Chapter 10- Inside the Pages
668 Words
Chapter Ten: Inside the Pages
[Cassandra's POV]
I woke up to the soft rustling of curtains and the distant chirping of birds.
The light filtering through the grand arched windows was warm, golden, almost too perfect, like something painted rather than real. My eyes fluttered open slowly, and the first thing I saw was an ornate ceiling, carved in delicate floral patterns.
Definitely not my apartment.
My heart thudded. I sat up instantly, only to wince at the sharp jolt in my head. The sheets beneath me were silk, my nightgown unfamiliar, and the room... the room looked like it was plucked straight from a fantasy movie. Elegant furniture, velvet drapes, candles floating midair. Everything screamed ancient royalty.
A gasp pulled my gaze to the left. A girl, maybe seventeen, was sitting beside the bed, hands clutched tightly, as if in prayer. She looked equally startled to see me awake.
“Oh, thank the stars! You’re awake, Lady Seraphina!”
Lady… who?
I blinked at her. “What did you call me?”
She looked confused by my confusion. “You’re Lady Seraphina, milady. I’m Manon, your personal maid. You’ve been unconscious for three days after falling off your horse in the Eastern garden.” Her voice trembled slightly. “The physicians feared the worst.”
“Seraphina…” I repeated, my voice barely a whisper. The name sent a strange shiver down my spine. I swallowed hard, memories colliding. The storm. The car. That flash of light. The pain. Then nothing. And now—
This.
“No,” I said softly. “That’s not possible.”
I glanced around again. The pale lilac walls. The grand armoire carved with roses. The golden mirror near the window. My breath caught.
I knew this room.
No. I created this room.
My legs swung off the bed, toes touching the cold marble floor as I stood unsteadily. “Manon,” I whispered, still unsure if this was a prank or some elaborate hallucination. “What place is this? Where are we?”
She tilted her head, concerned. “The Kingdom of Velmoura, milady. We are in the western palace of Crown City.”
Velmoura.
My knees nearly gave out.
Velmoura was fictional. A world I had painstakingly built, piece by piece, for two years. A kingdom of power, magic, and betrayal, crafted from my imagination for the book The Crowned Prince and Me.
I’m inside my own story.
I stumbled back, my breath coming in short gasps. My head was spinning. I rushed to the vanity mirror, half-expecting to see blood, bruises, or maybe the broken version of myself that had laid helpless in a hospital bed.
But no.
What stared back at me was a face far too refined. My face… but ethereal. I looked like royalty. Regal waves of dark hair framed my face, and my eyes shimmered a color I swear I didn’t have before.
“Is this real?” I murmured to no one. “Am I dreaming?”
I pinched my arm.
“Ow.”
Nope. Definitely not a dream.
Suddenly, the old woman’s words echoed through my mind like a haunting whisper:
"You’ll die… but you’ll live again elsewhere. Where love awaits, but danger looms..."
So this is what she meant.
I backed away from the mirror, hands trembling. This world was never supposed to be real. It was just something I created, an escape. Fiction. But now, I was living in it. Breathing in it.
And I was no longer Cassandra Cortez.
I was Lady Seraphina.
Lead heroine of my novel. A future queen. And if I remembered my plot correctly… this world wasn’t just about royal balls and romance. It was filled with war, betrayal, and blood.
“I need to get out of here,” I said, my voice cracking.
But deep down, I knew… it wasn’t going to be that simple.
Because if the world I created was now my reality,
Then the story was no longer mine to control.
- Writer
