...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

Emma's POV

Emma’s head was throbbing, a dull, heavy ache. Everything felt strange, like she’d been dropped into someone else’s life. She blinked, adjusting to the dim light filtering through heavy curtains. As her vision cleared, her heart began to race.

This wasn’t her room.

She looked around, taking in the grand, old-fashioned furniture, the silk sheets, and the intricate designs on the high ceiling. Everything looked like it was from another century, like something from a historical drama.

“W-Where am I?” she whispered, her voice shaky.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, feeling a strange weight. She looked down and saw she was wearing a long, elaborate dress, far more ornate than anything she’d ever owned. Her fingers touched her face, feeling features that didn’t quite feel like hers.

“This can’t be happening…” she murmured, panic rising in her chest. “Am I… dreaming?”

Fragments of memory started coming back to her. She remembered the busy street, the stray cat, and the moment she dashed into traffic to save it. She remembered the blinding lights of a car – and then nothing. Just darkness. But now, here she was, in a strange body, in a place that looked like it belonged to a character from a novel.

Emma’s breath hitched as a realization struck her. “This looks like… the novel I was reading,” she whispered, her hands trembling. “No… no way. How is this possible?”

As she tried to make sense of it all, a soft creak pulled her attention to the door. Her heart skipped a beat as the door slowly opened, and a small boy peeked inside. He looked about three or four, with dark hair and big, curious eyes. His face lit up with a shy smile when he saw her.

“Mama?” he said, his small voice full of warmth and innocence.

Emma froze. Mama? She stared at the boy, her mind reeling. Was he talking to her? This little boy… was he supposed to be her son?

The boy stepped into the room, looking a bit worried. “Mama, are you okay?” he asked, his eyes searching her face.

Emma took a shaky breath, trying to find the right words. “Y-Yes, I’m… I’m okay,” she managed, her voice barely steady. Somehow, she felt an odd, unexplainable connection to this child.

“What’s your name?” she asked softly, trying to keep her tone calm.

The boy tilted his head, looking a bit confused, but he smiled. “Mama, I’m Ethan,” he said, as if it was obvious.

“Ethan…” she repeated, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. “That’s… a lovely name.”

Ethan giggled, his smile widening. He climbed onto the bed without hesitation, settling beside her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He cuddled close, his small hand gripping hers. “You’re funny, Mama,” he said with a soft laugh.

Emma’s heart melted a little. She still didn’t understand how she’d ended up here or why this was happening, but Ethan’s presence made the fear fade just a bit. He felt warm, real, and somehow… comforting.

As he leaned against her, closing his eyes, Emma instinctively began stroking his hair. She didn’t have the answers, but for now, maybe it was okay to just be here, to hold this little boy and let herself feel grounded in this strange new world.

For now, she could let go of her questions and just be his mother, if only for this moment.

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

Emma's POV

Emma was still holding little Ethan close when the door opened again. This time, a woman in a maid’s uniform stepped in. She was middle-aged, with her hair neatly tied back, and she looked at Emma with a mix of concern and respect.

“Oh, my lady! You’re awake,” the maid said, a look of relief crossing her face. She curtsied slightly, her hands folded in front of her. “How are you feeling?”

Emma blinked, unsure of what to say. Her head was spinning with questions. She took a deep breath, deciding to just ask what was on her mind.

“I… I’m not sure,” Emma replied. “Could you tell me… where am I? And… who am I?”

The maid’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked her surprise. “Oh, my lady, you’re in your chamber. In the Grand Duke’s estate, of course.” She tilted her head, looking a bit worried. “And you… you’re Duchess Beatrice d’Este, my lady.”

Emma’s heart raced. Duchess Beatrice d’Este? The name sounded familiar, and as she thought about it, fragments of the novel she’d been reading came back to her. Duchess Beatrice – the main character of the story! The woman who was married to the cold and distant Grand Duke Adrian… and now, somehow, that was her.

Emma swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “And… what happened to me?” she asked, her eyes searching the maid’s face.

The maid glanced at Ethan, who was still snuggled against Emma, then back at her. “My lady, you were unwell,” she said gently. “You fainted last evening, and we feared you might be ill. You’ve been resting since then.”

Emma nodded slowly, absorbing the information. So, I fainted… or rather, Duchess Beatrice did. But what was she supposed to do now? She was stuck in this world, in someone else’s life, and no one seemed to know she wasn’t really Beatrice.

“Thank you,” Emma said quietly, trying to hide her confusion.

The maid gave her a warm, reassuring smile. “Of course, my lady. Please let me know if you need anything at all.”

Emma looked down at Ethan, who was still clinging to her, and felt a mix of emotions – confusion, fear, and a strange warmth she couldn’t explain. But before she could say anything more, the maid’s expression changed. She looked closely at Emma, as if noticing something unusual.

“My lady…” The maid hesitated, her brow furrowing. “Do you remember everything? Are you feeling… all right?”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat. She could see the worry growing in the maid’s eyes. Did she look that different from the real Beatrice? Did her confusion show that much?

“I… I feel fine,” Emma said slowly, forcing a small smile. “Just… a little tired.”

The maid’s face softened, but she still looked troubled. “Oh, dear,” she murmured under her breath, almost to herself. “Perhaps… perhaps it’s the senility again.”

Before Emma could react, the maid straightened up, a new urgency in her eyes. “Please wait here, my lady. I’ll fetch the physician at once!”

Emma opened her mouth to protest, but the maid was already halfway out the door, moving quickly. “Wait! I—” But the door had already closed behind her, leaving Emma alone with Ethan.

Emma took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. The maid thought she was suffering from… senility? She couldn’t help but feel a bit insulted, but she also realized it might be a way to explain her confusion. At least, for now.

She glanced at Ethan, who was watching her with wide eyes. He didn’t seem scared, just curious. She gave him a small, reassuring smile, hoping to hide her own worry.

“It’s okay, Ethan,” she said softly, stroking his hair. “Mama’s just… a little tired, that’s all.”

He nodded, his tiny hand squeezing hers. “Okay, Mama.”

Emma held his hand, trying to find some comfort in his warm, gentle presence. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to keep up this act, but for now, she’d play along. After all, she had no other choice.

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...