The rattling of the huge carriage jolted me awake. I must have dozed off. I couldn't really blame myself; I was utterly exhausted. Today, I was most probably going to be beheaded.

For a while now, I’d been wondering if life was passing me by, or just trying to run me over. You're probably puzzled about my impending death, but hear me out. Where should I begin? From the time I got sucked into a weird whirlpool in my school's washbasin and ended up in this rotten, middle-aged world? Or when I was caught by human traffickers and sold as a housemaid?

Either way, I was screwed the moment I was sold to the Ronales' dukedom. Let me tell you, the house of Duke Ronales was the filthiest turd-bag family in history. They were like a massive S&M family who enjoyed the plight of the less fortunate, using whips, masks, and high heels that would grind into your skin if faults were found.

Being from the modern feminist era, fueled by caffeine, sarcasm, and attitude, I couldn't take all their shit at first. But I quickly learned: if I wanted to survive, I needed to keep my head stooped low and be as low-key as possible. And so, I, Zylith Sanders, A.K.A Lithe, became an inconspicuous servant girl who hailed from the shittiest family of nobles. Or at least, I was two weeks ago. I still curse that blasted day when I set foot into Duke Maddox Ronales’s tearoom and accidentally overheard an argument between the Duke and his eldest daughter, Elizabeth Rosalinda Ronales.