Another Villainess

Chapter One

"Miss. . ." My eyes flicker over to a small girl in a maid outfit with brown hair tied up into a tight bun. Her trembling is noticeable and as soon as I look at her, she looks down at the ground. "Miss, your food is here."

I nod and wave her away, staring back at the wall in front of me.

It was only two nights ago that I was sleeping in my own bed, in my cramped room, with my own face that i was used to, and my body that I had grown up in. And now, I'm in an unfamiliar place, completely alone, and what's worse, nobody here likes the person who's body I've inhabited.

I grin, the situation too ridiculous and too unfortunate. And then, with a shiver down my back, I bring my hands to my face, my grin flipping as sobs escape my mouth, because as funny as this is, there's nothing to laugh about.

Maybe I didn't live my life to the fullest, but I worked hard. I got into med school, dropped out of med school because it wasn't my passion, and pursued an engineering major. But I was preparing myself so that future me could finally experience new things and have fun. And now—
I touch Leondra's soft, pitch-black hair— now I can't because for some reason I am here.

Sighing, I get off the bed, approaching the covered food tray on the table, my expectations hanging low as a result of the subpar first meal I received yesterday when I arrived.

And to no surprise, underneath the cover is a handful of lettuce with a few tomato slices— could this even be called a salad? I'd say it's more like rabbit food— my growling stomach is not enough motivation for me to shove this 'meal' down my throat. I know it won't fill my stomach at all, and honestly it's a little humiliating.

I look into the mirror for the second time, admiring the almost frightening beauty. My sight flickers from her black hair, to her fair skin, to her cloudy golden eyes, then back up to her hair.

Near the large bed I slept on, one that I'd never be able to afford in real life, but would cause me to drool when it popped up in ads, is a nightstand holding a bell. By ringing it, a maid enters my room, different from to one who brought my food.

"Yes, miss?"

"I want to walk around." I state, bored of staying in this room, pitying myself.

"Alright. . . —she looks back at the doorway nervously— . . . We will prepare you right away."

The maid calls in others, each doing their part to ready me for the day. The room is stuffy and silent as I'm prepared, making my enjoyment for the luxury difficult.

"Please show me outside, and from then on I'll walk alone." I say, not missing the eye rolls and looks of irritation from a few of the maids in the back.

The first maid nods, bringing me out of the room and through the beautiful mansion.

My eyes widen at the sight of each window frame with intricate design. Portraits and paintings scatter neatly throughout the halls. On the ceiling, which can't be less than 12 feet high, are chandeliers hung as if they were just lanterns.

"What are you doing out here?" I hear a grating voice behind me.