Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess

Ahcehera paused mid-stride, her posture straight and composed, waiting for the man to speak.

"Welcome back," he said, his voice sharp and devoid of warmth.

She tilted her head slightly, her expression neutral as her eyes studied him.

"It seems," he continued, his tone laced with accusation, "that you've been lying to me all this time, Your Highness."

Ahcehera's face betrayed no emotion. Her gaze remained steady. "Do I know you? Are we familiar with each other?"

The man's lips curved into a mocking smile, though it lacked genuine amusement. "By revealing your identity, do you think I'll fall for you?"

Her tone turned colder, cutting through his words. "When did you ever hear me say I wanted you to like me? And when did I say I liked you? Strange, I don't recall any such conversation, Major General Mors."

The smile faded from Richmond Mors' face. He stepped forward, his imposing height casting a shadow over her. His figure towered at least a foot above hers, yet she didn't flinch.

"Move back," she said flatly, a hand rising to her face. "I hate the smell of your perfume. It's suffocating, Major General."

Richmond's brows furrowed at her bluntness, his jaw tightening. "Stop playing games with me, Princess."

"I could say the same to you, Major General Mors. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Without waiting for his response, Ahcehera sidestepped him, her measured steps carrying her toward her office.

Richmond's frustration simmered visibly. Her indifference, her unflinching demeanor. It maddened him.

As she walked away, his hand instinctively reached out, intent on grabbing her wrist. But Ahcehera, anticipating his move, darted forward with practiced swiftness.

In a single fluid motion, she disappeared behind the office door, the sound of it locking echoing in his ears.

Richmond stood frozen in the hallway, his anger burning hotter with every second.

Ahcehera sat in her swivel chair, her fingers idly tracing the smooth edge of the armrest.

Her gaze wandered aimlessly around the office, but her mind churned with questions she couldn't answer.

Why was the hero waiting for me?

Her brows knitted together as she replayed the encounter in her mind. Richmond's cold yet accusing tone, the sadness lingering in his sharp eyes. It didn't align with anything she knew.

Why was there sadness in his eyes when he questioned and accused me of lying?

Her thoughts spiraled further, sinking into confusion.

Why wasn't this part mentioned in the original novel?

The office was quiet, except for the faint hum of electronics. Her heart, however, was anything but calm.

Why was he waiting for me?

He shouldn't have known I was the princess.

And even if he did, he shouldn't have cared.

Ahcehera leaned forward, pressing her palms onto the desk. Her eyes narrowed as a deeper question surfaced.

What exactly happened between him and the villainess princess?

Her gaze swept across the room, pausing as something caught her eye. Sitting atop her trophy case was a crystallized frame.

Its elegant edges sparkled faintly under the artificial light, but it wasn't its beauty that struck her, it was its contents.

Her breath hitched.

Impossible!

Ahcehera stood abruptly, crossing the room in hurried strides. Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the frame.

Two photographs were sealed within its glass.

The first was a group shot of seven people. She instantly recognized herself in the lineup, standing alongside Major General Mors.

Her heart pounded harder as her gaze shifted to the second photo.

It was just the two of them.

Ahcehera and Richmond stood close, smiling warmly at the camera, their expressions free and unguarded.

She stared at it, disbelief etched across her face.

Why are we together?

The image seemed to mock her. It contradicted everything she knew or thought she knew.

Her grip on the frame tightened as questions swirled in her mind like an unrelenting storm.

What kind of connection do we share? Why don't I remember this?

She bit her lip, frustration mixing with the growing sense of unease. Her life, once bound by the script of the novel she had known so well, was starting to feel unfamiliar.

The villainess princess had secrets she hadn't yet uncovered. Secrets that tied her to Richmond Mors in ways she couldn't yet comprehend.

-

Ahcehera's hands trembled slightly as she activated both of her optical brains. The room around her seemed to shrink as her focus narrowed on the screens.

She sifted through folders and files, desperate for any clue, anything that could reveal the fragments of the original villainess's forgotten past.

As she scrolled, an old news article from Starnet popped up, its headline catching her eye.

"Tragic Accident: Students Ambushed During Mission, Lives Lost."

Her breath hitched. She clicked on the link.

The article described an incident that happened ten years ago.

A group of military academy students on a mission outside the safety of their base had encountered a strange and deadly beast.

Three students had lost their lives, and the survivors were left severely injured.

Ahcehera's heart raced as she read the details, but the story abruptly ended with a confidentiality notice stamped by the military.

Why was this information buried?

She frantically searched through the data logs on her optical brain, digging deeper. Her pulse quickened when she found a hidden folder.

Its name was nondescript, but its contents held answers.

The villainess had been one of the injured survivors.

Ahcehera's eyes widened as the pieces started to align.

Ten years ago, the villainess was part of an elite group known as the Night Owls Squad, a top-performing team at Xizonrie First Military Academy. 

Her chest tightened as she opened another file. It contained a report on the squad members. Among them, two names stood out:

Riezekiel Mors and Mia Zandar.

The report stated that Riezekiel had died in the accident, sacrificing himself to save the villainess and Mia.

Ahcehera's heart sank as she stared at the screen.

Riezekiel Mors? Mors!

Her fingers flew across the controls, searching for any connection between Riezekiel and Richmond. The answer came in the form of an attached photo.

The image showed three children, their faces bright with innocent smiles.