My Virtual Darcy 🏆 2021 Wattys Shortlister

2 - Meeting the Family

Elizabeth Bennet's renowned fine eyes blinked inside the reflection, startling me. I gasped, before realizing my silliness and stepping closer to the mirror. I let my hands glide over the pastel green muslin dress, admiring the high-waisted skirt that was cut as one with the bodice and flattered her figure.

The straight, full-length sleeves indicated I was wearing a morning gown from the end of the eighteenth century, matching the period Jane Austen wrote the first draft of her novel. A large, white handkerchief covered my crossover neckline with embroidered lace, modestly concealing the cleavage.

I swayed, revelling in the rustling of the silk petticoat. The movement drew my attention to the lower part of my body, and I froze in wide-eyed bewilderment. I brushed my back with caution, my hands asserting what my buttocks already knew. Holy moly, I had no panties.

Technically, I was not naked under my gown. Drawers protected my thighs while allowing business to be done--a breeze between my legs confirmed it. Stays supported my bustline, turning my torso into a stiff, inverted cone, and a shift shielded me from the fully-boned garment. I raised my hand to identify its fabric, blushing at the touch of the soft bosom that was definitely more generous than my real one.

Letters appeared from thin air, hanging in front of my eyes no matter where I looked. The Bridge manifested itself, asking for my attention.

Would you like to keep this appearance, or load your own?

Oh, that was a tough one. I weighed the pros and the cons of customising my character. Would I rather live the story as a Caucasian girl, with fair skin, chestnut hair, and those weird frizzy curls that kept tickling my cheekbones?

Or should I stick to my own appearance, sun-kissed skin, straight raven hair, lanky arms, and almond-shaped eyes? Would it be weird for the other characters to have an Asian lady strolling through Longbourn and Pemberley? Would they even notice? Would it affect the storyline?

After this intense inner debate, I decided on the second option. If the device offered its user the possibility to load their appearance, it surely meant that the artificial intelligence, or whatever controlled the game, was able to handle any physical feature.

"My own, please."

A snort so powerful came out through my nose that its vibrations reverberated to my ears. Irrepressible laughter filled the corridor as I hunched over, ears burning from merriness.

"C-can you disable the English accent, please?" I asked breathily, unable to spend the whole story with this refined diction.

Accent switched to Canadian English.

A hand against the wall to keep balance, I dropped the hat and massaged my sore, hardened abdomen, fits of giggles shaking my body from time to time, until I managed to regain countenance. With a last chuckle, I straightened myself up, wiped a tear, and read the new words.

Do you confirm that you read and agreed to the terms and conditions?

I promised myself I would dutifully study the instruction manual after a good night's sleep. "Sure."

Elizabeth Bennet rippled in the mirror, like a reflection on a small water pond. In the blink of an eye, I replaced her in the pale green gown. I smiled goofily at my familiar traits, wiggling my brows up and down. My grin widened as I cupped my breasts, whispering to them, "I love you, girls, no matter your size."

In the evening room, Mrs. Bennet scoffed, bringing my attention back to the story. I bowed down to pick up the bonnet, then squared my shoulders and cleared my throat, working up the courage to meet, well, my family. With a last glance at the mirror, I patted my head, wishing I had something to try and bring some life into my stupid, sleek mane. Eighteen century fashion was not the best match for my Asian hair.