The Crimson Throne

Elaine spent the next three days in her room. The Croix house's head physician would visit daily to check on her recovery process. And since the temple summoned healers would treat only severe internal wounds, they tasked ordinary physicians with treating external injuries.

"You are recovering well, milady." The old physician smiled and packed up his equipment.

"Thank you, Claudius." Elaine smiled back.

Claudius's expression stiffened, but he quickly regained his composure. He was not used to the young lady's newfound friendly demeanor. He took care of her health since birth. Similar to other children her age, she was once a happy child. But the strict discipline, constant disdain from her mother, and the emotional neglect from her father gradually took away the child's laughter. Instead, she became angry and spiteful and would always find new methods to torture those around her, especially the duke's illegitimate children. Claudius shuddered, remembering stories he overheard the maids retold each other of Estella's mischievous deeds.

"Please forgive me, milady. If there is nothing else, I'll take my leave." Claudius took a deep bow and quickly excused himself.

Elaine observed the old physician's fleeing figure and sighed. Estella's present situation appeared highly unfavorable. Her parents neglected her, and the servants and other children secretly terrified or despised her. Based on Elaine's observation these past few days, Estella's servants were replaced frequently, and her meals all needed a mandatory examination for poison. 

Yesterday before dinner, she even witnessed a poison tester's face turning purple after tasting her food, his eyes bloodshot while viscous blood spewed from his mouth. He died in front of her. Elaine's face became pale, and she threw up on the spot. Immediately, the servants replaced her meal, and another poison tester appeared. They dragged the body from sight and cleaned up nonchalantly as if performing an everyday chore. The horrifying incident etched into her memories and reminded her of the dangers she faced.

"Estella has many enemies and not a single ally in this sprawling estate. So how did she survive into adulthood?" Elaine wondered.

Curling into a ball on the bed, Elaine hoped to wake up from this nightmare. She missed her parents and the peaceful life she used to take for granted. Elaine blinked several times, each time resulting in disappointment. She was still lady Estella Marie de La Croix, daughter of the duke of Geris and future death row prisoner.

Maybe I can go back if I die like the original plot.

A morbid idea lighted up in her head. She remembered reading about such phenomena in a couple of novels. After completing a mission or sacrificing herself, the female protagonist would return to her original world, leaving the male protagonist and those who loved her in unbearable pain and reverence. But, of course, most of these stories had happy endings. The male and female protagonists would always meet again somehow. 

What if her mission is to complete the Estella storyline? Not destined to die until she turned nineteen, her untimely death must have disturbed the natural balance of this world, and it sent Elaine here as a substitute, a chess piece, to propel the story forward. 

Elaine did not know the accuracy of her deduction or if her death would yield the desired result. Yet the mere thought of returning home brightened her silvery eyes. After all, she was not Estella and felt no sentimental attachment to this world. Unlike the beloved female protagonist in those tales, no one will miss an evil side character. Thus, she would not have to feel guilty about leaving anyone behind.

"I just have to follow the original path," she told herself.

"Milady, are you not feeling well? Maybe you should lay back down." A young maid approached Elaine, her face filled with worry. She had been watching Elaine from afar and saw her facial expression constantly shifting from frustration in one second to happiness in the next.

"I am fine, Mariam," Elaine reassured her. Mariam was the crying young girl from three days ago. As one of Estella's maids, Mariam handled her comfort and well-being from the moment she woke up to after she fell asleep.

"How old are you, Mariam?"

"I am fifteen, milady," Mariam answered, surprised at the young lady's sudden interest in her.

Elaine studied Mariam, a young girl with long black hair separated into two braids, cheeks spotted with freckles and a pair of teary blue eyes. She was still a child, Elaine lamented. A child was taking care of another child. In her old world, a girl of Mariam's age should still be in high school and enjoying life. 

Even though the original Estella often bullied the poor maid, she was a bit fond of her. In Mariam's demeanor, Estella could feel genuine concern, not the indifference from her parent, the fabricated affection from other adults, or the uneasiness from her sibling.

Yet, still suspicious of Mariam's intention, Elaine scavenged memories for information inside the book. Her endeavor proved unsuccessful, as nowhere in the story mentioned the young maid. She must have been an insignificant minor character, not even worth a sentence.

"Milady?"

"Ahem... It's nothing. Go back to your duties." Elaine let out an awkward cough as Mariam's voice snapped her back from her reverie.

"As you wish, milady." Although still worried, Mariam bowed and returned to dust in the room.