Prologue: The Modern then Noble

If someone told me I would end up living inside a noble fantasy world, I would’ve laughed and said, “Bro, go touch grass.” And yet, here I am.

Let me start from the beginning. Shall we?

I don’t remember much about my childhood in this world. It’s weird, right? Like I was just… there. Eating. Sleeping. Complaining. Being told to sit properly like some princess-in-training when I didn’t even ask to be born rich in the first place. Only from what people told me I used to be.

Lady Lioravelle Serentha Evyraen.

That's my name. Pretty long and unique right?

A fourteen year old elegant noble girl.

Daughter of Duke Ronan and Duchess Felisia.

The Perfect Puppet

Apparently, I used to be the

“perfect noble daughter.”

Polite smile. Proper posture. Soft voice. Never too loud. Never too much. The type of girl people praised but didn’t really see.

“Lady Lioravelle, posture,” they'd say.

“Yes, I understand,” I would reply, fixing my back immediately. Not because I wanted to, but because that’s what was expected.

“Lady Lioravelle, smile for the guests.” So I smiled. Even when my cheeks felt tired. Even when I didn’t feel like smiling at all.

“Such a graceful young lady,” they would say, and I would nod. “Thank you very much.”

That was it. That was my whole personality. How would I describe it? Boring. Like, really boring. The kind of boring that makes you question if my whole life is a story that was written just to go by. I even started thinking maybe I died in my past life and this was my punishment—

which, by the way, I wasn’t totally wrong about.

It was peaceful, but also… kind of empty. Like living in a room full of beautiful things but not knowing if they were yours.

Then I turned fifteen,

and everything broke.

It didn’t start dramatically—no lightning, no divine voice, no magical “chosen one” moment.

It started with a dream.

A really annoying one.

I saw a girl in a room.

A glowing rectangle in her hands. Hair messy. Eyes tired. Expression completely done with life. She said, “Why am I like this? I need to fix my life.” Then she ate something called instant noodles and the clock pointed at 2 AM like it was a ritual.

I stared at her. “…Who is that?” I whispered in the dream. Though I was extremely confused yet I felt everything around me was so strangely familiar...

And then she looked up... and then it hit me.

That was me.

My past life' me.

And I was like: “…Oh. So I really did die. Cool. That explains a lot actually.” No tears. No dramatic screaming. Just pure acceptance and a little bit of “what the hell is going on.”

Then the dream changed. Like my background suddenly shattered into glasses.

Everything started glitching like a broken video. Suddenly, I saw things I had never seen before but somehow knew.

A grand academy.

Nobles fighting with magic.

A man with dark desaturated purple hair standing alone in a garden. Blood. A curse. A countdown I couldn’t fully read.

A mysterious girl who's face was blur enough to be recognized.

And one name kept repeating in my head:

Kaelith Vo—***

I woke up gasping, sweating like I just ran for my life. Which, honestly, I kind of did mentally.

“...I need a life refund.”

The moment I said that, everything shattered.

I woke up falling off my bed.

"OW—WHY IS THE FLOOR PERSONAL TODAY?!”

A maid rushed in immediately. “My lady?!”

I sat up too fast, clutching my head.

“My brain just leaked information I was not ready for.”

“…Leaked?”

“Yes. There was a cutscene and everything.”

The maid stood there like she was trying to decide if this counted as a medical emergency.

And that was the first crack.

The worst part? After that dream, things started feeling wrong. Not scary wrong-- more like… familiar wrong. At first, it was small. I would pause during conversations, stare at things too long, or sometimes say things I didn’t fully understand.

“This situation feels… suspiciously scripted,” I muttered once.

My personal maid blinked. “Scripted?”

“…Ignore that.”

It was like I was reading a story I wasn’t supposed to remember. I started noticing names I shouldn’t know and events I somehow predicted. I realized I wasn’t just living; I was inside a story. A damn novel. At first, I denied it. No way I got reincarnated into some fantasy noble world like those cliché webnovels I used to read while ignoring my responsibilities. That would be insane. That would be—

“…Actually kinda funny,”

I admitted out loud once. Because yeah, it was exactly like that. So I did what any normal person would do:

I panicked. Internally.

Externally, I just kept acting like a normal noble girl who definitely had her life together.

Which I did NOT.

When the memories came back, they didn't come gently. It was like someone opened a floodgate and said “good luck.” I just sat there in bed like: “…Oh. So I was insane there too. Great. Multiverse of stress.”

My life went from

 “modern girl stressing about rent and internet bills”

to

“noble girl stressing about noble etiquette and life identity crisis 2.0.”

One morning, when a maid came in to announce breakfast, I nodded slowly and said,

“I am mentally unstable right now, but I will attend.”

She paused. “…Unstable?”

“Yeah. Loading. Please wait.”

She slowly backed out of the room, probably to report me later.

When I finally went to breakfast, everything felt too normal, which made it worse.

My mother sat at the head of the table.

“Liora, you look distracted.”;

'Liora' is what my so elegant parents always calls me, apparently my nickname.

I stared at my plate. “I am spiritually elsewhere.”

Silence.

My father looked up. “Explain.”

I thought for a second. “…My soul is doing updates.”

My mother blinked. “…Updates?”

“Yes. New patch.”

My maid dropped a spoon.

It only got worse- in the funniest way possible.

A servant dropped a tray, and while everyone gasped, I immediately said, “Skill issue.”

Silence.

My brain didn’t even register what I said until three seconds later. Then I went, “…Wait, no, I didn’t mean that out loud.”

The servant was so confused yet started crying as if they felt it as an insult. I panicked.

“I MEAN—YOU DID YOUR BEST THOUGH??”

Too late.

Damage done.

My maid whispered, “My lady… what does ‘skill issue’ mean?”

I sighed. “It means… unfortunate circumstances with extra judgment.”

She nodded slowly like she was translating ancient scripture.

During dinner, my father said, “Eat properly, Liora.”

“I am eating properly,” I said, stabbing a fruit. “This is my coping mechanism.”

“That is not a coping mechanism.”

“It is now.”

At some point, I blurted things I shouldn't have to-more or so about names I shouldn’t recognize, events I somehow guessed before they happened.

Like:

“The northern trade route will collapse soon,” I said randomly one day at dinner.

My father paused. “…Why would you say that?” I shrugged. “Vibes.”

It actually happened two weeks later. No one let me speak at dinner after that.

Even during etiquette lessons, I couldn't help it. “My lady, you must not refer to royal traditions as outdated systems.”

I blinked. “…But they kind of are, though.”

The tutor almost dropped their book.

“Not to be rude, my lady, though I do not know what you mean about ‘outdated systems’ but I know THEY ARE NOT.”

I leaned back. “Agree to disagree.”

My maid whispered, “Please stop disagreeing with teachers.”

I whispered back, “I physically cannot.”

My parents were genuinely concerned. “She speaks… differently now,” my mother said one night.

My father replied, “It is like she is the same person but… a bit crazy.”

I was standing outside the door again, pointing at myself. “…Rude, but accurate.”

That sums it up my whole year after receiving my modern memories like a update patch.

And then I turned sixteen.

A month after my birthday, that was when my life said "prologue finished. Onto chapter 1"

One day while I was having the best time of my life eating the delicacies I've never had in my whole life now in 2.0,

the worst cutscene came I expected to come but wished it didn't.

You know what it is? Guess!

Actually, don’t. I’ll tell you. It’s the one thing that can ruin your peaceful life faster than a "We need to talk" text from your ex.

'The Imperial Academy Letter'

And yes, this is where I'd desperately would ask for a life refund.

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