Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – It’s so hard to change the original like everyone else

I died in a plane crash.

And when I opened my eyes again, I had become Evangeline Clauda, an extra from the romance fantasy novel “Nights of Ihaya.”

Actually, I didn’t realize at the beginning that this was “Nights of Ihaya.” How many novels does a person read in a lifetime? Am I supposed to remember every single extra’s name?

Then, not long after recovering from the shock of transmigration, I heard the names of the male protagonist and the mastermind villain, and I became certain that I had transmigrated into that novel.

I wasn’t just any character—I was the mastermind’s wife, an extra who seemed fine through every act until the climax revealed his true nature, and I ended up stabbed by the heroine like an expendable extra.

Ha, an extra. Good grief… Not even a villainess or anything else, just an extra.

An extra who was only mentioned in the text as “So-and-so’s wife, So-and-so smiled gently.”

The one saving grace was that Evangeline was so breathtaking, it would’ve been a crime if she didn’t topple at least three kingdoms.

To what extent? Enough that I questioned why the author didn’t make such a beautiful character the main character.

However, born as the daughter of nouveau riche with a frail and pitiful body, Evangeline was so weak that until age 15, she could count on her fingers the times she had left her bed.

A sickly, pure, and pitiable beauty. Then she marries a duke—I thought it was going to be a typical romantic cliché, but she ended up in the wrong genre and ended up dying a tragic death…

It was quite a tragic fate. Though she only appeared for exactly two lines in the novel.

Despite all the obvious death flags, I honestly held onto hope right up until the moment of transmigration.

The mastermind’s fiancée? An extra’s scheduled death? Well—isn’t this type of transmigration something I’ve seen plenty of?

Besides, honestly, isn’t that the trend these days?

Transmigrated as a background extra, only to realize I might be the protagonist—well, sort of. No, definitely the protagonist.

In that sense, I was convinced the original story had fall apart the moment I transmigrated, and I believed that with just a bit of effort, I could rewrite history and build a romance fantasy harem of my own.

This wasn’t me being over the top. Hand on my heart, if someone transmigrated into a novel and their first thought was “Oh, I’m a supporting character,” well, I wasn’t that someone.

As soon as I realized I had transmigrated, what I did was none other than prepare for marriage.

In the story, Evangeline was the wife of Duke Florence, the mastermind, and her death came about precisely because she was the duke’s wife. So I just had to avoid marrying the duke.

When I transmigrated, Evangeline was 15 years old, and after some investigation, the crown prince was 20. Since the crown prince held his 25th birthday party at the beginning of the original story, I still had 5 years.

Of course, since I didn’t know when Evangeline and the duke’s marriage would take place, since things seemed shaky, I made an effort to marry another person first. Someone respectable, if possible, and a contract marriage that turns into a happy one would be perfect.

So the day after I made up my mind, I told my father:

“Father, I want to get married.”

“Yes, our Eve deserves the best man. We need to make some connections with noble families too… How about Duke Florence? A person like Eve would have no trouble conquering that stage..”

What? I’m trying to get married because I don’t want to meet that guy.

Of course I refused, and I asked my father to look for someone else besides that person.

But somehow, all the marriage proposals my father brought after that were nobles who were either morally corrupt or had previous marriage experience, and it was then that I realized my father was only thinking of connecting me with noble families.

So I set out to find a groom myself. It didn’t matter to me if he was an extra, and honestly, it’d be great if he were the male protagonist. You, female lead, are beautiful and competent enough to manage on your own.

It was the pinnacle of selfishness, but my life was more important. With determination burning in my eyes, I hunted for groom candidates, and my father, desperate to launch me into noble society, threw his full support behind my debut.

Actually, I had considered marrying a commoner quietly, but somehow I felt my father wouldn’t allow that.

Getting kicked out of the house wasn’t scary, but still, how much inheritance was I going to receive? Why would I do such a thing?

Anyway, as a result of consistently showing my face in social circles, I was soon able to make connections with the crown prince.

Wow, easy. Is this because my beauty is amazing, or because my father’s wealth is amazing?

Either way, it was good for me.

I easily approached the crown prince and was also able to meet the second prince, who would later fall in love with the female protagonist. Thus, firmly believing in my charm as a transmigrated woman, I clung to them, worked hard to build my narrative in my own way, and finally succeeded in seducing them—

“Your Highness the Crown Prince. Please marry me.”

“Lady Clauda. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

—what success? I was gloriously rejected. Right in the center of a party where all kinds of nobles were watching.

My thinking was short-sighted. Having never dated, I couldn’t distinguish whether this was flirting or just courtesy.

That day, I finally learned what it meant for tears to come from embarrassment.

Praised for a beauty that could dominate society, if not for my bloodline, I made a loud confession before more than a hundred nobles… only to be turned down.

Ah, so shameful, really.

Even after that confession ended, I was branded as “a woman who doesn’t know her place, who relied only on her decent face and figure as the daughter of nouveau riche to throw herself at the crown prince and get thoroughly humiliated.”

Whenever I went to social gatherings, people whispered while looking at me, and some even glanced at my chest while muttering things like “She probably thinks taking it off solves everything. Such a vulgar woman.”

Eventually, after confessing to the crown prince and being rejected, I decided to stay as far away as possible from the center where the original story’s events unfold.

If marrying someone else isn’t an option, then choosing not to marry at all is only natural. Honestly, I was never one to believe in marriage in my past life, so my hopes for a fairy tale now must be nothing but a silly dream brought on by transmigration.

So I swept up all the wealth in the house and attempted to run away, leaving behind just one note saying “Father, Mother. This young lady will cut ties with the secular world and serve God,” and the result—

“Tell me, Eve. Why exactly did you leave home?”

“……”

“If you’re too embarrassed about the matter with His Highness the Crown Prince, there’s no need for that. Father will find you a better marriage prospect. How about Duke Florence that I mentioned before?”

“……”

“That man is more handsome than the crown prince. He’ll be your type.”

I was caught and brought back home after just 3 days of running away.

It’s all so hopeless now. Is this God’s command to wed the duke, or just a revelation that I’m meant to meet my death?

I remained silent to my father’s questions and just sat quietly. Eventually, unable to hear the reason for running away from me, my father concluded on his own that I did it purely out of embarrassment.

And I lay in bed for almost a week thinking.

What went wrong? How exactly can I avoid marrying the duke?

It’s not like I hadn’t thought about how to change Duke Florence after we got married.

But my mother from my previous life, who had fallen for my father’s “Hey, you!” when he was a nouveau riche man and spent the rest of her life removing her husband’s other women, had said:

“Men aren’t meant to be fixed and reused.”

Therefore, I didn’t want to make such a gamble, nor did I feel the need to.

Anyway, as days passed like that, I half-gave up and just waited for the original story events to approach. When the time comes, if there’s any occasion to meet the duke, I’ll avoid it all. If I just avoid the mastermind, somehow things will work out.

And 4.5 years after transmigration, half a year before entering the original story.

I couldn’t help but jump up at my father’s words that he had arranged an appointment with Duke Florence.

“What? What are you talking about?”

I was putting shrimp in my mouth when I asked in bewilderment, unable to control the food flying out of my mouth.

But my father looked at me very calmly and answered:

“I’m going to introduce you to Duke Florence.”

“Why, why?”

“What other reason would there be for introducing a man and woman?”

There should be. Naturally, there should be. After all, love isn’t the only connection between men and women!

I couldn’t help but cry out inwardly. But my inner cries didn’t work on my father at all, and eventually he threw me the words “The appointment is set for next week, so take proper care of your skin” and finished his meal.

After returning to my room, the maid made a fuss seeing me in despair.

“Miss, this is really, really fortunate. If you marry His Grace the Duke, Miss will become a duchess too!”

Is becoming some duchess really the problem now? I’m about to die here!

“Miss, aren’t you happy?”

I sighed deeply. Should I really attempt an assassination? Do I really have to kill someone else to live? I don’t want to do that… As I was racking my brain, I clicked my tongue and called the maid.

“Aida.”

“Yes!”

At my call, Aida nodded. Looking at her, I gave a long sigh and opened my mouth.

“I have a favor to ask.”

“Just tell me.”

“From now on, bring me everything Duke Florence likes and dislikes.”

Let me figure out his preferences first.

Running away was useless anyway. My father was as well-connected as he was wealthy, so he would find all my destinations.

Nor was it realistic to grab someone else and marry them. A few years ago maybe, but now it was impossible. If I had known this would happen, I should have married an ordinary person back then and gotten kicked out of the house!

I blamed my ignorance, but it was useless. For now, somehow getting through this situation was important.

I could tell Aida was far too pleased by what I said. She clearly thought I was asking about the duke’s preferences to win his favor.

The genre attempted to transform from “transmigrated woman” to “survival story.”

Soon, as Aida left the room, I headed alone to the kitchen. While the kitchen staff buzzed at my sudden appearance, the head cook quickly bowed.

“Miss, is there something you’re looking for?”

I smiled broadly and opened my mouth.

“I need ice, can you give me some?”

“Pardon? Ice?”

In a world without refrigerators, ice is quite a precious commodity. But the Clauda family was at least not a household that struggled to afford ice.

I could feel the head cook’s bewilderment at “Evangeline’s” sudden request, someone who had never touched anything cold due to her weak constitution her whole life, but I put on the most sorrowful expression I could, using my pure and pitiful looks to full effect.

Then the head cook quickly brought me a cup of ice.

“Is this enough?”

“No.”

I looked at the four pieces of ice in the cup and shook my head firmly.

“Um… it’s not good for you to have too much cold stuff.”

“I won’t eat it. So give it to me.”

Soon, unable to overcome my stubbornness, the head cook brought me a whole basin of ice. Receiving it, I couldn’t help but grin with happiness.

After returning to my room, I took a long deep breath. The maid who would stop me had gone out, and now it was my time alone.

I quickly went to the bathtub, filled the basin with cold water, and poured ice into it with a splash.

And—

“For the flu, an ice water shower is the best.”

Splaaash.

I attempted a sudden ice water shower.

* * *

Bang!

“Eve, what is this about!”

The door opened and my father and mother rushed in. Even in my high fever, I couldn’t help but laugh inwardly seeing his distorted face.

I won’t let you treat your daughter like a business deal.

“Ah, Father.”

But whatever my inner thoughts, I was a pitiful daughter. The beautiful Evangeline who had been extremely frail since childhood.

“Eve, are you alright?”

“Sob, Father. I’m sorry.”

I looked at my father with teary eyes and lamented. I could see my mother standing beside him sighing deeply.

But what could I do? It wasn’t just a cold but the flu. I was only holding it together because I wanted to see my father’s twisted expression, but honestly, the world still feels like it’s spinning.

My father stared at me, then hardened his face and opened his mouth.

“Next week’s appointment with the duke…”

“Ah, Father. Don’t worry. Even if I have to crawl… cough!”

I coughed with an expression as if I would immediately cough up blood and collapse. Ah, there really is a suspicious scent in the air. At least for now, Evangeline’s frail body comes in handy.

My father, who had been staring at me coughing, gave a long sigh.

I closed my eyes tightly and let a single tear fall from the corner of my eye.

“I’m sorry, Father. For being such a useless daughter…”

Useless indeed. A daughter isn’t some tool, and since when was it a rule that she needs to be useful?

My mother looked at me and shed tears. Though she couldn’t say anything under my father’s pressure, she was someone who loved her daughter in her own way, so this sight of me would be pitiful.

Eventually, my father said in a slightly disappointed voice:

“I’ll cancel this appointment.”

Oh yeah.

I allowed myself a subtle, inward smile. My father, clueless about what was going through my mind, left with a worried look.

* * *

It must have been a nasty flu, keeping me down for almost three weeks straight. At one point, I genuinely feared it might be the end, but thankfully, it wasn’t.

If it had, I probably would have died of injustice. I did this to avoid dying, but ended up dying because of this.

Anyway, after about three weeks, I got up again. My father just told me to take good care of my health.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I was relieved. From observing my father these past few years, his obsession with nobility had already exceeded the limits I knew.

As if proving this, about a month later, sure enough, my father called for me again.

“Miss. The master is calling for you.”

I was fiddling with newly purchased cosmetics in front of the vanity when I realized the inevitable had arrived. My father’s “go on a blind date” attack was about to begin again.

But since I had already anticipated his attack pattern, I got up from my seat very calmly. I had prepared something for this day. 

“Miss. You should dress up prettily before going out.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because Duke Florence is here.”

……?