Yes. I transmigrated. How? I don't know how. Ask the lord. Beats me how you'd even go about doing that. I haven't talked to him. If I did, I'd give him a piece of my mind.
Where did I transmigrate to? Go back to the first chapter. Remember that recommended novel on my reader app? Yep. That one. The Princess Knight's Rival. I transmigrated into that one. Okay, fine, I liked that novel. Loved it, in fact. That doesn't mean I wanted to actually live in it. Goodness gracious.
Who did I transmigrate into? Before I answer that, let me give the owner of this body a beating first.
Celestine von Trier. The only daughter of House Trier, a renowned house of magic knights in the kingdom of Resse. Her father, Marquis Claude von Trier, was known as the Protector Marquis, strict and just, if a little aloof, even with his own children. Her mother, Marchioness Carissa von Trier, was the very picture of a genteel, graceful lady, if a little biased toward her sons. Not that she could be blamed, exactly. Her house was known for its great magic knights, and her husband and sons, the very best examples of such knights, gave her a bragging ticket into high society. A daughter couldn't exactly offer the same thing, not unless she married another renowned bachelor.
Their family name rings a bell, doesn't it? Of course it does. It's the family name of the male lead, Carlisle von Trier. Yes. You've guessed correctly, dear readers. The host I transmigrated into is exactly the sister of the male lead.
Don't congratulate me just yet. It isn't a happy thing. No, you've got it all wrong. It's a tragedy. Celestine von Trier was one of the villains. What's wrong with that, you ask? Well, it's all good and dandy that she was a villainess, I could have lived with that. Except for the fact that she was a small fry. Third-rate. Nothing worth noting.
In fact, she was one of those irritating characters I used to curse endlessly for throwing a wet blanket over the main couple's crucial romantic moments. You get my point, right?
Celestine was a bro-con. She was obsessed with her brother and tried to hog his attention all the time. Well, she did the same with her parents too, but the degree to which she fixated on her brother was phenomenal. It soured what had once been a good relationship between them, until it reached a point where no one in the family wanted anything to do with her.
That only worsened her already meek personality. Where she used to cry and demand and make scenes, she started going quiet instead, the kind of quiet that makes a person easy to forget. She became almost non-existent, which made her pathetic death tragic in the most pitiful way.
How did she die?
Asphyxiation, caused by a severe allergic reaction.
Translated into simpler words: Celestine choked to death.
The culprit? A cookie. A cookie gifted to her brother by the female lead, Adelaide. Celestine stole it, went back to her room, and ate it because she didn't want her brother to eat anything another girl had made for him, not knowing it was made with nuts she was allergic to. And the rest is history.
I was being euphemistic when I called her death pitifully tragic. In truth, it was pathetic. What made it even more pathetic was that if her grandfather, the only person who ever treasured Celestine, hadn't arrived the next day for a visit, no one would have known she'd died at all.
Her existence in the Trier estate had become null by that point. No one wanted to see even the shadow of this irritating attention-seeker. Her father and mother felt ashamed of her behavior, unbefitting a young noble lady of society. Her brother could no longer tolerate her antics and stalking tendencies. Yes, even the maids no longer deigned to acknowledge her.
So it wasn't a surprise that no one knew she'd died until her grandfather discovered her body, days after the fact, sitting there in that pink room like she'd simply fallen asleep. The author, after Celestine's death, couldn't be bothered to say what happened next. She was just cannon fodder, and her death nothing more than comic relief, a paragraph to remind readers how far the villainess had fallen before the story moved on to better things.
And I, Bai Feng Jiu, was now expected to live as that very same comic relief. I refuse.
"Celestine von Trier, you dumbass!" I shouted indignantly.
"A dumbass, yes. You're quite right, that's a very apt description of me." An amused, melodious voice answered my frustrated cry.
"The f*ck? A ghost?" My eyes widened as I looked left and right, searching for the source.
"I'm not a ghost. Technically speaking, I'm a soul right now. I'm behind you, by the way." I turned around and was met with the very same face I'd seen in the mirror before I passed out.
"Celestine von Trier." I murmured, brows furrowed. Then I scoffed before retorting.
"Aren't ghosts also souls? What's the difference?" Celestine giggled at my snarky question, playful mirth in her jeweled eyes, the kind I'd only glimpsed in her childhood memories before it faded into something quieter as she grew.
"That's true. Well, I won't get into the systematics of it. Even I don't know that much." She answered, smiling. I raised a brow at her.
"So what is this situation? How is it I can talk to you at all?" I asked neutrally, lips pursed.
"Oh. How strange. You're awfully calm about this." She said, rubbing her chin in thought.