...***Description...

Dylan de Beaumon, the adopted daughter of a Duke, recalls the memories of her past-life after hitting her head. Upon realizing she was a villainess character in a novel, she decides to use her intellectual giftedness to get a good career and run away. Dylan, who is haunted by her mother's death and the secret behind her birth, navigates life at Faerchester Academy relying on her wits and manipulation to escape her own downfall. Much to her dismay, the main characters in the novel just won't leave her alone***.

[Four years ago...]

The girl with an appearance as gentle as a flower stood idle on the top of the hill. Her radiant golden locks, resembling fields of wheat, fluttered gently in the soft afternoon breeze. She was a child with nowhere to go.

"Thank you," she told the man who was shovelling dirt into a hole. "I couldn't have done it by myself."

The man's face was stained with beads of sweat and an expression of fatigue, but he smiled at her gently when he spoke: "You're welcome, Dylan. Will you be okay?"

The girl nodded, her brown eyes resembling jars of honey in the sun. "Yes, don't worry."

'Because if my suppositions are right, he'll come get me soon.'

"Can I finish the rest?" she asked him, holding her small hand out.

The man frowned, hesitantly handing her the shovel. That day, the afternoon breeze blew like a sorrowful song as the young girl finished burying her own mother.

"I'm sorry," the man apologized, his forehead wrinkling with worry. "I told the townspeople, but nobody showed up."

He removed his tattered hat with a shaky hand, unable to meet the child's eyes. The girl, whose curly locks seemed to glow in the sunlight, smiled softly. It was smile with an expression of deep sadness.

The girl responded with soft words, her little fingers wrapping around the shovel's handle as she spoke: "I understand, please don't apologize. Giving me a place to bury my mother and helping me is more than I deserve."

Dylan's smile wavered as she thought of the woman who raised her. Her mother's smile was warm and her heart was kind. They didn't have a lot of money and there were times where Dylan had to go to bed without dinner, but her childhood was joyful and filled with love.

"I'd like some time alone," she told the man. "Please, mister."

The man nodded, leaving the child alone at her mother's grave. Dylan glanced up at the blue sky, wondering if her mother was watching her from up there. She watched the clouds with a blank expression, ignoring the subtle footsteps approaching her from behind.

The man nodded, leaving the child alone at her mother's grave. Dylan glanced up at the blue sky, wondering if her mother was watching her from up there. She watched the clouds with a blank expression, ignoring the subtle footsteps approaching her from behind.

Just as she expected, the Duke of Beaumon was the only other person to show up at her mother's funeral. The tall man with broad shoulders was dressed in an expensive all-black suit, his matching top hat shading his sullen face from the sun.

"Hello," he said in a gentle tone, watching the child stare at the sky with empty eyes. "My name is Morris. Can I know your name?"

"Dylan," she replied without looking away from the clouds. "Dylan Lembarg."

The man smiled softly, removing his hat with a gloved hand. "Dylan, do you have anywhere to go?"

Dylan shook her head, her golden hair fluttering with the motion.

"Would you like to come with me, Dylan?"

......episode 1 end~......

Faerchester Academy—the oldest institution of higher learning in the country and the nation's most prestigious school. With world-renowned faculty, Faerchester aims to educate and shape the heir apparents of nobility. If you were a descendant of a powerful aristocratic family, your enrolment at Faerchester would have already been decided on before your birth.

The school uses marks from large-scale examinations to hierarchically rank its students, but status was just as important as one's level of performance during these exams. As it went in this world, there wasn't anything you couldn't get if you were a noble.

If you were a noble with money and power, then you were automatically granted a Black Coat. Although receiving a Black Coat is considered an impressive accomplishment, for nobles, it was something you could get with just your name.

Contrastively, a Grey Coat was known as the lowest level of entry one could be granted. For commoners, being granted a Grey Coat was a favourable situation, since Faerchester is rigged to favour nobles. Even if you were the smartest of the smartest, if you didn't have a noble status, a Grey Coat was the most you would get.

+

A Red Coat was only given to nobles who scored at or above the 98th percentile on the examinations—something that was nearly impossible. Students who graduated with a Red Coat lived on to be the smartest people in history.

'Although, seeing as how Faerchester rarely distributes Red Coats, I don't think I'll make it that far.'

Dylan let out a dejected sigh, flipping the rundown pages of an arithmetics textbook. She glanced out the library window at the evening sky. The sun was setting, staining the horizon with breathtaking hues of orange and red.

"I should take a walk in the garden before I return to my room," she muttered to herself, admiring the scenery from where she sat inside.

For the past two weeks, the girl spent every passing moment inside the library studying. She buried herself beneath soaring piles of rundown books, absorbing the information like an empty sponge to water.

She allowed her eyes to melt into the beautiful display beyond the window, ignoring the way the maids whispered behind her back.

"Why is she even studying? She's a noble, so she'll automatically be granted a Black Coat."

"Even the heir apparent didn't study to this extent."

"Furthermore, young miss is a lady! Won't she be taking the exam for women?"

"Maybe she doesn't know that because she was a commoner. Her status is different now, but maybe the young miss doesn't want to take any risks!"

Dylan clicked her tongue, refusing to address the way they gossiped about her. For an adopted child with no blood relation to the Duke, the maids and servants treated her pretty well. They gossiped behind her back, but remained professional in front of her.

'I can deal with this much. I went to high-school once, so gossip doesn't hurt me.'+

Most female students at the academy would spend their time learning how to dance and ride. Noblewomen would be enrolled in courses that taught them the required skills for marriage, shaping them to become most favourable towards these marriage conditions.

Dylan had no intention of doing the same. In fact, she specifically applied to take the exams on arithmetics and natural sciences. 

Her reasoning was simple: if she stayed at the Duke's mansion, then she would die. In order to run away and stand on her own two feet, Dylan needed an education that would help her get a decent paying job. 

'Of course, none of this would've been possible if I hadn't remembered that day.'

Dylan remembered that day vividly. The rain fell in thick droplets against the ground and the sky was lined with heavy grey clouds. She remembered shivering, hugging the thin dress she had tighter around her as if it would offer some protection against the scary weather.

It was when her mother first fell ill and developed a harsh fever. Dylan was only ten at the time—a small child who couldn't even walk through the streets on her own. She couldn't wake her mother and rushed out during the rainstorm in bare feet to find help.

The floor was muddy and slippery, making it difficult to walk even a short distance. She lost her footing and plunged head first into the rain-soaked road. It was then when it all happened.

The memories, emotions and even resentments of another person flooded through her mind all at once. The world from the memories was far more advanced both technologically and socially than the one she currently lived in. It was also then when she realized her fate was sealed and her mother was going to die.

Dylan was the antagonist in a novel she had read in her past-life called "Faerchester's Flowers". As the adopted daughter of the Duke, Dylan used his money to indulge her extravagant tastes. She also used his influence to get whoever and whatever she wanted. 

When she entered the academy, Dylan followed the heroine around and harassed her out of jealousy. She was eventually expelled and sent to the Dukedom's borders to repent. 

When Dylan returned to the capital from her punishment, she ended up being killed by her very own brother. Axil de Beaumon, the heir apparent of the Duke, was madly in love with the heroine. Since he hated Dylan's origins and existence from the beginning of the novel, he didn't hesitate to remove her for pestering the woman he loved. 

"Milady," one of the maids called, interrupting Dylan's train of thought. "Perhaps you should eat. It's getting late and you skipped lunch again."

"Ah," Dylan let out an exasperated sigh, closing the textbook she had been staring at in a daze. "I did?"

The maid nodded. "Milady shouldn't skip meals," she said, "since she is already too skinny."

Dylan frowned, glancing at her bony wrists. Even though it's been four years, she still had a difficult time stomaching extravagant dishes. As someone who grew up with nothing, she was used to going several days without a meal. 

"Alright," she said after a brief moment of silence. "I'll eat something in my room."

The maid's expression brightened instantly. "Of course," she said, "I'll have the chef prepare your favourite soup and salad."

Surely she knew about Dylan's condition. The death of Dylan's mother left her with a shadow of guilt that darkened her eyes and expressions. The girl, who had starved alongside her mother for years, felt too guilty to eat proper food. It was a sort of psychological trauma that affected her eating habits. 

"Thank you," Dylan said with a gentle smile. "You always take good care of me."

A faint blush spread across the maid's cheeks as she scurried off to inform the kitchen of the order. 

Dylan was quite pretty, especially for a sixteen-year-old. Her smile was like a fading flower—the kind of smile that indicated a sadness or nostalgic feeling. It was a wistful expression that made people catch their breaths when they saw it. Whenever she smiled, it looked as if she was longing for something or someone. 

Nobody, with the exception of the girl herself, knew why the Duke adopted Dylan. Rumours about her spread like wildfire throughout society, further deepening with the heat of time. Since Dylan chose to not appear in society, her existence remained a mystery. People assumed she was his illegitimate daughter, but their guesses were far from the truth.

Dylan was the love child of her mother and Marquis Ruenz, a respectable man who passed away from a terrible disease. Having inherited his warm brown eyes and golden hair, Dylan was a spitting image of her father. The Duke, who was very close with the Marquis, fulfilled his friend's dying wish—to find his child that he had abandoned. 

One of Dylan's childhood friends had once asked her, "Why are you so afraid of loving other people?"

For Dylan, the answer was simple. Everyone had a monster in their life—someone who ruined the idea of love, forever. This person was her father. Marquis Ruenz was the cause of her trauma and problems. He was the one who dragged her to the hell she currently lived in, and continued to haunt her even after his death. 

Episode 2 end~

The Duke stared into his daughter's brown irises. When he glanced into her warm eyes, he felt as if a part of him was springing back to life. From her golden curls to her quiet personality, Dylan was a mirror image of the Marquis—his best friend.

He gently patted her head, feeling conflicted over her existence. He knew he harboured unresolved grief. He was someone who couldn't accept the death of his best friend and carried over his expectations, fears, and guilt to Dylan.

Impersonating. Acting. Imitating. He could never ask her to do such things. Especially since he knew how much Dylan resented her father. He knew how wrong it was to expect Dylan to assume the identity of the deceased. 

Despite this, he wasn't sure if her personality was a result of his desire for her to act like the Marquis, or Dylan's actual inner-workings. The thought left him with a bitter feeling.

"Father?" she asked him.

The Duke smiled bitterly, removing his hand from her head. "Are you all set to go?" he asked her.

Dylan nodded, raising the registration papers in her hands so he could see. "I have everything here," she explained, "and I studied very hard."

"Good," he said, watching her with affectionate eyes. "Your brother will be waiting for you at the gate."

The girl flinched slightly at the mention of her brother, but quickly covered it with a wistful smile. "Yes, thank you."

"You studied a lot, so I know you'll do well."

"I won't disappoint you," she replied, leaning into his chest for a hug. "Father has done so much for me, so I promise to represent you well."

'Because if I don't, your son will take away my right to live.'3

He wrapped his arms around the girl, thinking about her words carefully. 

Dylan was a quiet child. She wasn't one to easily share her feelings, thoughts or emotions with others. She lead an austerely simple life, abstaining from material satisfaction and never asking for money. She was predictable and calm—an easy child to handle and raise. 

The Duke wondered if this was the mask his daughter wore to be perceived by others as opposed to her true self. Dylan, who never complained and always did what was asked of her, was well-disciplined and feeble. Perhaps she acted like this because she didn't want to disappoint him.

"Father?" she asked, staring at him with large brown eyes. "Are you okay? You seem to be distracted."

"I'm alright," he assured her. "Would you like a gift in celebration of your exams?"

Dylan vigorously shook her head, stepping away from his embrace. "Goodness no," she said, frowning. "Father has done so much for me. How could I ask for more? Besides, we don't know of the results yet, so it's much too early to celebrate."

The Duke frowned, unsure of how to tell her it was okay to want more. He couldn't help but feel guilty. What if she acted like this because she wasn't sure if she would be accepted for who she truly was?

He remembered what one of his vassals said to him: "I don't care how close you are to your adopted child or beloved stepdaughter. The love a parent has for their non-biological child can't be the same as the love they have for their own flesh and blood!"1

"So wrong," the Duke muttered, quietly. "Dylan is exactly like her father. How could I not love her?"5

"Now you're speaking nonsense," Dylan said with a sigh. "Are you all right?"

"Ah," the Duke let out a sigh, admiring his daughter's narrowed eyes of concern. Even if she wasn't his own flesh and blood, Dylan was his daughter through and through. "I'm alright. I'll see you off now."

***

The beautiful snow-white horses' hooves echoed against the stone road rhythmically, their coats complimenting the carriage's elegant design. On the side of the carriage, the Beaumon's family crest stood out vividly amongst the colour scheme: a powerful symbol of the Duke's status and achievements passed down generation after generation. Dylan dismounted the carriage in a graceful manner. 

The girl adjusted the light pink bonnet at the back of her head, staring up at the soaring academy walls. They shimmered a strange gold in the morning light, cutting into the blue sky lined with cotton-white clouds. She gently pushed a loose strand of hair from her face, the silk material of her glove brushing against her delicately rouged cheeks. The academy was breathtaking, like a carefully painted portrait using the finest paints she had ever seen.

"Milady," Mina, her maid, called out from beside her. "The young master was supposed to meet us here, but I can't seem find him."

'I'm not surprised. The reason why he didn't come home for four years was because of me, after all.'

When Axil found out about Dylan's adoption in the novel, he was deeply affected by his father's choices. Not only did he detest Dylan's origins as a commoner, but he also couldn't understand why his father needed another child. 

The Duke didn't communicate the reason behind Dylan's adoption, which led to a bunch of misunderstandings between the father and son. Axil assumed that Dylan was the result of a love affair between the Duke and a commoner, leading him to believe his father was unfaithful to his mother when she was alive. 

The problem grew even worse when the two met at Faerchester. Since Dylan was emotionally and psychologically wounded, she would take her pain out on the servants and other students. The entire school knew of her violent and malicious ways, leading Axil to hate her even more.

'It gets so bad that he eventually kills me.'

"It's fine," she told Mina glancing around the academy grounds for the sign-in table. "Let's just go ourselves."

Mina huffed, "Fine, but I'm going to tell His Grace as soon as we get home!"

'It's finally time.'

Episode 3 end~