The Villainess With White Roses

Chapter 1 - A Stranger In A Stranger World

—-
ANDRELISE

Luck is a peculiar thing; it seems to elude me while others attract it like magnets. Me? I attract chaos. Every. Single. Freaking. Time.

I clung to that thought like a lifeline as my father—the honorable and terrifying Marquess—delivered yet another lecture on my disgraceful behavior.

"Do you even realize the disgrace you've brought upon this house, you stupid foolish girl?" His voice echoed through the opulent study, each word precise and sharp. I barely noticed the golden light glinting off his polished desk; my attention was consumed by the sheer frustration etched on his dark brows, which danced in a way that was oddly entertaining.

I stood there, hands clasped neatly in front of me, appearing every bit the contrite young lady of noble birth—a perfect picture of submission. Calm, silent, unresponsive. My cheeks painful from the slap he gave me not less than two minutes ago.

But let's be honest: compared to getting hit by a truck in my past life, this was merely an inconvenience.

The Marquess leaned in closer, eyes narrowing. "You think this is a game, ungrateful child? This is the second time you've embarrassed me in a fortnight!"

Four days. That's how long I'd been here. Four painfully long days in the body of Andrelise Castiglivon, the most despised noblewoman in the empire, also known as "The Viper of Castiglivon"—among other lovely titles she had so generously acquired. And now I was getting blamed for something the original Andrelise had done just before I stumbled into this mess.

I didn't dare talk back. Both because I was afraid of the Marquess will strike me more and I wasn't dumb enough to dig the hole deeper. The man detested interruptions, and Andrelise—well, the previous Andrelise—had made a hobby out of riling him up. If I so much as breathed the wrong way, I'd receive a something worst than a slap.

It's better to stay quiet, like a puppet.

"Go to your room, you are on probation. " he snapped at last, waving me off like I was an annoying fly. "And stay out of my sight until you learn how to conduct yourself properly."

I offered a quick curtsy, just enough to be polite but not so much that it looked like I was trying too hard. Then I turned on my heel and headed to my chambers, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning in annoyance.

The door to my room clicked shut behind me, and I finally let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Well, that went better than expected." I flopped down on the velvet armchair by the window, tugging off my shoes.

"At least no blood was shed this time, lucky me."

Sitting there, I let my thoughts drift back to how exactly I ended up here. Because four days ago, I was Rina, just your average 21st-century girl—well, average in that clumsy, unfortunate way where nothing ever really goes right.

How did I end up in this mess? Well, just before my demise in my old life—something about a truck, a distracted phone call, and a sudden unfortunate intersection.

I had been juggling my way through life like a poorly trained chaos performer, occasionally managing to avoid disaster but more often than not, landing flat on my face.

Before I could even grasp what had happened—before I could make sense of the fact that I'd just been hit by a truck—I woke up somewhere unfamiliar.

Not in a hospital. Not on a stretcher with paramedics rushing around me. No flashing lights, no scent of antiseptic, no comforting chaos of modern life.

I woke up but not in some magical afterlife, though. No fluffy clouds or angel choirs.

Instead, I woke up in silk sheets.