A bell tolling in the distance mixed with the cool breeze fluttering in from the half-opened window to wake Wyatt from a deep sleep. Her hands probed her surroundings as she opened her eyes.
The sheets had changed: white and silky, rather than the charred mess Wyatt had been in before.
The room was different too: dark blue wallpaper etched with black swirls; a narrow doorway led to a bathroom. Wyatt raked her hand through her hair and got out of bed. She had given up on the book after the character bearing her name tried to seduce the second prince at the princess's birthday party and was imprisoned. She had no idea how it ended, but overall thought the book was worth no more than one star.
Unluckily enough, that book was now her life.
Sighing, Wyatt pinched the bridge of her nose and then went to the bathroom. The tub had a faucet with running water, which was a good start.
She lowered herself into the warm water, allowing her body to relax. One thing she was grateful for, at least for the moment, was that she didn't have to worry about the monsters outside the manor. They were too far to hurt her, unlike her past life, where every day was spent on edge.
*
Standing on a black mat, Wyatt dried her body with a towel from a nearby rack. In the bedroom, she found some pants and a shirt with frills running down the centre, which she changed into.
The door opened without warning, revealing the original body's father. A man of medium height, ruddy skin, and short grey hair. As unattractive as he was, he was lucky his children got their beauty from his partners.
The marquess had gained some weight after retiring from the military. His belly pressed against his black shirt. His once regal-looking red jacket had been left open to allow his abdomen to breathe, but it was tight around the arms.
Wyatt's boyish form, under the manipulation of the ring, was tall and lean with the faintest impression of a six pack that deepened when she breathed in. She hadn't finished buttoning up her shirt, revealing the pale, pinkish skin of her chest to those who had arrived. Her father's face darkened, and behind him stood Grant, whose eyes glazed with lust one second, and then turned cold the next.
Rather than waiting to upset them and get kicked out, Wyatt got the feeling it was better to leave sooner rather than later.
"You have the nerve to tempt your own family?" The old man asked, his hand on the handle of the sword at his waist.
"Don't get your panties in a twist after barging in unannounced. What state of readiness I'm in has nothing to do with my desire to tempt you."
The marquees spat. "Since you are so good at seducing men, maybe I should sell you to the whore house so you can get a taste of how your mother lived."
"Says more about the type of man you are than me. You really can stuff it into anything." Whether it was this life or the past, one of the few things Wyatt was good at was riling people up.
The marquess said, "I originally came to congratulate you on your advancement and let you know that you'll be joining the grand duke's army on behalf of our family. Whatever achievements you have will be tied to your inheritance. But now I see you need some discipline, which I'll leave your brother to attend to." He nodded to Grant and left, locking the door behind him.
Grant rolled up his sleeves and removed his belt. "Kneel." His command brought an immense chill to the room.
The air became thick and heavy. Wyatt's fingers twitched, and a million scenarios passed through her mind. But she knew she had merely advanced from rank one, which was pitiable, to rank two or three. There was no mention of this in the book, but Wyatt was only a side character, so her growth or lack of wasn't the author's focus.
At rank five, Grant could kill a hundred people with his flames. Wyatt had no advantage.
"Brother," Wyatt began, raising her hands as she surrendered. "Must we target each other like this? I have no intention of stealing your position."
"Kneel," repeated Grant.
Wyatt retreated to the window. "Alright, let's do it your way." She crawled through the opening and dropped lightly on the grass on the other side. A staggered collection of knights wearing bronze cloaks speckled the land. A ring of bushes bordered the perimeter, giving way to the woods that shrouded the manor.
Wyatt ran towards the trees.
Shortly after taking off, she heard the rough breathing of Grant behind her. He called out to the guards around him, "Capture him!"
The clink of metal against metal followed Wyatt as she made it past the first line of trees. Her unshod feet left light prints in the earth as she sprinted while dodging the surrounding trees. She listened as the men spread in different directions, planning to encircle and entrap her.
Wyatt slowed in front of a large tree and began to climb up its tangled mass of branches. Dust and tiny insects fell on her face as she forged ahead and ignored the urge to brush them off. She perched at the top as the men closed in on her.
There had been a scene similar to this in Wyatt's past life, when she had stolen a gold coin from one of the rival teams. As she tried to escape, she was encircled on the street by a group of people wearing masks and guns. Their commotion drew the attention of zombies hiding in a nearby deserted building. When the zombies attacked, Wyatt's pursuers turned to face them, but Wyatt escaped. Feeling something heavy in her pocket, Wyatt reached into it and took out the familiar gold coin with a face similar to the one she had now.
Back then, she had found the picture handsome but thought it was something from an older era. Who would have imagined it would connect her to some dumb romance book?
Grant stood at the base of the tree as Wyatt put the coin back in her pocket. "Come down, or I'll set you on fire. Do you think your flames are stronger than mine after one little advancement?" He held out his palm, and a flickering white flame appeared above it.
Wyatt swallowed and slowly climbed down the tree. When Wyatt's bare feet touched the ground, Grant pinned her to the tree by the throat and whipped her with his belt. The iron tip sliced open Wyatt's skin, drawing blood. She made no sound and gritted her teeth as she waited for the punishment to end.
*