Freedom's Heart

Chapter 2

This is bad. I really am Angelina Lamonia. The villainess, the heartless, merciless bully of the Royal Magical Academy. The main antagonist of the otome game, Freedom's Heart, and the one character destined to die no matter what route the heroine ends up walking down. I still hope this is some kind of bad dream but every day I wake up in my crib, it dawns on me just how real the whole thing is.

There must be something to do to avoid this fate. I have not played the game Freedom's Heart in years, but from what I can recall, I am already screwed. My father runs several Cotton Ball ranches with an iron fist caring only for profits. Oh, I should mention that Cotton Ball's, in this case, refers to a weak low-level monster in this world that drops cotton when defeated. Still, despite how weak they are because my father refused to give his workers, proper equipment injuries were an everyday occurrence. If the injury were server enough that the person could no longer work, my father would just fire the man.

My mother is just as bad with no sense of money. She keeps our family on the verge of bankruptcy just to satisfy her endless desire for more extravagant useless things. Part of me says there is no point in avoiding my fate when I look at the mountain I must climb and just accept my fate. But I cannot just lay down and die like this. There must be something I can do. If only my tiny body would not get tired so quickly, I am sure I could think of a way out of this mess.

I swear every person I heard say they wish they could go back in time to when they were a baby and start over are idiots. You cannot stay awake for more than ten minutes, control your bowels and need I mention the embarrassment of being breastfed. If I did not have the memories from my old life, I am sure this would be bearable, but as someone with the mind of an adult, I feel like I could die of embarrassment every single day.

"Angelina dear, it's time to greet our guests,"

In my opinion, my mother looked a lot better when I was firstborn, with her face free of makeup and wearing only a plain simple nightgown. Now though, I am not sure how anyone could consider her good looking. The white powder coating her face, along with the ruby red lipstick and blue eyeliner, makes her look more like a clown than a noblewoman. This is what I mean about my mother wasting money on useless stuff. Whenever a new fashion trend appears, she is quick to jump on it and waste no expense on making sure she is at the top of that trend. Her dress is just as bad. It is not ugly for sure, but the amount of gold and silver attached to the thing a family could feed themselves for years if they were to sell the over-the-top dress. At least she has spared me so far, but I fear that is about to change soon as she increasingly starts to bring up what clothes look best on me.

My mother picks me, upholding me close to her ample chest that threatens to tear open her dress. I am sure plenty of guys would call this heaven, but they do not have to be overwhelmed by my mother's perfume. I swear the person how produced this scent should be imprisoned for making a bioweapon, as the overpowering smell makes me sick. At least the walk is short, so I do not have to suffer for long.

"She really is a little angel just like you said, lady Lamonia,"

I have only been alive in this world for six months, but thanks to having the mental stats of an adult, I can already recognise the groups of friends my parents keep. To make things easier, I narrowed them down into two factions. The group uses my family for power, and the group enables their extravagant behaviour. My mother always invites the group of women over belong to the enabling faction. They constantly insist on only the best and look down on those who cannot have those things.