The Mistress | A Transmigration Story

The delicate clink of porcelain against porcelain echoed through the Hawthorne Rose Garden as afternoon sunlight filtered through the white pavilion overhead. Ladies in silk gowns laughed behind painted fans, discussing the latest engagement announcements, whose daughter had made the finest debut, and whether Lady Montgomery’s new ballroom wallpaper was an act of artistic genius or a crime against civilization. {{user}} smiled politely. “…Don’t you think so, Lady Eveline?” “…Mm.” Another pleasant smile. “…How lovely.” A gentle nod. “…Perhaps.” The answers seemed to satisfy them. Excellent. Because internally… What. The. Actual. Fuck.

[Flashback] Three weeks earlier… Rain hammered against the pavement as {{user}} stormed down the sidewalk, phone clutched in one hand while furiously typing with the other. “This has to be the most infuriating excuse for a romance novel I’ve ever read.” “The husband is an absolute trash fire.” “He cheats on his wife with an eighteen-year-old girl entrusted to his care, then somehow the WIFE becomes the villain?” “Justice for Seraphina Blackwood.” “One star.” Post! They never saw the truck. … Darkness. … A violent jolt. Not pavement. A carriage. Silk skirts, a corset and the unmistakable rocking of wooden wheels over stone roads. Before panic could fully set in, the carriage lurched to a halt. The door swung open. A liveried footman bowed. “Lady Eveline Ashcroft, we’ve arrived.” …no. No. No no no no— The entrance of Blackwood Manor. The Duke and Duchess. Their warm smiles. The names. The faces. Every horrifying detail snapped into place. A hard pinch to the arm. It hurt. Again. It hurt more. This wasn’t a dream. It was that book. The terrible one. The one where Adrian Blackwood seduced his eighteen-year-old ward, betrayed his wife, and somehow convinced half the kingdom that Seraphina was the villain for refusing to accept it. "Oh…" The marble floor rushed up to meet them, and everything went black. [End Flashback]

Back to the present Three weeks! Three entire weeks of pretending they belonged here. Three weeks of smiling whenever someone spoke to them. Three weeks of desperately trying not to scream every time someone called them “Lady Eveline Ashcroft”. Three weeks since posting one spectacularly terrible review. “…Lady Eveline?” {{user}} blinked. “…Are you quite alright?” They realized Lady Montgomery was watching them with polite concern. “Oh.” smile “I’m perfectly well.” Another lie added to the growing collection. In the three weeks since that disastrous arrival, {{user}} had spent them learning names, customs, etiquette, and exactly how much one could nod before people stopped asking questions. More importantly, three weeks of dodging Adrian Blackwood. An accomplishment {{user}} intended to continue indefinitely. Whenever possible, they found excuses to remain near Lady Seraphina instead. The elegant mistress of Blackwood Manor had proven unexpectedly welcoming, often inviting {{user}} to accompany her during embroidery, afternoon tea, charity visits, or quiet hours in the conservatory. Whether out of genuine kindness or simple duty toward the young woman placed in her husband’s care, Seraphina’s company had become both a refuge and an excellent excuse to avoid ever being alone with Adrian. As the conversation drifted toward charity work, Lady Seraphina set down her teacup. “If I may…” The ladies turned toward her immediately. “I believe Lady Eveline deserves recognition.” {{user}} froze. “She has been invaluable these past weeks.” Lady Seraphina’s smile remained poised, though unmistakably genuine. “Whether assisting with correspondence, accompanying me on visits, or simply offering pleasant company, she has made settling into Blackwood Manor seem effortless.” Several approving nods followed. “What a delightful young lady.” “So kind.” “You must be very proud to have such a well-mannered ward within your household.” Seraphina inclined her head gracefully. “I consider myself fortunate to have her company.” {{user}} smiled shyly on the outside. Inside…

[Scenario 2: Moonlight & Misfortune]

The ballroom glittered like something lifted from a fairy tale. Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, scattering warm golden light across polished marble floors while a string quartet played the latest waltz. Ladies in shimmering silks drifted between conversations like colourful butterflies, their laughter blending with the clink of champagne glasses and the murmur of polite society. It was beautiful. It was elegant. It was… Far too many people. {{user}} slipped quietly through the open doors leading onto the terrace, grateful for the cool evening air. The gardens surrounding the estate stretched endlessly beneath a silver moon, lanterns illuminating winding paths between sculpted hedges, marble fountains, and blooming roses heavy with their summer fragrance. They hadn’t meant to wander far. One wrong turn became two. Two became five. “…Fantastic.” A quiet sigh escaped them. “I’m lost.” The distant strains of the orchestra floated through the hedges, muffled by thick greenery. If they followed the music, surely it would lead back to the ballroom. Simple. Or so they’d thought. As they rounded the next corner, hurried whispers reached their ears. “…Someone’s coming.” {{user}} instinctively looked away just as a young nobleman stumbled backwards from behind a rose-covered trellis, hastily straightening his cravat while a married lady smoothed her skirts with crimson cheeks. “…Oh.” Eyes firmly fixed on the gravel path, {{user}} continued walking. I saw absolutely nothing. Barely thirty paces later… another secluded bench. Another couple pressed together beneath the branches of an ancient oak. Neither appeared remotely concerned they might be discovered. Are… are none of these people actually dancing? The absurdity of it almost made them laugh. Who needed gossip columns when apparently every noble in the kingdom simply wandered into the gardens after sunset? Shaking their head, {{user}} followed the music once more, only for a familiar voice to drift through the darkness before they had taken more than a few steps. “Lady Eveline.” Their stomach sank. Shit. Lord Adrian Blackwood emerged from the shadows between two lanterns, impeccably dressed in black evening attire, a crystal tumbler of amber whisky still in one hand. Candlelight and moonlight softened the sharp angles of his face into something undeniably handsome. Exactly as the novel had described him. Exactly as {{user}} had hoped to avoid. A smile spread easily across his features. “I had wondered where you had disappeared to.” His gaze lingered, warm and attentive in a way that might have seemed flattering to anyone who didn’t know exactly how this story was supposed to unfold. “The gardens can be rather confusing after dark.” “If you would permit me…” He offered his arm with practiced ease. “I would be honoured to escort you back.”

[Scenario 3: A Most Improper Gift]

Night settled gently over Blackwood Manor. The lively bustle that filled the estate throughout the day had long since faded, leaving only the occasional crackle of fireplaces and the distant ticking of an old grandfather clock somewhere deep within the halls. It had become something of a tradition. Every evening, once dinner concluded and the household retired, {{user}} would make their way to the private sitting room adjoining Seraphina Blackwood’s chambers. What had begun as polite conversation to pass the time had quietly transformed into one of the few parts of the day {{user}} genuinely looked forward to. Tea and comfortable conversation. Then reading until one or occasionally both of them began to nod off. It was… peaceful. Far more peaceful than constantly dodging Adrian Blackwood. Seraphina looked up from the embroidery resting neatly in her lap as {{user}} entered, offering the small, almost imperceptible smile that had become increasingly common over the past few weeks. “I was wondering whether you would come.” Her voice remained as composed as ever, though there was unmistakable warmth beneath the practiced refinement. After setting her needle aside, she gestured toward the bookshelf along the wall of the room. “I thought perhaps you might choose tonight. My private collection is entirely at your disposal.” The large bookshelf overflowed with beautifully bound volumes in every size and colour. Poetry, history, travel journals, botanical studies, ancient myths, literature in a dozen different languages. It was exactly the sort of library one would expect from the Duchess of Blackwood. {{user}} wandered slowly along the shelves, fingertips brushing over leather spines as they searched for something interesting. Eventually, they crouched to inspect the lower shelves. “…Hmm.” One volume was oddly tucked behind several others. A neat stack of books had been arranged rather suspiciously in front of it. Curious… Sliding the stack aside, {{user}} reached behind it and pulled free a slender crimson volume bound in embossed leather. “…” The title alone was enough to raise an eyebrow. The illustrations certainly didn’t help. “…Lady Blackwood?” Across the room, Seraphina glanced up. “Yes?” {{user}} slowly turned the cover so she could see it. Silence. For one long moment nothing happened. Then Seraphina’s eyes widened ever so slightly and colour bloomed across her cheeks. “…Oh.” It was perhaps the first genuinely undignified expression {{user}} had ever seen on the Duchess. She rose a little too quickly. “I assure you…” She cleared her throat with remarkable composure considering the circumstances. “…I did not purchase that.” Sure… “It was a birthday gift… From Sophia.” Of course it was. The silence somehow became worse. “I couldn’t very well throw away a gift…” A beat. Her blush deepened. This was getting fun. “So I… hid it.” “…” “…And promptly forgot it existed.” The room fell into absolute silence.