The pain vanished before Margot could understand when she'd stopped breathing.
There was no heaven. No lights. No distant voices calling her name.
Just a strange weight in her body. Then cold. Bitter cold.
She opened her eyes slowly, and the first thing she noticed was the smell. Not disinfectant or medication — it smelled like dampness, old wood, and cheap soap. She blinked several times, trying to focus on the dark ceiling above her head. Wooden beams. A small window let in a grayish light, and rough blankets barely covered her legs.
She stayed still for a few seconds.
Then spoke in a dry voice.
"Either I'm alive or hell needs urgent renovations."
Her throat burned when she talked.
Margot tried to sit up, but an intense pain ran through her entire body. Her arms felt weak, as if she'd been sick for weeks. She looked down slowly.
The hands weren't hers.
Thinner.
Pale.
With small scars.
And on the left arm, just below the worn sleeve, there was a dark mark.
She frowned.
"No... no, no. I've seen too many weird novels not to suspect what this is."
The door flew open before she could think further.
A brown-haired girl came in carrying a bucket of wet laundry. The moment she saw Margot sitting up, her eyes went wide.
"Dafne!"
Margot stared at her in confusion.
The girl dropped the bucket on the floor and ran to the bed.
"Are you crazy? You sat up way too fast — yesterday you looked dead."
Margot blinked. The girl touched her forehead with concern.
"You're still hot. If Miss Brina sees you working like this, she'll send you to the kitchens anyway."
"Who's Brina?"
The girl went quiet.
"Dafne... did you hit your head?"
Margot breathed slowly.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Memories began mixing inside her head all at once. Images that weren't hers, disordered fragments, emotions that didn't belong to her.
A little girl scrubbing floors.
A voice calling her useless.
Pain in her arm.
Hunger.
Fear.
Margot shut her eyes hard, pressing a hand to her temple.
"God..."
"I'm Dafne now. An Omega servant. I don't remember the story exactly. I've read a lot about this genre. What a mess."
She thought.
The girl caught her before she could fall again.
"I told you not to get up."
Dafne swallowed, trying to stay calm.
"I need you to answer something without freaking out."
"Now I'm actually freaking out."
"What year is it?"
The girl opened her mouth slowly.
"Dafne... I think the fever melted your brain. It's 956. The Age of Silver."
Dafne let out a long sigh.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
Hours later she was still trying to accept that her new life was inside a fantasy story.
Her name was now Dafne.
She was nineteen years old.
She was an Omega.
And on top of that, a poor Omega who worked as a servant inside the imperial palace.
Dafne had thought many times that historical romance fiction was entertaining — as long as you read it with coffee and a blanket.
Living inside one turned out to be something else entirely.
Much worse.
Especially because in this world, Omegas were treated as second-class citizens.
She discovered that the moment she left the small room.
The service-area hallways were full of workers moving fast, heads down, avoiding attention. Some had marks on their necks that distinguished their ranks. Others barely looked up when they crossed paths with someone of higher standing.
And the Omegas...
Dafne noticed the difference immediately.
They talked less.
They stepped aside faster.
They lived on edge.
A tall woman walked past her carrying trays and frowned the moment she saw Dafne standing still.
"You going to stand there all day?"
"I'm seriously considering passing out again."
The woman gave her a tired look.
"Lucky you, being able to joke around. Move before Brina sees you."
Dafne kept walking while trying to organize her thoughts. Dafne's body was exhausted from even simple tasks. Her legs ached, her back hurt, and she felt a strange emptiness in her chest, as if she hadn't truly rested in years.
The girl who'd found her that morning walked beside her.
"You shouldn't be working today."
"I also shouldn't have died from a snake, and here we are."
"You're talking weird again."
"You think so?"
The girl finally let out a small laugh.
"Yeah. I've known you since we were little. We grew up serving together."
"I see..." she said, trying not to sound strange.
"The fever definitely messed you up."
Dafne barely smiled.
The girl's name was Lina. She was an Omega too, though a little healthier than Dafne. She talked fast, looked around too much, and seemed to live in constant fear of making mistakes.
They reached the kitchens and the noise hit Dafne immediately — pots, shouted orders, hot steam, and workers running in every direction.
A sturdy woman with a severe face turned the moment she saw them.
"Dafne."
Dafne understood at once that this was Brina.
"Good morning," she replied.
Brina narrowed her eyes.
"You're five minutes late... I'm still waiting on the trays for the west wing."
Dafne sighed inwardly. She couldn't argue her way out of this. She had to survive this new hierarchy until she found a way out.
She didn't plan on serving for the rest of her life.
She picked up a tray carefully and nearly dropped it from the weakness in her arms.
Brina watched with annoyance.
"You look like a ghost."
"Thank you. I'm trying to maintain a delicate image."
Lina coughed, trying to hide a laugh.
Brina shook her head.
"If you're going to faint, do it after you deliver that."
As they walked through the main corridors, Dafne began noticing the differences between the palace's social classes. Alphas walked as if everything belonged to them. Betas seemed to stay neutral. And Omegas lowered their eyes the moment anyone important appeared.
An Omega boy passed close to a noble Alpha, and the man shoved his shoulder just because the boy was in the way.
"Watch where you're going."
The boy apologized immediately.
Dafne frowned.
"How unpleasant."
Lina dropped her voice at once.
"Don't talk like that."
"Why?"
"Because someone might hear you."
"So?"
Lina stopped and stared at her in horror.
"Dafne, Omegas don't respond that way."
Dafne gripped the tray harder.
Something inside her churned every time she saw those scenes. She'd dealt with unbearable clients, arrogant people, and men who believed they had the right to treat others badly because they paid more — but this was different.
It was normal here.
That was the worst part.
They climbed the main staircase and the atmosphere changed at once. The palace's luxury was staggering — golden lamps, thick carpets, and enormous windows letting in the midday light.
Dafne had barely managed to look around when she heard several voices go tense nearby.
"The Emperor is coming."
The entire hallway fell silent.
Lina lowered her head immediately.
Dafne took a second to react.
And then she saw him.
Hazem Amatore walked surrounded by guards and nobles. Tall, cold expression, impeccable dark clothing. He didn't look approachable. He didn't even look accessible. His long, jet-black hair moved freely. And his earrings gleamed with immense power.
People stepped aside the moment he passed.
Dafne felt something strange in her left arm.
A sudden burning.
Sharp.
She frowned and looked down discreetly at the mark beneath her sleeve.
It was searing her skin.
"What the hell...?"
Hazem continued walking until his eyes shifted barely toward her.
Just one second.
But Dafne felt an uncomfortable chill run through her entire body.
The Emperor slowed his pace slightly.
One of the nobles spoke immediately.
"Your Majesty, the council meeting has already begun."
Hazem was still watching Dafne.
Lina looked ready to die of fright.
Dafne held his gaze for a few seconds without understanding why that man produced so much pressure in her chest.
Then Hazem spoke in a calm voice.
"That servant."
The entire hallway went rigid.
Brina appeared almost running from the back.
"Your Majesty, forgive her if she made a mistake."
Hazem looked Dafne up and down. She felt the burning intensify.
What a terrible moment for an existential crisis.
"What is your name?" he asked.
She hesitated for just a beat.
"Dafne."
The Emperor kept studying her in that strange way, as if trying to remember something.
Dafne felt uncomfortable immediately.
She'd seen intense stares before.
Furious clients.
Arrogant doctors.
Angry men.
But this was different.
More personal.
Hazem finally looked away.
"She's pale. Is she ill?"
Brina answered quickly.
"She just had a fever, Your Majesty."
"Useless servants slow down the work."
The coldness in his voice made Lina lower her head even further.
Dafne felt irritation immediately.
Right.
It made sense that the Emperor would be one of those men.
Hazem started walking again, but before he left, he spoke once more without looking back.
"Have a doctor examine her."
Brina's eyes widened in surprise.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The group continued on until they disappeared down the corridor.
Silence hung for a few seconds.
Then Lina spun toward Dafne.
"What was that?"
Dafne was still staring at the empty hallway while her arm burned beneath her sleeve.
"I wish I knew."
Brina looked confused and annoyed at the same time.
"The Emperor never notices servants."
Dafne let out a small, dry laugh.
"Well, clearly today he decided to ruin his track record."
***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***
Updated 40 Episodes
Download
Like this story? Download the app to keep your reading history.
Comments