Blinding lights. The flash of cameras. Dozens of fans cheering endlessly.
This is the life Morgan Slate knows of. That all holds true until she's betrayed and sold out by the one she loved most and... dies.
When she opens her eyes the next day, she...
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One hour passes, then two. I've finished off the food as well as the tea I was given, despite it turning cold within the first hour. There's nothing in this room to keep me entertained, not even a single book. So laying on the spacious bed has been my only vice. But as I stare up at the ceiling and take in lace patterns, I come to a realization that I shouldn't be holed up in this room all day.
The old Chrysanthy barely went out from what I can see within my memories of her. Shortly after coming to the palace, it was like all happiness escaped her. Initially, she was nothing but a political tool to her family; namely her father. He was quick to sell her off to strengthen his ties within the empire and to the imperial family. It was lucky for him that she was born in the same generation as the current emperor.
In the past, Chrysanthy was excited to become the crown princess. She was a child who knew nothing about politics, nor the world. To a little girl, becoming an actual princess was a dream come true. And for Chrysanthy, this was finally a chance for her family to accept her. Only they still treated her the same. Furthermore, any friends she had became weary of her.
Loneliness became her only friend as she became isolated because of the sudden status change. It had been like that since she was thirteen. Then two years later, she was forced to leave the academy - the only place she was able to breathe and have some sort of semblance of socialization - to start her empress studies.
Scoffing, I roll to the side to pull myself up. Again, why should I have to wallow in pain and misery inside this large room. The palace is my home and I'm the empress here. If I've been forced into this body, I'll use my power and position and create a better life; not just for myself, but for Chrysanthy as well.
I stand to my feet and walk over to the wardrobe in one corner of the room. Pulling it open, I take in the very few clothing that's in here. All are dresses, fitting whatever timezone I'm living in. What's surprising is how empty the wardrobe is. For me, everything is also much too brightly colored.
I pick the darkest thing in the closet which happens to be a lavender-colored dress. Holding it out in front of me, I can see by the width of the garment that it's luckily a maternity dress. I get to work pulling off the camisole nightgown I'm wearing and pulling on my outfit for the day.
While the top of the dress fits around my bust, the high waistline is free flowing. The sleeves itch a little because of the mesh used to make them puffy. As the dress reaches all the way to my ankles, the only way to properly describe this dress is something like 'regencycore', or a modern take on the outfits seen in the Regency Era.
Finding only heels at the bottom of the wardrobe, I roll my eyes. Chrysanthy is pregnant, do they mean to tell me that they've been forcing her to only wear heels. I mean, from what I can tell, her feet aren't swollen, but still. That's an accident waiting to happen.
Walking to the mirror, I comb my hair with my fingers, making sure I look decent enough to step out. There's not much to worry about, especially with features like these.
