Chapter 1
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“Mother, who am I, and where am I?”
Even as I clutched my aching head and scanned the unfamiliar surroundings, the reflection in the mirror was unmistakably that of Elizabeth Arlesia.
Crimson-red hair, streaked with silver, cascading in luscious waves. Slightly upturned eyes, and the rare silver irises of the Empire—every detail screamed the name of the infamous villainess and witch from The Saint, Osborne: Elizabeth Arlesia.
“…Why, of all people…?”
She was beautiful. Stunningly so. But the owner of this body, Elizabeth, was a villainess destined for a tragic death in The Saint, Osborne. The realization hit me like a thunderclap: I had somehow been transported into her body. I let out a silent scream of despair, as the foggy memories of a dream from the night before began to resurface.
I had been asleep. I must have dozed off after binge-reading the long-hiatus novel The Saint, Osborne. In my dream, I found myself walking down a pitch-black tunnel, impossibly long. When I reached what I thought was the end, I was met with terror—a space engulfed in darkness, with a black figure emitting a sinister glow.
Thinking it was just a nightmare, I tried to run. But the tunnel disappeared, and invisible walls trapped me. Helpless, I crumpled to the ground as the ominous figure loomed over me.
“Go back…”
I didn’t understand where or how I was supposed to return. The space was a dark, incomprehensible void, and the shadowy figure repeated the same phrase over and over—”Go back.” Each time I struggled, the figure’s presence grew even more oppressive.
“I… I want to go back too!”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. Driven by fear, I hoped the figure knew how to send me back. If this was a dream, staying still or running might make me wake up. My mind raced for any explanation.
Though I had no idea what “going back” meant, I was sincere. Trembling, I heard the figure’s voice one final time.
“Since one who should not have crossed over has done so, I shall reveal how to return.”
“…What? Someone who shouldn’t… have crossed over…?”
Before I could comprehend those words, the black figure vanished in a burst of dark light. Then I woke up.
When my eyes opened, it wasn’t the familiar ceiling of my small apartment. Instead, intricate, ornate patterns adorned the ceiling, framed by an elegant white canopy that gently draped down. That was just a few hours ago.
At first, I didn’t realize I had become Elizabeth. If it hadn’t been for a maid exclaiming, “Lady Elizabeth!” and helping me into this chair, I might have brushed it all off as another strange dream, waiting for it to fade.
Then I noticed the note in my hand.
“Become the villainess and die. Only then will you be returned to your original world.”
It was impossible to ignore. Whoever wrote this knew that the soul inhabiting Elizabeth’s body wasn’t from this world. The note was written in Korean—not the language of the Morc Empire where Elizabeth lived—making it clear this wasn’t something I could simply dismiss.
No, more accurately, it seemed to resemble the “return method” the black figure had mentioned in my dream. That thought sent an unsettling chill down my spine.
The problem was, The Saint, Osborne, the novel where Elizabeth was a villainess, was still incomplete and on indefinite hiatus. That meant her death was inevitable, but what followed was anyone’s guess.
Why was this note in my hand?
The black figure’s words echoed in my mind: “You, who should not be here, made a mistake in coming. Follow the book’s storyline to your death, and I’ll send you back to your original world.”
It wasn’t like my original world had been anything special. Overworked, berated by my boss—my life had been far from ideal. But—oh! Suddenly, I remembered—last night, I’d won tickets to a Bangbom Boys concert! That alone had been enough to fill me with excitement. Yes, I had to return. I had to see my adorable boys!
“But why did it have to be Elizabeth Arlesia, of all people? Couldn’t I have been…?”
“…a kind protagonist, or even an extra with an uneventful life?”
Elizabeth, the villainess destined to commit evil deeds and die—that was her fate. The note clearly stated she must “die as a villainess.” No matter how much I wished it were different, her death was inevitable. Whether the novel was on hiatus or not, that was the reality. So the way back? It was clear.
“Die as a villainess.” That’s what it meant. Could I really pull it off? Maybe I just needed to follow the storyline. Or perhaps I could use my nobility to my advantage and lord it over others.
“Ugh… Fine. Life’s short anyway! Since this world offers fame and wealth I could never dream of back home, I’ll live it up as a villainess!”
After all, it’s just a story. If this is my fate, then I’ll embrace it—become a villainess, die, and return to my world. Whether the note truly has the power to send me back or not, it felt too orchestrated to ignore. From the ominous figure in my nightmare promising to show me the way back, to waking up with this strange note in my hand—it all seemed planned.
“Even if I die, it’ll be Elizabeth who dies, not me. It’ll be fine.”
That thought brought a little comfort as I tried to understand Elizabeth’s character.
Elizabeth’s family background in the novel was absurd. Her father was a count, making her the daughter of a count’s household, but her mother came from a higher-ranking marquess family. Furthermore, her maternal family, the Vincent House, was so prestigious that the emperor himself had offered them a duchy title. But Elizabeth’s grandfather had declined, saying, “Titles shape people,” and chose to remain a marquess. In practice, their authority was equal to that of a duke’s.
On the other hand, Elizabeth’s paternal family was an unremarkable count’s lineage, with no ambition for power. And yet, from this bizarre family mix, a notorious villainess had been born.
The family tree was ridiculous, but what could I do? The plot was entirely at the author’s discretion, and clearly, the author had a “not all good people produce good offspring” mentality—likely a reflection of some office-worker cynicism.
“More importantly, how does one even become a villainess?”
In the original novel, Elizabeth, known as a witch, was the antithesis of Osborne, who was revered as a saint. Elizabeth openly despised Osborne, refusing to hide her contempt for the saint. Osborne was admired by everyone, including the emperor, Karlcia Senil Morc, the empire’s sole duke, Rath Arahan, and a seemingly ordinary priest with extraordinary powers, Arten. Elizabeth’s jealousy reached its peak when Osborne monopolized their love and attention, especially that of the emperor, whom Elizabeth had fallen for at first sight.
In this scenario, Osborne’s love story unfolded with Duke Arahan, while the emperor blamed Elizabeth for everything, using her as a scapegoat, and eventually having her executed as a witch. Of course, Elizabeth’s many evil deeds, aimed at eliminating Osborne, played a significant role in her downfall.
Now, it was my turn to carry out all of those evil deeds. Because, of all times, I had been possessed on the day of the imperial ball, the day Elizabeth first laid eyes on the emperor and fell for him at first sight!!
“What was she wearing on this day again? Ah, yes. The emperor’s least favorite color…”
I wracked my brain to remember. The emperor despised red. Despite leading blood-soaked wars, he had an intense aversion to the color. That detail had stuck with me. On this fateful day, Elizabeth, with her crimson hair, made her grand entrance in a red dress. Naturally, the emperor’s first impression of her was far from favorable.
“Yes, it was definitely a red dress.”
As I bit my lip, recalling the sequence of events, a knock echoed at the door of Elizabeth’s room.
Knock knock knock.
“My Lady, it’s Maya.”
“Ah… Maya. Come in.”
Maya, the head maid of the Arlesia household, had been Elizabeth’s nanny since childhood. Seeing her made the reality of the situation hit home—this was the world of the novel, and I was now Elizabeth. I tried to imitate Elizabeth’s mannerisms as naturally as possible, to avoid arousing suspicion.
“Oh my, My Lady. You’re not dressed yet?!”
“I was debating which dress would suit me best. Maya, what do you think of this red dress?”
“Oh my! My Lady’s sense of style gets better every time I see it. It matches your crimson hair and silver eyes perfectly. Please wait a moment; I’ll help you put it on right away.”
“Alright.”
In truth, a red dress would stand out too much against Elizabeth’s crimson hair and silver eyes. But that was exactly her style—she loved the attention. She hated it when that attention shifted to Osborne. A villainess like Elizabeth adored the emperor, but whether it was out of a desire for power or genuine affection was unclear. To her, Osborne was undoubtedly public enemy number one.
‘But seriously, what’s with this corset…’
“Aaaaagh!!”
I couldn’t help but scream as Maya mercilessly tightened the corset around my waist. No matter how much I begged for mercy, she showed no sign of relenting. It suddenly made sense why women in medieval times either died young or had hunched backs. Was this some kind of immersive world history experience?
Just as I was reflecting on this, Maya gave another firm tug, as if to snuff out my thoughts entirely. Whether it was her skill or the corset’s design, my waist became impossibly slim. Honestly, if I could have this waist without the corset, that’d be great. Ugh. Once I return, the first thing I’ll do is go on a diet.
“My Lady, what jewelry would you like to wear?”
“…Hmm. All red.”
“Pardon?”
“Everything in red.”
Maya looked at me, stunned, as if she’d misheard. But my response remained unchanged: “All in red.” Why? Because the emperor hated red! That was the simple reason. If I could get on the emperor’s bad side, his attention would naturally shift to Osborne, and my villainous deeds could begin.
Two painstaking hours later, my makeup and outfit were complete. My reflection in the mirror showed a vision that would be perfect for driving the emperor into a fit of rage.
“Completely drenched in red, I look like tteokbokki.”
A woman with porcelain-white skin and crimson-tinted hair was draped entirely in red. I had intended to wear red shoes as well, but Maya insisted on white, so I reluctantly complied. Even my hair accessory was a red flower, reminiscent of a rose, completing the look.
“Tteokbokki. Perfect.”
