Ch.1Irene Yuris (1)

Reading romance fantasy novels was quite an embarrassing hobby to admit to others.

Whenever I mentioned to friends that I read romance fantasy, they’d respond with “Why would you read that stuff?”

And it’s not like I could bond with women over it either, since there weren’t any women around me.

“Hmm.”

The charm of romance fantasy, unlike regular fantasy, was that romance took center stage.

To be honest, I found storylines focused on romantic developments more entertaining than those centered on a protagonist’s growth.

A female protagonist completely different from others, one who picked up a sword while others focused on their appearance.

Perhaps it was only natural that she would spark the interest of a male protagonist tired of the ordinary.

What I found appealing about romance fantasy was the atmosphere that couldn’t be found in male-oriented stories.

Rather than tales about protagonists becoming stronger, growing, gaining new companions, and overcoming goals—

I just found stories about romance in peaceful everyday settings a bit more entertaining.

And the most appealing aspect? That would be the villains who appeared in romance fantasy.

Unlike villains who simply hated the protagonist for no reason,

these were characters who had their positions taken by irregular protagonists,

and who made their own efforts to reclaim those positions. Isn’t that what makes a villain?

Having always had unusual tastes—colloquially called a “hipster”—I seemed particularly fixated on the villains in novels.

Sometimes I empathized with their situations and cried, other times I felt satisfaction when the protagonist suffered.

But if I had to recall one novel I was especially immersed in,

there would be only one throughout my entire life.

It was the villainess who appeared in a romance fantasy novel I’d recently read.

Irene Yuris, the villainess from “You of the Rose Thorns,”

reading the scene where she eventually dies at the hands of the female protagonist and the crown prince, all I could think was how pitiful she was.

Raised by a strict father from a young age, her heart was full of wounds.

Just when it seemed spring might finally come for her, the sudden appearance of the protagonist caused her family to begin crumbling.

She grew distant from the crown prince after being reprimanded for disciplining an ill-mannered lady at a social gathering,

and as she fell from the crown prince’s favor, her relationships with other nobles naturally severed as well.

Even the eldest son of the duke’s family who had promised to marry her in childhood, and the ladies who had been her close friends, all disappeared.

The emotions she had never been able to express in front of her father finally erupted after a series of events.

With all her relationships gone, having nothing left to lose, she chose to stand against the protagonist.

Irene’s story ended with her being beheaded by the crown prince, who interpreted her actions as treason.

How many pages were actually devoted to her story?

From the protagonist’s perspective, she was a villainess, but from my third-party perspective as a reader, Irene wasn’t evil.

She was just a pitiful woman who wanted affection more than anyone, who desired love more than anyone else.

“…How sad.”

Somehow, I found it quite depressing that no one mourned her death.

Even the comment section was celebrating her death, calling it “satisfying.”

It felt like my own situation, which made me laugh hollowly.

Suddenly feeling my eyelids grow heavy, I rubbed my sleepy eyes and slowly closed them.

Even with my eyes closed, that scene kept coming to mind, making my chest feel tight.

Did she really have to die? Villains are forgotten once they die.

No matter how much a villain might repent at death, they’re ultimately just consumables to elevate the protagonist.

So she would never appear again.

That thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

If she hadn’t grown up under strict education without any friends in her childhood, would things have been different?

If there had been someone to stop her actions and help her maintain her relationships, would things have been different?

Irene Yuris.

Even as I was falling asleep, that name kept circling in my mind, and I took a deep breath.

It’s just a novel, after all. I should be able to forget about it now.

“…Sigh.”

For some reason, that night felt unusually long with her presence curled up in the center of my mind, troubling my sleep.

#

“Ah…”

Had I fallen asleep? Bright light entered my squinting eyes.

A light so bright it was hard to believe it could enter a semi-basement room.

I understood that summer sunlight was bright, but wasn’t this a bit too much?

When I tried to pull the blanket over my face, I could feel that the texture was different from usual.

Instead of the rough cotton blanket I’d bought at the market for ten thousand won, what I felt was immediately recognizable as a high-quality fabric, soft to the touch.

The bed I was lying on was also different from before, making me frown.

Had I been moved somewhere without knowing?

As I raised my body, which felt strangely difficult to move, I noticed that my eye level was different too.

It wasn’t just because the height of the bed had changed.

It was as if my body had been switched.

My drowsy mind instantly cleared with a jolt.

Only then did I notice that the bed and blankets were pure white, unlike before.

For a moment, my vision swam as if I’d been hit hard on the back of my head.

How on earth should I understand this situation?

Even after sitting up, my lowered line of sight told me that I had become shorter.

I carefully plucked a strand of hair and stared at it with wide eyes.

Golden color? That wasn’t my hair color.

The brain structure of someone who only read novels in their room required quite a bit of time to process and accept this reality.

I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling, and even my body had changed—who would readily accept such a ridiculous reality?

The only question was, what world had I entered?

I was utterly bewildered.

I had never left nasty comments to upset an author, never been hit by a car, never written a 5,700-character complaint about an unsatisfying plot development.

I couldn’t even tell if this was a dream or reality.

After staring at the sunlight streaming through the window for a moment, I looked around.

A pile of worn wooden swords in one corner.

Split, broken, and even the most intact ones were either partially broken or covered in nicks—they looked like they belonged to someone who had trained quite diligently.

‘These probably belonged to whoever used this room before. Now that would be me.’

Looking at the calluses thoroughly embedded in my hands, a sigh escaped my lips.

I had never used my body much except for relay races during sports days, and now I was in the body of someone who used a sword.

I tried to recall if there were any memories left in my head, but nothing came to mind except what I originally remembered, so I sat back down on the bed.

There seemed to be only two things I could tell from looking around this room.

Apart from the fact that I used a sword, as I’d just discovered,

the owner of this body wasn’t of very high status, and perhaps… the world I had entered was

the world of “You of the Rose Thorns,” the novel I had been reading before falling asleep.

I closed my eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them again and stared blankly at the emblem drawn on the door.

“Ha.”

A laugh escaped me. It was both because I couldn’t believe it and because the situation was just funny.

But when I realized where I was, the thought that came to mind made me chuckle.

How could I forget that emblem? One of the five ducal houses tasked with protecting the empire,

the Yuris Duchy, which was responsible for defense and used a thorned shield as its emblem. How could I not know?

Irene Yuris.

Remembering her name—a mere villainess in a novel—whom I had stayed up all night thinking about yesterday, my eyes stung.

‘Maybe.’

Maybe I could change things? Even though I didn’t know what time period this was, or how I would meet Irene Yuris, but maybe.

Just maybe, I could save her.

It might be a nonsensical thought. I didn’t even know exactly what my status was here.

I could simply be a slave being raised for noble dueling competitions, so hasty expectations might only bring trouble.

Slap-

I hit both my cheeks with my hands, which seemed to calm my heart a little, and I quietly stared at the door while catching my breath.

I couldn’t stay here forever. Just as I thought I should go out now,

Bang-

The door opened without warning, and my body stiffened for a moment.

Raising my lowered head, I saw a rather fierce-looking man.

Wearing heavy armor, he looked like a skilled knight at a glance, so I quickly stood at attention, drawing on my military experience.

After staring at me standing there for a moment, the man finally spoke.

“What are you doing standing there blankly? The young lady is calling for you.”

“…Yes!”

I hesitated for a moment at the mention of “young lady,” but since it wasn’t the time to ask questions, I followed the knight-like figure.

By the way, there was quite a height difference. How old was the body I had become?

That question was soon answered by my reflection in a transparent glass. At a glance, I looked about 15 years old.

Judging by my lowered eye level, I was probably around 170 cm tall, which was actually quite tall for my age.

With the age question resolved, the next curiosity was about the “young lady” who had called for me.

What was my role that warranted a direct summons?

At least I didn’t seem to be a slave, as the maids I occasionally passed greeted me with friendly waves.

As befitting a ducal residence, most of the maids were nobles themselves.

Even though they were doing menial tasks like cleaning floors and dusting, they were children of baronets or viscounts, so I probably wasn’t of low status.

Judging by the swords in the room earlier, perhaps I was a knight candidate?

Knight candidate—not a bad status.

Even becoming just a knight would earn considerable respect. Though there was a possibility of going to war, I could survive if I wanted to.

“What are you thinking about so deeply? Hurry up and go in.”

“Ah, yes.”

While I was lost in thought, we seemed to have arrived at the young lady’s quarters, as the knight frowned at me.

After staring briefly at the shield emblem symbolizing the Yuris Duchy, I exhaled slowly and opened the door.

“Are you only coming now?”

Before the door was fully open, a beautiful voice flowed in.

Just as I was admiring the gentle tone that soothed my heart, my face froze at the sight of the woman who came into view.

“Are you nervous? There’s no need to be so stiff.”

No, I wasn’t nervous. I was simply shocked by the name that came to mind the moment I saw her face.

Hair as white as clouds in the sky, blue eyes reminiscent of the clear sky beside those clouds,

and lips as red as if soaked in blood—I was startled by the name that came to mind the moment I saw her.

The person standing before me, this “young lady,”

was Irene Yuris, the villain and villainess from “You of the Rose Thorns,” whose death had made me so sad.