Ayla felt uneasy. The silence in the room felt heavier than the air itself. Even the light seemed different here, softer, hesitant, as if it didn’t trust her yet. She hadn’t moved in hours. Not because she couldn’t, but because she no longer knew who she was supposed to be. She blinked once. Then twice. Then again, and again. Still not her world. Her thoughts barely had time to settle before the door to her room slammed open, forcing her upright. A boy with chestnut brown hair stood in the doorway, a fierce expression carved into his face. His narrow eyes glared daggers at Ayla, at Ievy. He froze when he realized she was still sitting in bed. Ievy studied him closely. Flashy noble attire, a sword at his side, a sharp jawline, and darkened eyes she would have recognize any where.

  This was Austin. Austin Elkins of the Elkins duke house, the same Austin from the novel she’d read in her past life. Questions swirled in her mind. How? When? Why was she inside the story she’d only ever read? But why was she here? That the one thought that kept digging deeper into her mind. She knew how Lady Ievy’s story had unfolded in the original novel. The duke had forced her into a marriage with an aging noble from a distant kingdom, a decision that drained her hope long before the journey even began. By the time the carriage reached its destination, Ievy was gone, her spirit already severed from a life that had offered her nothing but cruelty.

  When the old noble discovered her, the shock shattered whatever pride or arrogance he had carried. The scene left a mark on him so deep that he never recovered from it, haunted by the consequences of a union he had tried to force. It was a punishment he deserved, a weight he would carry for the rest of his days.

  But the part that haunted Ievy most wasn’t the journey or the noble’s reaction. It was what came after. Her spirit had drifted back to the Elkins estate, desperate for one last glimpse of the family she had loved despite everything. What she found instead was the Duke and Duchess grinning, hands overflowing with gold, the price of her betrayal. In that moment, she understood she had never been a daughter, only a pawn to be sold. And then her story had ended, leaving nothing behind but despair.

  But even before her death the Elkins family wasn’t the best.

  At just five years old, Ievy was discovered in the slums by the Duke of House Elkins. Orphaned after disease, claimed her patent, she believed she had finally found a family. But as she grew, that hope turned to cruelty.

  The Duchess had sought to mold Ievy into the “perfect” adopted daughter, lacing every lesson with harsh words and scorn. Her brothers followed suit, mocking and belittling her every turn. The Duke, broken by financial ruin and drowning in drinks, became the worst of all, his rage, often spilling onto Ievy. Once, in a drunken fury, he nearly killed her, stopped only by the Duchess, who reminded him that the girl might one day be useful.

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  When Ievy turned eighteen, that usefulness finally revealed itself. The Elkins forced her into a marriage with that old man, and that was when her tragic death began. The death of the so?called villainess her family made her out to be.

  At first Ayla thought she would finally rest, but now she was in the same stupid place. A useless father, stupid brothers, and a mother who was better off dead anyway. But there was nothing she could do. She could try going back to sleep, but she had already tried pinching herself awake. That didn’t help, and she was still stuck in the body of Lady Ievy.

  Austin called out to her, “Why are you still not up, you mutt.”

  The insult snapped Ievy out of her thoughts. The confused look on her face made Austin take a step back. She didn’t answer him. She just stared, completely still, like a statue. It creeped him out more than he wanted to admit. Usually, Ievy looked at him with that fake happiness she always forced. And Austin knew it was fake. Who could possibly be happy with the way his family treated her?

  Inside, Ayla’s thoughts were racing. Mutt? Seriously? If this brat tried that in her old world, she would’ve broken his nose. But she swallowed the impulse. She needed to understand this place before she made any moves. So, she just stared, letting the silence choke him instead. A flicker of fear, confusion, and irritation passed over Austin’s face. “What’s wrong with you?” he muttered, his voice losing the sharp edge he always used on her. She still didn’t answer. Her silence pressed against him harder than any word could. For the first time, Austin looked away.

  Finally, she blinked. Slowly. “I didn’t hear you,” she said, her voice flat and empty. Austin stiffened. That wasn’t how she talked. Not to him. Not to any of them. “What’s with that tone?” he snapped, but there was a crack in his voice he couldn’t hide. He cleared his throat, trying to recover whatever authority he thought he had. “Get dressed. Father wants you downstairs.” His voice wavered. He hated that she noticed.

  She pushed the blanket aside and stood up, her movements calm and controlled, nothing like the timid girl he was used to. Austin instinctively stepped back again. “Get out,” she said quietly. He did. Without thinking.

  Ayla finally understood that the name Ayla belonged to another world. In this world she was Ievy, Lady Ievy Elkins, and it was time she started acting like her. If they found out she wasn’t Ievy, they would probably think she was some kind of witch.

  Ievy called for a maid and asked her to get her ready to meet her father. The maid was fast and returned with a big, gorgeous dress. It was navy blue that faded into black like the midnight sky, with beautiful gold trim and a black choker with a dark grey gem locked onto it. The dress came with a black headband.

  The maid helped her step into the gown, tightening the corset until Ievy could feel her posture straighten on its own. Layers of fabric settled around her legs, heavy but elegant, brushing the floor like a dark waterfall. The gold trim caught the light every time she moved, making the dress look alive, almost breathing with her.

  The choker was cool against her skin as the maid fastened it, the gem resting perfectly at the base of her throat. She added the headband last, smoothing Ievy’s hair back with careful hands.

  After the maid finished preparing for her, Ievy looked in the mirror. Her long golden?blonde hair flowed elegantly in soft waves down her body, and with the dramatic dress, she looked like a princess. Not the weak, timid girl the Elkins expected. Someone new. Someone dangerous.