I Accidentally Revealed the Original Story to the Villain - Chapter 1

“Are you sure you don’t need me to put you to sleep, my lady?”

“Uh-huh! I can sleep on my own!”

On the surface, it was a rather mature answer. And that was exactly what made the nanny’s expression tighten with unease.

“Lorelai, are your ears failing you? Why do you keep asking? Should I tell Father to call for the physician?”

Normally, the young lady would have said something like that, face pure and guileless, without a trace of malice. But tonight, she was far too subdued. Too calm for the spirited lady she usually was.

“My lady… are you truly all right?”

“H-huh? Why-why? Wh-what’s so strange?”

“…No, it’s nothing.”

Nanny Lorelai trailed off.

‘What isn’t strange?’ Everything about her was strange. From start to finish, every little thing felt wrong.

Sylvia Langston, who always hated naps with a passion…

Why was she suddenly asking to sleep early?

Only moments ago, she’d been her usual self. But then, out of nowhere, she had jolted like someone struck by a fit. Since then, she’d been restless, fidgeting, watching her surroundings like a cornered rabbit.

No, “strange” didn’t cover it. Suspicious was closer.

Because Sylvia Langston was not the kind of child who cared about anyone’s gaze.

Lorelai studied the girl lying so obediently in bed.

Sylvia averted her eyes and deliberately turned her head away.

“I’m sleepy.”

‘Lies.’ But Lorelai said nothing, only pulled the blanket up over her as if she hadn’t noticed.

“All right, then. Sweet dreams, my lady.”

The girl who could never sit still for even a moment was lying there like an angel, quiet and composed.

Lorelai could only wonder…

What sort of whimsy had taken hold of the young lady now?

╭══ ≪ •❈• ≫ ══╮

At last, the door closed.

The moment Lorelai stepped out, Sylvia shot upright.

Alone at last. No more reason to pretend.

Her gaze wavered violently, raw with emotion.

Shock. Confusion. Panic. They flickered through her eyes one after another, rising and fading like waves crashing against the shore.

Then her eyes fell on the tall mirror across the room.

Without a thought, Sylvia scrambled down from the bed and ran straight to it.

“Gasp!”

She froze before the glass, breath catching in her throat.

A girl she was seeing for the first time stared back at her.

Cotton-candy pink hair, soft and fluffy. Clear sky-blue eyes. A child, no more than ten years old.

No, it wasn’t the first time. That face was her own. And yet… it felt unfamiliar, like looking at someone else’s reflection wearing her skin.

Sylvia leaned closer.

The girl in the mirror, with pink hair and bewildered eyes, mirrored her every move.

“This can’t be real…”

The pink-haired girl pinched her cheek in unison, whispering the same words.

Pain.

‘It’s not a dream then…’

“I should be… in the hospital.”

General Hospital. Intensive Care Unit. Room 804.

She had been in its care for nearly ten years, so the place felt more familiar than the home she’d grown up in.

And yet—what on earth was this?

The scene before her was nothing like Room 804, which was all white and smelled of alcohol and disinfectant.

It was a strangely disorienting feeling.

Alongside the oddness, a deep comfort spread through her; an ease almost as strong as the foreignness.

This room felt as familiar to her as Room 804 did. As if she’d been here for ten years…

“Have I lost my mind because they told me I don’t have long to live?” Sylvia muttered to herself, dazed.

She remembered everything clearly.

“Yesterday” was her twentieth Christmas.

On that day—when the world seemed full of love and peace—the medical staff had delivered a horrific gift: the news that she had less than three months left.

“She” grabbed at the medical staff as they were leaving, asking whether they’d told her parents. They said they’d already informed them a few days ago.

‘And still no one came.’

She was twenty. She was past the age of collapsing into tears over parental neglect, but the sadness wouldn’t leave her.

‘It’s not my fault I’m sick. I didn’t want this either.’

Knowing it was pointless, she called anyway, driven by loneliness. The phone she clung to finally rolled over to voicemail.

Emptiness and futility swirled together, and regret followed close behind.

If she’d known she was going to die like this, she thought, she would have done everything she’d wanted to do instead of wasting time, clinging to the vain hope that ten years in a little hospital room would somehow make her healthy again.

Tears began to well in Sylvia’s eyes as she stared at the mirror.

“Sob- Sniff. It’s not fair.”

She felt wronged.

“That’s it? That’s the end?”

Her twentieth Christmas… She had no memories after that.

Sylvia’s sobs turned into full-bodied wailing.

“I must really be dead. Sniff. Sob!”

She felt unbearably pitiable, unbearably wronged.

“What did I do that was so terrible?”

She wanted to hear anything, even a lie, that promised she’d get better soon, that she wouldn’t die, that she’d be able to do everything she wanted. That alone would have been enough.

How—how could they not have answered that call that night?

What kind of Christmas could have been so joyful that, upon hearing her child was dying, they neither came to the hospital nor even answered her calls?

The last image she had of her parents was of faces full of irritation, blaming her for being sick.

She remembered the last time her parents had visited the hospital; it was a hot summer day.

Finally, Sylvia broke down into a flood of sobs.

At the commotion, the maid Emily rushed in at once.

“My goodness! My lady, why are you crying all of a sudden? Oh… hush now. Stop, stop. Goodness. Why are you suddenly like this?”

Emily’s gentle words made her grief only grow, and she recalled her parents’ coldness.

Sylvia curled into her arms and whimpered.

“E-Emily. You know? Hic- I-I… I—waaah!”

“Yes, Miss? What is it? Why are you crying so bitterly?”

“I’m-I’m dead! Hic! Sniff! Waaah!”

“Pardon? Wh-what did you say?”

“I’m telling you! I died! Waaaah! Those quacks, I won’t forgive them! Three months, they said! Three months! They were completely wrong!”

‘You died? What nonsense was that supposed to be?’ Emily was so taken aback that she couldn’t even speak for a moment.

“Then who am I holding right now? A ghost? Though for a ghost, you feel pretty heavy.”

She chuckled softly as she wiped Sylvia’s tears away.

“My lady, how could you be dead? Look at you… You’re so healthy. You’ve never even had a sick day, and now you say something like this? Why the sudden tears before naptime?”

Emily gently eased her back onto the bed.

“Rest. A nap will clear this all away.”

She smoothed the crumpled blanket over her with a careful hand.

“Just one thing, my lady. Don’t say such things in front of Madam. If she ever heard it, she might faint on the spot.”

“But—”

“Remember? The last time, when you nearly burned your hand with the teacup?”

She remembered. That day, she had been sitting together with her parents, enjoying their tea time.

Sylvia had been playing at the table when hot tea nearly spilled over her small hand. In that split second, her father, Duke Langston, had thrust his own hand out, shielding her.

Thanks to him, Sylvia had escaped unscathed, but her father had suffered a severe burn that took a long time to heal.

“Are you all right? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Sylvia fell silent as she recalled her father’s first words‌. His own hand was blistered and red. Emily smiled gently at her expression.

“It’s nothing but a nightmare, my lady. Nothing more. You’ll live a long, long life! I promise.”

Emily patted her chest softly, her voice as tender as a lullaby.

“Just as you’ve always been these past ten years: healthy and happy. Now sleep well, and dream sweetly. That’s how you’ll grow tall.”

Emily tucked her in with the same gentleness and slipped out once more.

The door closed.

Sylvia stared blankly into the air, lost in thought.

“Dream…?”

Was it really a dream, like Emily had said?

Sylvia shook her head almost at once.

It wasn’t a dream. She was certain she’d been the patient in Room 804. The chill of the ward, the humidity, the sharp sting of disinfectant, even the pain: she remembered it all exactly.

“I was definitely me, but then…”

And yet now, this was her too.

After emptying herself of sorrow and outrage, a rush of reality came flooding in.

If this were a dream, she wouldn’t remember yesterday’s picnic with her parents. She wouldn’t remember begging Lorelai not to go to the annex the day before. She wouldn’t remember being scolded by her parents after flinging an object at Lorelai’s nephew, Ray, the day before that.

Right.

“So… if none of that was a dream, and this isn’t a dream either… then what the heck is going on?”

She clapped a hand over her mouth. Her tear-glossed eyes opened wide, sky-blue irises filled with astonishment. It lasted only a moment.

Emily’s old warning popped into her head—that if you cry and then laugh, horns will grow on your backside—but she couldn’t stop herself. A laugh bubbled out from behind her hand, bright and helpless.

“Oh my God.”

Maybe gods do exist after all.

And if they do, they’re fair and just gods indeed.

Sylvia wrapped her arms around herself and rolled happily across the bed.

“I’m healthy! Completely healthy!”

It was clear.

Someone must have taken pity on the poor girl who died unhappily in her past life and given her a life full only of joy this time.

A healthy body and parents who loved her more than anything in the world. Those were things she’d never dared hope for in her last life and now felt like the most natural thing.

“I’m not in pain! Really! It doesn’t hurt at all! Whoa!”

She sprang up and began bouncing across the mattress, shouting with glee. No matter how she jumped, she only broke into a sweat. There was no breathlessness, no spasms, no collapsing. That fact alone made her deliriously happy.

“Yippee~ Woo hoo! I feel like I could fly! My body is so light!”

“Goodness, Milady! I thought you were asleep! Why are you jumping on the bed? It’s dangerous! Look at you sweating like that! Was this all a prank just now?”

Emily burst in, scolding as always, alarmed by the commotion, but nothing could dampen Sylvia’s joy.

I’m healthy!

I-

Am-

Healthy!

Hello! I’ll be your translator in this journey called I Accidentally Revealed the Original Story to the Villain, hope you like it as much as I do! Feel free to leave a comment, rate on NU, follow in Discord for updates and other announcements, tip me on Ko-fi, or read my other projects! ♥