Chapter 3
Perhaps it was because her body and mind had weakened every time she collapsed, coughing up blood.
Through the faint cracks in her unconscious mind, memories of her past life forced their way in, tormenting her in the form of nightmares.
The nightmares always began with the same scene.
Children from her elementary school class—faces she could no longer even remember—surrounded her.
“They say Oh Joo-yeon, the kid actor from that weekend drama, is your sister, right?”
“So your sister is Oh Joo-yeon, and you’re Oh Jo-yeon? Does that mean even at home she’s the main character and you’re just an extra?”
“No, no! Oh Joo-yeon is just her stage name. Her real name isn’t that. It’s Oh Eun-ji! And my name doesn’t mean anything like that either!”
“Still, your parents are too much. How can they name their daughters like that…?”
Her past life as “Oh Jo-yeon” had been a series of lonely days spent in the shadow of her popular child-actor sister.
But perhaps that had been the better time.
Because when she grew up, she really did become her sister’s extra.
“Isn’t it nice to earn a bit of money working as an extra next to your sister?”
“No, I don’t want to! I said I don’t want to!”
“Stop complaining and listen to your mother. Your sister is working hard out there in the cold, and you’re just lazing around—how can I watch that?”
Unable to resist her mother’s pressure, she ended up taking a job as an extra in a historical drama her sister was starring in.
Filming in the snowy hills of a small provincial city during winter was grueling.
One day, after several days of heavy snow had created a breathtaking winter landscape, she slipped on ice while heading to the filming location.
“Ahhh!”
She tumbled and tumbled down the slope.
Her skin was scratched, torn, and split open by rocks and branches.
In the final moment, the thought flashed through her mind: that dying as “Oh Jo-yeon,” working as an extra, was like some twisted comedy.
The absurdity made her chuckle faintly even as her consciousness faded.
And then Oh Jo-yeon died—along with the unbearable pain.
“Ah… it hurts…! Ahhh…”
“Shhh… It’s okay, my Ruby. Mommy’s here with you. Everything’s fine… shhh.”
A warm hand touched Rubiana’s forehead.
Who…? Mom? …No. My mom would be in my sister’s room, rehearsing lines with her. Then whose touch is this…?
Even in her half-asleep state, she could feel it clearly—someone staying beside her all night, gently stroking her forehead.
Someone with a tender touch and a gentle voice.
“That’s right, my Ruby is such a good girl. Just keep having sweet dreams like this.”
Pat, pat. The kind hand caressed her shoulder.
Ruby… ah, they’re talking to Rubiana. Rubiana must be so lucky…
That thought floated through her drowsy mind.
“The young lady’s energy is extremely unstable.”
“What is the cause?”
“Well…”
The elderly white-haired physician shook his head.
Payson Count let out a heavy sigh.
All week long, doctors, apothecaries, and healers reputed to be the best in the empire had come and gone, yet none could explain why Rubiana kept collapsing and coughing up blood.
They could only shake their heads in silence.
“My Ruby, don’t worry too much. I will scour the entire world if I must, but I will find someone who can cure you.”
His eyes held a desperate determination.
“Yes, I believe you, Father. I will get better. So I’m not worried.”
“That’s my girl. Good.”
The Count’s large hand stroked her head.
She smiled softly at him, as if to reassure him when he looked on the verge of tears.
Once everyone had left the bedroom, Rubiana lay back, closing her eyes and steadying her breath.
Her head ached from the incomprehensible situation.
“What went wrong?” she murmured into her hands.
Suddenly, last night’s nightmare surfaced, worsening the headache.
A short life spent struggling in her sister’s shadow, only to die as an extra.
The more she thought about it, the more pitiful and depressing it seemed.
Oh Jo-yeon is dead. There’s no more extra. My name is Rubiana, and I’m the heroine of this novel.
She lifted her head slowly, clenching her teeth with resolve.
But why hasn’t the spirit appeared yet? And why does this body keep collapsing?
She recalled the moment in the imperial palace gardens when she was threatened by a monster—and when she collapsed, coughing up blood.
A face came to mind.
…Elion Klitzman, the Grand Duke.
Perhaps because it was the last face she saw before blacking out, the image of his piercing blue eyes lingered like an afterimage.
She also remembered the firm grasp around her waist.
Even though our skin didn’t touch, I felt warmth instantly. It was strange.
No, no.
She stopped herself from thinking further about Elion.
This isn’t the time to be daydreaming about the shadowy Grand Duke.
If she couldn’t become a spirit master, she couldn’t join the Imperial Knights.
And if she couldn’t join the knights, the novel couldn’t begin.
And if the novel couldn’t begin…
I’ll stop being the heroine…!
That was unacceptable. Absolutely not.
She had lived and died as an extra once already—she wouldn’t accept that fate again in this new life.
I must become the heroine. No matter what.
But how?
She thought hard.
Why hasn’t the story begun properly? What caused the change?
Other than the fact that she had taken over Rubiana’s body, nothing else had changed.
She had done nothing that would significantly alter the original plot.
She had simply waited quietly for the story to start.
Ah… maybe this collapsing body is the problem?
Indeed, it was strange.
In the original story, Rubiana’s spirit affinity manifested later than others, but there was no mention of any health issues.
On the contrary, it was said she was quite healthy despite her slender frame.
Yes. This sudden illness is definitely the problem.
She jumped up from bed.
She needed to see a doctor—one truly capable of diagnosing her.
“All right. Let’s go meet him.”
“Haa…”
Standing in front of a small toy repair shop, Rubiana exhaled deeply.
It was the first time she had knowingly stepped outside the original plot’s flow, so she couldn’t help feeling tense.
She opened the shop door and stepped inside, addressing the middle-aged clerk.
“I’m here to have a music box repaired. I’d like to watch the repair process myself.”
“Please wait a moment.”
The clerk immediately walked toward the hallway.
The phrase I’d like to watch the repair process was a code used only here—it meant she wanted to meet him.
Moments later, the clerk returned, pointing down the hall.
“Last room at the end.”
She steadied her pounding heart and walked forward.
The spacious treatment room smelled faintly of dried herbs.
“Welcome. Please, sit.”
A young man with curly pink hair and a black cloth over his eyes spoke.
She sat down in the chair he indicated.
This was Omar Foshin, the empire’s greatest healer in seclusion—a significant supporting character in the original story.
The blindfold was part of his training to see the world using only magic, not sight.
“What brings you here?”
“About two weeks ago, I suddenly began experiencing dizziness. I also had stomach pains… and I’ve collapsed, coughing up blood. I used to be healthy, but my body has suddenly gone strange.”
“I see. Hmm… Please, place your hands on this crystal orb.”
She followed his instructions.
The orb, about the size of a soccer ball, was warm to the touch.
When Omar placed his hands on it as well, she felt the warmth steadily increase.
…Hot!
She gritted her teeth, enduring the rising heat.
“That will do. You may remove your hands.”
She pulled them away quickly, exhaling and rubbing them together while glancing at Omar’s face.
His eyebrows twitched ever so slightly.
“You are not the original owner of this body.”
The calm voice pierced into her ears like a sharp blade.
How… did he know?
Her heart lurched as if it had dropped to the floor.
