Chapter 5
Vidalia woke with a throbbing headache, as though she had been struck hard—and upon reflection, that was exactly what had happened. The memories of the day resurfaced as she sat up, pressing the cloth she had tied against her temple. She glanced out the window and saw that night had fallen; the main manor lay dark and silent.
Letting out a trembling sigh, Vidalia carefully climbed down from her bed and leaned over the basin of water that had been waiting so long it had turned cold. She slowly removed the cloth and looked at her reflection in the gently rippling surface.
Vidalia was aware of her own beauty. The first day she arrived, after taking a long bath and scrubbing herself clean, she had been the most shocked of all. She looked like a supernatural creature—magnificent and ethereal, capable of seducing someone to their very death. That was undeniably her. She was not narcissistic; she simply knew how to acknowledge facts.
She examined her cheek—the shards of glass had certainly not missed their mark. Long, dark, gleaming hair; the first time she had seen it, she had thought she was gazing at a starry sky. Beautiful almond-shaped emerald eyes, a brilliant green flecked with tiny golden sparkles. A heart-shaped face, full pink lips that could look either soft or sulky, and porcelain-white skin. The only thing she found strange were her long, thick lashes, white as snow—yet they only enhanced her beauty.
No, she wasn't narcissistic, but she truly looked like a nymph, straight out of the stories she used to read in her previous life. Vidalia stared at the cut standing starkly along the left side of her face. Her stepmother had been right—she must have the blood of some supernatural creature in her veins. How could a poor, added-on character like her attract more attention than the protagonist herself?
She cast a hesitant glance at the veils laid out on her bed. She had no choice, did she? Vidalia bit her lower lip in disappointment, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She had hoped she would be forgotten, but Wisia and her big mouth had surely ruined everything. Vidalia let out a choked laugh and shook her head—it wasn't Wisia's fault. In the original novel, she was already known for being honest and eccentric.
Suddenly, the water began to boil.
Vidalia recoiled in panic and scrambled back under the bed. She watched in confusion as the water rose and formed a swelling bubble. She couldn't help but think that a curse was following her—or that God himself had something against her.
She stared as the water took shape, forming a butterfly—no. She squinted, then widened her eyes in awe.
A fairy.
The water had taken the form of a fairy.
It resembled a tiny human with turquoise-blue butterfly wings, wearing a lovely flower-shaped dress.
The fairy yawned as if waking from a long sleep, surveyed the room, then let out a silent scream. Vidalia watched in amusement as it hopped and fluttered around the chamber—until it suddenly stopped and stared straight at her. Vidalia froze, then quickly scooted farther beneath the bed.
The fairy floated closer, examining Vidalia from head to toe. Vidalia thought she saw a flicker of sadness in its eyes as it looked at her wound. Then the fairy straightened, pointed first at Vidalia's face, then at itself, nodding with firm determination.
Vidalia tilted her head, confused.
The fairy gently touched her injury, and Vidalia felt cool water flow across her entire face. It was refreshing—like when her mother used to touch her cheeks. She closed her eyes and savored the sensation.
After a few minutes, the fairy proudly withdrew its hands and beamed at her.
"W-What… what did you do?" Vidalia whispered timidly.
The fairy opened its mouth to reply, but no sound came out. It tried again—nothing. Frustrated, it let out another silent cry and took a deep breath. Vidalia laughed softly at its antics.
"Wait… I think I understand what you're trying to tell me," Vidalia said with a gentle smile.
She crawled out from under the bed, opened the drawer of her desk, and took out a shard of mirror. Holding it up to the fairy, she gave it a questioning look. The fairy smiled and nodded vigorously, urging her to look.
Vidalia shrugged and glanced at her reflection—then gasped.
Her wound was gone.
"You did this?!" she exclaimed, eyes wide.
The fairy puffed out its chest and smiled proudly.
"Th-Thank you!" Vidalia said, her smile trembling with tears. "Thank you so much."
She had thought she had accepted her punishment, yet seeing her face disfigured had hurt more than she wanted to admit. This tiny fairy had answered a distress she had tried to bury.
Suddenly, Vidalia's eyes widened.
Her father's words echoed in her mind: "Intermediate-level power."
That was from the original story.
How could she have forgotten?
Those with intermediate-level abilities were rare in Angela's Smile. People who possessed such coveted power were always central figures in the story—and one of the bonuses of such power was spirits.
"Y-You're a spirit, aren't you?" Vidalia asked hesitantly, her breath shallow.
The fairy turned to her and nodded, confirming her suspicion.
Vidalia let out a weary sigh. She had summoned an intermediate-level spirit. Everything was unfolding in a way that would only make her stepfamily hate her more.
"Oh God… why does this keep happening to me?" she murmured weakly.
The fairy seemed saddened by her words, and Vidalia hurried to reassure it.
"No, it's not you," she said quickly. "My situation just doesn't allow me to rejoice." She gestured around the room.
The fairy followed her gaze and made a sign.
"A prison," Vidalia said, raising her brows. "Yes… that's the word." She nodded with a trembling smile.
The fairy began gesturing wildly, silently shouting about everything and nothing at once. Vidalia wasn't sure how she could understand it—but it felt good to finally have someone to talk to.
"I'm glad you're worried about me," Vidalia said softly, gazing out the window, distant. "But unfortunately, no one can get me out of here. This is my life now."
The fairy looked at her sadly and gestured again.
"Is there something you could do for me?" Vidalia wondered aloud.
She felt so alone—and likely would remain so for a long time. Her mother was already gone.
"Well… I don't know if you can," she said shyly, cheeks pink, "but I'd like to be friends with you."
The fairy suddenly burst with excitement, nodding enthusiastically before planting a kiss on Vidalia's cheek. Vidalia stared at it in astonishment, tears welling up as a radiant smile lit her tear-streaked face.
The party was about to begin.
From her window, Vidalia watched dozens of beautifully decorated carriages arrive, each bearing the crest of a different family. Guests stepped out in elegant gowns and tailored tailcoats—women, men, and children alike, all dazzling.
Her stomach growled loudly, making her grimace and blush. Since she had been locked away, no one had brought her food. Either it was part of her punishment… or they had simply forgotten her. Vidalia sighed, folded her arms on the windowsill, and buried her face in them.
She had followed the instructions and put on the veil. It covered her entire face and back. Her stepmother never did things halfway—she had even sent hairpins and fasteners to secure it to her clothes. Vidalia's first reaction had been a disdainful sniff, followed by a humorless smile.
Now she viewed her new world through entirely new eyes. Everything was blurred, yet still visible. She was used to seeing like this. In her former life, Vidalia had been nearsighted—and she had lived in the forest, where darkness was often necessary to avoid drawing attention. Wild beasts or humans—it was all the same in the end.
Someone touched her shoulder.
Vidalia turned to see Naya. She had eventually named the intermediate spirit, and Naya had stayed by her side—just as it was written in the original novel. Naya flashed her a wide smile, and Vidalia returned it with a questioning look.
"What is it?" she asked.
Naya tugged at her, pointing toward the desk. Vidalia followed her gaze and stared in surprise.
Two cookies lay there.
"Did you bring these?" Vidalia asked, picking them up in disbelief.
Naya nodded proudly and urged her to eat.
Touched, Vidalia smiled, broke one cookie in half, and offered a piece to Naya.
"Happy birthday to me," Vidalia sang softly, and Naya joined in, swaying happily.
She smiled and took a bite. Vidalia gasped, staring at the cookie, then at Naya.
"It's chocolate!" she said gratefully, her eyes shining beneath the veil.
She loved chocolate. It had been her small comfort in her former life—sweet treats to make a day bearable. Vidalia smiled brightly and took another bite.
Her birthday had arrived… accompanied by an old friend.