In the World of 'His Amour'

 I got up in a ragged gasp, making a coughing fit tear through my chest until it ached. Each breath scraped raw against my throat, sharp and dry, but eventually the spasms eased. I lay still for a moment, clutching the sheets, forcing myself to breathe slowly until the dizziness faded.

When I finally opened my eyes, I realized something was wrong. There wasn’t a heart monitor attached to me. And there wasn’t any other medical equipment nearby. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t on a hospital bed, or surrounded by any dreary white walls. They were uneven stone walls decorated with tapestry and paintings. And the bed under me was those you see in luxury hotels with soft sheets… Something was off.

The lighting wasn’t some fluorescent LED either. It was a gentle glow that seemed to have an ethereal feeling to it. I walked over carefully, holding onto the furniture to get a good look at it. A small sphere of light, and a touch made my finger phase through it. What the-?

When I looked in the mirror next to it, my eyes widened. Light Pink hair, forest green eyes and pale skin. My mind was reeling at the reflection. No, no. Reincarnating into characters is something you only see in manga and anime. Stuff like that never happens in real life…

I heard the door creak open. A maid in a modest uniform and light brown hair that framed her sweet face came in with a soft humming, cheerful and steady. She was carrying a tray with a bowl of what looked to be soup and a glass of water. Her eyes darted to the bed, panic hitting her as she saw it empty, until we both made eye contact. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to freeze. The tray slipped from her hands and crashed to the floor, porcelain shattering against the stone pavement. She stumbled back, her face draining of color, but also a sense of excitement.

“Sh-she’s awake!” she gasped, and without another word, turned and bolted down the hall. “Master! Someone fetch the Master! The young miss is awake!”

I was left there gob smacked by the sudden situation. A maid? Master? Whose the master? I wasn’t left to guess for too long until a burly man in his mid-forties entered. His brown hair a tangled mess and his beard just as unkempt. His clothes looked straight out of a fantasy novel with how elegant and opulent it was.

“Rosaria? You’re awake… oh good heavens… Thank goodness,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

I froze hearing the name. Rosaria? As in, Rosaria Drewitt? Taking another good look at the bear-like man hugging me, I recognized him from the prints and art on Amor’s social media. This was Baron Drewitt. The one that protected Rosaria from Darren’s mother…

My stomach dropped. That wasn’t possible. He was a character… Fictional. So was Rosaria. Yet he was here, solid and real, and he had just called me by her name. I wanted to question if he was sure he had gotten the right person, but something in me told me that wouldn’t be a good call right now.

The Baron pulled back slightly, wiping off any tears that had fallen from his face that was brimming in joy. “Oh Rosaria. Your mother and I thought we had lost you after falling into the ocean. We almost tore the school down knowing that someone had shoved you off the boat while you were distracted.” he said. “How are you feeling dear? Do you need more rest? We can tell the school to give you more time off. I’ll have the maids bring you something more than just soup for today.”

My mind reeled. Fell into the ocean? That wasn’t me. That was Rosaria. And it didn’t happen in reality… It happened in ‘His Amour’, when she was helping Estel gather sea slugs for their potion. I remember that detail vividly since it was one of the first instances I had grown to dislike Historia in the novel.

My stomach twisted. This isn’t a coincidence. The stone walls. The glowing light. The man holding me, calling me ‘Rosaria.’ And now this... An event that only ever happened in a story. Slowly, horribly, the truth began to settle in…. I was inside ‘His Amour’.

Perhaps, under other circumstances, the thought might have thrilled me. To awaken inside a story? What reader hadn’t daydreamed of such a thing? But not this story. Not this role. Because I knew how Rosaria’s tale ended.

She lived long enough to watch Estel unravel, consumed by grief he could never release. She stood powerless as he threw away his future, unable to live in a world without Historia. And in the end, Rosaria bore the consequences-...branded the cursed queen, her name forever bound to sorrow.

My throat tightened. I wasn’t just in a story. I was in a tragedy. And now… I was its cursed heroine.

“Rosaria?” Baron Drewitt called out concern. “Maids, get the doctor. She's looking pale right now.”

The maids nodded as they ran to get the doctor, the Baron looking over me with concern as he led me back to sit down on the bed. “Just stay here sweetie. Your father’s getting the doctor for you. You’ll be okay.” he said, pressing a kiss on the top of my head.

Such a gentle warmth grounded me, and I felt so bad for him. He didn’t know that his precious Rosaria wasn't here anymore. It’s me, Rose Evergreen. Not Rosaria Drewitt… or rather.. Rosaria Romancio.

After a few days passed , the rest of the Drewitt family had been coming over to check up on me, as if I would fall into a coma again if they didn’t. I recognized each and every one of them. Harry the eldest son, Allen the second son, and Baroness Drewitt. They all came in with tears in their eyes as they saw me.

“Rosaria,” Harry said gently, kneeling slightly to meet my gaze. “Are you certain you feel strong enough to sit up? We should not have you strain yourself too soon.”

Allen stepped closer, his brow furrowed. “Perhaps the meals should remain light for a bit longer. A heavier course might unsettle her stomach. We mustn’t risk her health.”

Both the Baron and Baroness laughed at their son’s antics.

“Boys, enough. Your sister is far stronger than you give her credit for. You are both acting as if she’s broken every bone in her body.” the Baroness said.

Both brothers exhaled, almost in unison, though neither looked entirely convinced. Still, they each offered me a reassuring smile, their presence steady and protective. Seems like everyone in this family is really doting… A nice contrast to what my old life felt like… it's… nice..

Baroness Drewitt sat on the corner of the bed, a hand running over my head. “Oh Rose dear,” she said “To think you’re going to have to go back to the academy… I worry about you. You… aren’t being bullied, are you? This is the second time something drastic happens to you at the academy.”

I frowned. Bullied? Rosaria? Sure the scene of her falling off the boat was part of ‘His Amour’... but an instance before this? Even if this world was a mix of both stories, Historia never was actively hostile to Rosaria until she started getting closer to Estel.

I felt a cold shiver running down my spine. Something ominous. I put it past me, realizing that I hadn't said anything back to the Baroness in all my wandering. “I’m fine, mother. If there’s anything that gets me down, all of you will be the first to know!” It seemed I sounded convincing enough, seeing as they didn’t press on onwards.

It didn’t take long after thought to back at the gates of Nightfall Academy. Surprisingly, the Drewitt family had gotten their hands on a car for me to ride in comfortably, since they still thought I needed time to heal. It was a bit odd seeing a car that looked like something out of the black and white Noir movies Amanda, Sylvia and I used to watch back then. Looking back at the gates, however, it was a bit intimidating at first, seeing such long pointed beams on the metal gothic gate. But, as I walked further in, I was almost breath taken at how amazing the school was.

The academy was as tall as a cathedral, the ivy towers giving testament to the centuries it had endured with spires that could pierce anything above the clouds. The weathered stone arches with foliage trimmed neat enough to curl around its pillars, and the fractured glass windows that painted stories of previous time periods, and the heroes it aims to honor.

Excitement swelled in my chest, realizing this was the academy my beloved characters would come to learn and live most of their lives in the novel… and, the beginning of my time as the tragic heroine Rosaria.

I double checked my uniform before going to see the headmaster. A black uniform made with the finest of fabrics that’s weight was both cooling and warm, most likely due to the enchantment on it. A pleated black skirt under a comfortable military top and black combat boots. Since I was in the magical and scholar division, I had a white cape draped over my shoulders. Everything seemed pristine and well kept as I made my way towards the middle of the building’s tallest tower.

Passing by, students passed to and from the courtyards and hallways like shadows. Not a single sound could be heard from those that have been here longer, probably due to controlling the way they made a sound. Conversations hushed as I passed by, some looking at me, while others just stared. It made sense, given the fact that Rosaria probably accused Historia of being the one pushing her. She did just that in ‘His Amour’ when their falling out started. And, considering that everyone knew Historia as a good person, no one believed her.

I walked up the steps to the enchanted stone in the middle of the tower, touching the Gemstone held by a pedestal as the stone lifted off the ground like an elevator. I had to mentally prepare myself. The headmaster will probably scold me just as he did in the novel. He was one of the few that knew Historia was a bit different than all the rest.

I watched as the ivy stones passed by in speed, until the stones came to a halt at the top of the tower. I stepped off and made my way to the elegant pair of mahogany wooden doors. The lighting up here was a bit more warmer, and yet, the chill knowing I would be interrogated made it seem almost insulting.

With a breath, I opened the doors, steeling myself for my first act as Rosaria.