“Attention! Bow to the teacher!”
“Thank you again today!”
The children, lined up neatly in rows, bowed deeply in unison.
It’s already been nearly two years, but I still can’t get used to those rainbow-colored heads.
I stood by the entrance, giving each child a high five as they left the dojo.
“Shion! Be on time tomorrow!”
“Yes, Master!”
“Chase, please stop fighting with your little brother, okay?”
“Understood, Master.”
“Sky, no more whining about your side dishes. Eat everything evenly.”
“Yes, Master!! I won’t leave a bite!”
“Good. Then I’ll see you all tomorrow! Those of you going back to the dorms, don’t forget to tidy up! And if you’re heading home, watch for carriages and look both ways! Take care!”
Watch for carriages?
Sometimes I say things that make me laugh at myself—and today was one of those days. I chuckled softly, peeking out the small window to watch the carriage full of kids safely depart.
With the boys’ class over, my day was done too. Of course, my work isn’t truly finished until the carriage returns safely, but with the ever-dependable Jeron and meticulous Liz escorting the children, I didn’t worry much.
I grabbed a mop, wrung out the water with my foot, and gave the dojo a thorough cleaning. Then I picked up the keys and stepped outside.
The recently installed magic lamp, which cost quite a sum, brightly lit up the quaint little sign above the entrance.
[DIA Martial Arts Academy]
Maybe I should change the name. It sounds so childish…
I picked it in a hurry when I was just starting out, but now that I think about it, it’s a little tacky. Still, changing it when enrollment is on the rise might not be a great idea. As my thoughts wandered, I realized I had already arrived home.
A three-story mansion with a small yard.
My only sanctuary—and my refuge that doesn’t interfere with the original plot.
“I’ve made it pretty far, haven’t I? Still have my head on, too.”
Thinking of the original story’s brutal ending gave me goosebumps, and I rubbed my arms before putting away my sweat-soaked uniform. Things in the capital should still be unfolding according to the original novel. I haven’t heard anything from Marquis Lewendiff, so I should be in the clear for now.
Hunger struck me suddenly, and as I bit into a freshly polished apple Liz had prepared, I flipped through the mail on the table, reminiscing.
“I do kind of miss seeing my favorite, Killian… No, no. It’s fine. Adele’s with him—they’re probably leaning on each other and doing well.”
As a hardcore fan of the original novel, The Flower That Bloomed Beneath the Moonlight, what mattered most to me was the happy ending of the two main leads, Killian and Adele. Losing sight of them was a small price to pay. I had spent ten years watching them every day since I was seven—my eyes practically turned mushy.
“I can always catch a glimpse of them from afar. Or just look at my scrapbook if I get desperate.”
Even this remote village’s newspaper occasionally featured portraits of Killian and Adele, now celebrated as heroes of the empire. My scrapbook, where I carefully collected all their articles, is my most prized possession. I treasure it so much I hardly dare open it.
“Speaking of which, maybe I’ll take a look.”
Feeling a mix of longing and excitement, I moved to retrieve the scrapbook when someone suddenly pounded on the door.
Who could it be at this hour?
In a small village like this, people usually call your name, not knock like that. Must be someone from outside… Could something have happened to the kids on their way home? Worried, I rushed to open the door.
Darkness.
I mean that literally. It was pitch black in front of me.
“Who… are you…?”
I had to crane my neck all the way back to see the tall man standing at the door. Caught off guard, my brain kicked into overdrive. Should I shut the door right now?
My mouth went dry, and my hand on the doorknob began to pale. Just then, the man pulled back his black hood.
“Ki… Killian?”
“I finally found you, Tia… after all this time.”
Why are you here?!
Before I could even exhale, Killian wrapped a strong arm around my waist and pulled me into his embrace. That familiar scent enveloped me.
It made my nose sting and my eyes burn with emotion.
*
Artificial birds chirping in the background.
Fast but careful footsteps padding across the carpet.
Crisp sheets rustling with every movement.
It all felt strange.
Was I dreaming?
I clearly remember cleaning the dojo late into the night and falling asleep while reading a webnovel…
“Princess, it’s time to wake up.”
…What?
Who changed my morning alarm?
“Princess, we don’t have much time. You really must get up now.”
The voice buzzed in my ears, flustering me.
“Remember? You asked to be woken early today because Lord Killian is coming.”
Killian? Lord Killian?
That name sounded so familiar…
“Princess Celestia? Are you listening?”
Celestia? Princess?
Are they talking to… me?
A chill shot down my spine, and I jolted upright in bed.
Before I could even rub my eyes, the sunlight pouring between the curtains was enough to disorient me. My place used to be a damp old villa with zero view—so what the hell was this?
A luxury hotel suite? Or maybe a high-end penthouse? Whatever it was, the lavish room before me didn’t fall short of either.
“There you are! Please come quickly. We don’t have time, Your Highness!”
Still bewildered, I let myself be dragged to the vanity table.
“Kyaaa!”
“Wh-What’s wrong, Your Highness?!”
“This, this is…!”
A little girl stared back at me in the mirror.
Most likely the Celestia Mond that the maid had addressed. Black hair, green eyes, skin glowing like it had been dusted with pearl powder.
The infamous villainess who, even at seven years old, had already been said to rule the empire with her beauty and bratty attitude.
“Your Highness? You’re scaring me. Are you okay?”
“My name is…”
“Celestia Mond, of course! What’s the matter?”
“My age…?”
“You just turned seven! Don’t you remember your birthday banquet? What a scene you made!”
“A scene…?”
“You demanded Lord Killian as a present! You shouted, ‘I want him! Give him to me!’ Don’t you remember that?”
“…Damn it.”
“Oh my goodness, Your Highness! Where did you learn such language? That’s a no-no, a big no-no!”
“…Sigh.”
I’m screwed.
Totally screwed.
The little hands folded neatly in my lap were unmistakably those of a seven-year-old child.
It seems I’ve been reincarnated into the world of my beloved novel, The Flower That Bloomed Beneath the Moonlight.
I owned all 339 chapters and reread it twenty-two times. I even stayed up for two weeks making a Killian tribute video that the author posted on their main SNS page. People debated whether I was a hardcore fan or just a crazed anti—but whatever.
Killian, the male lead of Moonflower, was my favorite of all time in my twelve-year history as a webnovel reader.
The problem? The character I’ve possessed—Celestia Mond—is the villainess who tormented Killian and his love interest, Adelaide.
In the original story, Celestia’s twisted obsession with Killian led her to abuse him, even resorting to a magical subjugation curse with his father, Duke Märchen. She eventually tried to poison Adele.
She wasn’t even real royalty, if I remember correctly. She died by Killian’s hand, spewing curses like “You’ll never forget the woman you killed with your own hands! Hahaha!”—the epitome of an irredeemable, insane villainess.
The good news is, the train to my hellish ending hasn’t left the station yet.
“Tell Lord Killian not to come.”
“…Pardon?”
“Tell him not to come. I changed my mind. I won’t ‘have’ him.”
“You begged for him just yesterday—Oh, I’m sorry!”
Sometimes my mouth says things before my brain catches up. But Liz was a good girl. She was the only one who stayed by Celestia’s—my—side to the end. A loyal maid, friend, and sister figure.
“Liz, quickly.”
“…Alright. Please wait here.”
Liz left, still confused by my sudden order, to fetch the attendants.
“So I really am Celestia Mond… That crazy witch who dared torment Killian?”
The memories of things both past and yet to come tangled in my head. I had once written a best-comment titled “Recruiting a Party to Beat Up Celestia (1/5,000)” and it hit 5,000 likes…
But now that I’m here, I can’t exactly kill myself, can I?
Well, at the very least, I could slap myself a few times.
By the time my face and hands were numb from the light but repeated blows, Liz returned.
“Oh my goodness! Your face!”
“Couldn’t wake up.”
“Still! You can’t just go slapping yourself like this!”
She rushed to the bathroom and came back with a soft towel soaked in cold water.
“What about Lord Killian?”
“Oh! Right!”
“You did tell him not to come, didn’t you?”
“Well… I was going to…”
Liz gave me an awkward smile.
“…He’s already here.”
“…What?”
“So… I couldn’t stop him.”
“Please get ready quickly, Your Highness.”
