and I can see the moment he realizes what's happening. Two intelligent, ambitious women sizing each other up in his throne room. He looks almost amused.
"Well," he says, "I believe court life is about to become significantly more interesting. Lady Seraphina, you'll have one month to present a detailed proposal for these economic reforms. Miss Monroe, you'll work with the royal physicians to establish protocols for your healing services."
He stands, signaling the end of the audience. "Dismissed."
As we walk out together, Isabella falls into step beside me.
"So," she says quietly, "what game are you playing, Seraphina?"
"The same one you are, Isabella. The question is—are we competitors or allies?"
Her laugh is soft, dangerous. "I suppose we'll find out."
The System screen flashes one final warning as we part ways: [ATTENTION: ALLY/ENEMY STATUS WITH ISABELLA MONROE WILL DETERMINE SURVIVAL PROBABILITY. CHOOSE CAREFULLY.]
But as I watch Isabella disappear down the corridor toward Prince Damien, who's waiting to escort her personally, I realize the choice might not be mine to make.