Day 1 // An Early Morning

—To the beginning of your forever!

"What the hell?!"

She paused, a cold sweat crawling down her neck as realization struck her—Hard.

Oh god, she was really in trouble. Head in her hands, Cecilia wanted to scream. She was already trying to console herself with the most delusional cope in fiction.

“I’ve officially snapped," she muttered. "I shouldn’t have mixed those 48-Hour Mocktails together, I’ve finally lost it—"

There is no need to be shy! I am your greatest guide and most invested partner—I am your story's narrator! As you strive for steamy romance and social hierarchy, I will be your guide through your every instance of wistful pining and desperate longing.

She blinked, hard, taking a couple of seconds for her brain to catch up with what she had just heard. "I'm sorry," Cecilia said, her tone bordering on more of a warning or a dare than any sort of genuine apology. "I'll be striving for what?"

You have become a reincarnation, so to speak, from your old world. This is a chance anew to live a life of magic, passion, and opportunities limited to your own courage! And that life begins now, in power, in grace, in the gorgeous sprawl of the Sisyphus Manor, as the beautiful, illustrious…

The chirpy, ominous voice tapered off with a downward lilt, implying a confusion of their own.

It certainly did not put Cecilia at ease, and her eyebrows furrowed with impatient concern.

Um, okay, let us try this again—Your life begins now as the beautiful, illustrious...maid?

It really was amazing how a heart can sit frozen still and beat in erratic terror at the same time.

What the hell? What the hell! What the actual, literal Victorian dark romance hell?!

It should be illegal how much contrast there was between the serene peace of the dawning morn and the frantic rabidness with which Cecilia was pinching her arms and throwing open the nightstand's drawers. There was not much payoff to her snooping, as she discovered nothing but a change of nightclothes, folded with military precision, and a nondescript book. Its binding was composed of a worn, well-loved leather with a gold sigil burned into its front cover. It was reminiscent of Catholicism's symbol of the cross, though its arms were shorter, making it functionally more akin to a standard plus sign if not for the reverence in its composition. Fluttering about the cross's arms were two nondescript birds, perhaps meant to be doves or some other peaceful avian, both in unison swaddling the cross loosely in a smooth strip of fabric.

Oh my, look at you go, Cecilia! You are already striving to learn about your new living quarters? Perhaps even exploring the local culture, picking up on clues and antiques? Lovely! 

A vein in her forehead started throbbing harder, threatening to pop as she cracked the book open.

It was gibberish, pure and nonsensical bunk, or at least they were as good as gibberish to her. The language in which these pages were written was none she have ever seen in all the books and manuscripts she had peered through. The symbols were unrecognizable, no matter how much she leafed through, regardless of how the pages flicked faster and faster back and forth in her haste. Her fingers moved all the more quickly in frustrated desperation, for any sign of familiarity.

And none was present.

I admire your display of tenacity; your excitement palpable, not to mention engaging!

Cecilia willed that her teeth's enamel turned to cement to keep her tongue caged. She imagined nothing that leaves it at this moment would be particularly pleasant.

Instead, she tossed the book back in its drawer, letting it close with a sharp thud before she crouched down to the dusty floor next.

Now, that is...Quite unnecessary, don't you think? You are just dirtying yourself, and there is already so much for you to do, to explore!

Her nose wrinkled in disdain as she peered under the bed, only seeing a collection of neatly stacked quilts, sheets, and dust bunnies. Well, there were also the two cracked part of her candlestick. She grabbed those, assuming they would be necessary for later when light was not so available.

You do not seem to be entirely adjusted yet.

"Congratulations, oh great Disembodied Matchmaking Voice," she snapped, bumping her head against a plank of the bed frame's undercarriage. "You really nailed the current mood."

The voice went quiet. The stretching silence made her annoyance dull into a nagging sense of regret instead. Once she crawled back from underneath the bed, she pushed long strands of black hair from her face, tugging at her scalp. Gently wiping grime and dust particles from her glasses' lenses with a corner of the bed's quilt, she released a deep sigh, trying to breathe out some of the whirling frustrations caught in my lungs. "I'm sorry," she said, forcing calmness as much as she could. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

Interesting, considering that was the verb used to describe how you said it.

Great, the voice knows sarcasm.

Cecilia bit the flesh of her cheek, taking another deep breath before speaking again. "I'm just feeling...overwhelmed right now. This is a lot to take in, and I just need to get my bearings right now. I can worry about this 'romance subplot' later."

Oh, the romance is no subplot, stated the voice. Their tone was strangely cheery, as if it was meant to be reassuring. It is the plot—Your plot!

And we were back to square one...

"Okay, pause, just for a moment," she pleaded. "Can I..." A short, grounding breath. "Could you at least tell me your name? Something to call you by? Disembodied voice?"

I do not require a name, so please do not worry about that. I am merely your narrator, your storytelling lead!

Cecilia's finger tapped against her temple. "Alright, then I'll just give you one."

That doesn't seem right—

"DMV."

I beg your pardon?

She could practically hear the quirked eyebrow.

"Disembodied Matchmaking Voice. DMV. It seems fitting."

And they can both be equally annoying, as much as they seem to be necessary.

Another pause, soon broken by a relenting, Very well. It can persist for now.

"Great, that's one thing settled at least—"

"Excuse me?" A soft voice, barely above a murmur, made Cecilia back snap straight as a ruler, brought back to the current reality outside of an ominously romantic voice in her head. "Miss?"

Oh my, oh my! DMV's excitement returned, clear and poignant in their voice. Your adventure finally, officially takes wing!