I've always been smart. Maybe too smart for my own good. My professors in college called me a modern-day genius who lived buried in books, gadgets, and puzzles no one else could even begin to understand. And then, apparently, life decided to have a sense of humor. I died. I slipped on a wet sidewalk, tripped over a crooked street sign, and boom. I was gone.
Or at least, that's what I thought.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn't staring at a hospital ceiling or blinking at fluorescent lights. The air smelled like smoke coming from candles, polished wood, and… old books? Everyone around me was whispering in that ridiculously dramatic noble way.
"My lady… your grace… please spare Lara's life"
I blinked. I looked at my surroundings before I frozed when I realized I was kneeling on a chopping block. And yes, on a gleamingly sharp blade hovered just above my neck.
"…Uh. Hi?" I squeaked. "This is… awkward."
A man in black stood over me, trying way too hard to look serious. I tried not to notice his massive mustache.
Focus, Lara. Focus!
Even in full-blown panic, I couldn't help but notice how ridiculous this all was. I was about to be beheaded… in a historical romance novel. And of course, I wasn't the heroine. To make it worse, I was a freaking maid! The lowly, invisible maid with nothing going for me except frilly sleeves and sore knees.
And then it hit me.
A few weeks ago, I had actually read this novel. I remembered rolling my eyes at it, muttering, "Wow, what a boring, over-the-top plot. And don't even get me started on that ridiculous heroine."
Eveline Sinclaire
She's young, spoiled and overly extra dramatic daughter of Baron Sinclaire. She's probably about to ruin the entire kingdom or at least her dinner party this week.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Well, this is disappointing. I going to die again.
The executioner cleared his throat. I had three options: panic and scream, faint dramatically, or think really, really fast.
Thinking fast won.
I remembered everything I knew. I recall those story, movie, and random survival tip I'd ever learned. Most importantly, I still had my modern knowledge. That meant I might—just might—get out of this alive. Maybe? Hopefully? Please let this work!
I scanned my surroundings. There's a bucket of water nearby, a slightly crooked rope, and a conveniently placed table. Not much, but maybe enough.
A plan began to form. It might be ridiculously insane. But hey… genius or not, I didn't exactly have a backup body waiting in the afterlife.
"Excuse me!" I yelled, my voice trembling. Everyone froze. Heads turned. A few gasps. I swallowed. "I—I think there's been a mistake! I'm… supposed to be a maid, not… this."
The executioner frowned. Eveline, draped in layers of ridiculous silk, looked like she'd just spotted a bug on her gown and nothing else.
I sighed. Of course. She never notices anything important. Of course!
And then it hit me again. I am of humble origin but I armed with modern knowledge, and now knowing the story like the back of my hand? I had a chance.
Because if I didn't survive… I was about to die again.
I straightened my back and muttered, "Okay. Let's fix this mess." At that moment, I promised myself I wasn't just going to survive. I was going to survive and show this absurd court exactly how clever a lowly maid could be.
I'd survived death once. Surely, I could do it again.