Chapter 7: (Aaira's pov)
16 July 2025

"Ouch," was all I could manage as I found myself suddenly thrown into this unfamiliar place. I had been trying to impress my lord as I was in the storeroom searching for that painting, when I heard voices emanating from a mirror. Intrigued, I approached it, only to be ensnared by its sparkling surface. Now, here I am.

As I lay on the floor, attempting to rise, I realized something had injured my leg. Upon inspection, I saw it was scratched. Surveying my surroundings, I noticed an array of peculiar objects scattered about the room. With great effort, I managed to stand and approached one of them-an object unlike anything I had ever encountered in the palace or elsewhere.

Aaira: Jungkook ?

All I could think about was how much I must be angering Jungkook. He must be furious. But surely, he loves me, right? He wouldn't harm me. I was just talking to Lord Yoongi, nothing more.

My heart raced as I attempted to call out for my lord, but the pain in my knee intensified with each step. Then, a ray of light pierced through a corner, and the door swung open. In walked an elderly man, his expression twisted with anger. He clenched his fist as he glared at me, and I stared back at him, utterly bewildered.

Aaira: Um, excuse me, sir.

Old man: What are you doing here, Y/n?

He suddenly started shouting at me, and what did he just call me? Y/n?

Aaira: No, no, I'm not Y/n. I'm Aaira, sir you must have mistook me.

Old man: Shut up and go to your room.

Aaira: But...

Old man: I said, Y/n, shut up and go to your room.

I tried to take steps towards him, but he only grew angrier.

Aaira: Sir, I'm Aaira, you're mistookig me for someone-

Old man: Not only did I tell you not to enter this place, but you also attended a party in those?

He pointed towards my clothes, and I glanced down to see if there was anything wrong, they seemed perfectly fine, oh there I see, so much dust particles. Going to the storeroom was a bad idea no doubt.

But, I shouldn't be talking to this man if I don't want to put him in any kind of danger. If my lord gets to know about it, he'll... he'll do something terrible.

Old man: GO TO YOUR ROOM NOW!!

He shouted and forcefully grabbed my hand, pulling me out into the blinding light. I struggled to adjust, my eyes half-open and half-closed as he continued to drag me.

Old man: Go to your room.

He pushed me into a room, leaving me confused and apprehensive. What was this old man up to? Was he here to kidnap me? Where am I?

Aaira: Listen, Sir, you can't talk to me like that, okay? I'm a princess.

Old man: Okay, so now you'll teach me how to talk to you and how not to talk to you? And princess and you ? Have you lost your mind, you're our daughter!

Aaira: You just don't know me. I'm not Y/n, I'm Aaira.

Old man: Shut up with your old fancy dress games, Y/n.

He walked out, leaving me seething with anger. Once I'm back at the palace, I'll bring Jungkook back here to deal with him.

Old man: We'll discuss it at the breakfast table.

He announced before slamming the door shut with a resounding bang. I quickly covered my ears and lay on the bed, wide-eyed with apprehension. As he left, anger surged through me, my blood boiling and my body heating up.

What the hell was happening to me? I swore to God, when my family or Jungkook's family found out about this, they would come and take me away. Just one day. Jungkook would get worried and come looking for me.

I just had to hold on until then, but with each passing moment, the fear and uncertainty gnawed at my resolve, threatening to overwhelm me. Where am I right now? And what must jungkook be doing? He must be frantic with worry by now in my absence.

With each passing second I was losing my patience, it was wearing so much more than thin. I rushed to the door, banging on it desperately, tears welling up in my eyes. Where am I? What's happening?

Aaira: My lord, open the door! Jungkook?!

I continued banging on the door until I heard heavy footsteps approaching in the corridor. The door swung open, and before I could react, I felt a sharp slap across my cheek. I turned to see the old man standing there. He was truly digging his own grave.

Old man: Sleep!!

As he once again closed the door in my face, I couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration. How harsh of him. I sat on the floor, a pout forming on my lips. I couldn't believe he had actually slapped me. Where are you, Jungkook? Why am I here?

Aaira: JEON JUNGKOOK!

I couldn't hold back the tears any longer as they streamed down my face. Where am I? What am I supposed to do now? It's becoming so hard to even breathe. My mind is in turmoil. Where am I? Jungkook, please, come for me.

Suddenly, I heard a weird sound that startled me. There was a peculiar noise coming from the room. What was it? I looked around, heart pounding, and my gaze landed on the bed where a rectangular-shaped object was emitting light.

My eyes widened as I watched it, transfixed. It was showing vibrant colors, and the shapes inside were moving. I felt a chill run down my spine. What was this strange object? I had never seen anything like it in my life.

Curiosity mingled with fear as I cautiously approached the bed. The glowing rectangle continued to display a series of moving images, and I couldn't tear my eyes away. Hesitantly, I reached out to touch it, my fingers trembling. The surface was cool and smooth, nothing like the mirrors or lanterns I was familiar with.

I poked it lightly, and the images changed, morphing into different shapes and colors. I stepped back, almost falling over in my haste. This thing was alive! It had to be some kind of sorcery. My heart raced, and I looked around the room, searching for any sign of explanation. There was none. Just me and this bizarre object.

Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself.

Aaira: Okay, Aaira.

I muttered under my breath.

Aaira: You've dealt with worse. Just figure out what this is.

I gingerly picked up the rectangular object, feeling its weight in my hands. It seemed harmless enough, yet it held a strange power that unnerved me. I turned it over, inspecting it from all angles. There were no visible mechanisms, no gears or wheels like the contraptions in the palace.

I carefully placed it back on the bed and sat down, watching it intently. The images continued to change, showing people and places that made no sense to me. They seemed so real, yet I knew they couldn't be. Was this some kind of magical window?

The sound it emitted was soft but constant, adding to the surreal atmosphere. I took another deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. This place was filled with things beyond my understanding, and I needed to be careful. I had to figure out how to survive here until I could return to my real life, to Jungkook and the palace.

Suddenly, it started sounding loud! The unexpected noise made me jump, and I almost dropped the object. The sound was piercing, almost as if it was calling for attention. I stared at it, wide-eyed, as the screen displayed the word "Love" It showed a heart symbol and some numbers, all unfamiliar to me.

What was this thing? I was torn between intense curiosity and a deep-seated fear. I hesitated to touch it, worried it might be dangerous. After a moment, the screen went blank again, leaving me in silence. Just as I started to relax, it lit up once more.

This time, I saw something that made my heart stop-my own picture appeared on the screen. How was this possible? I stared at it in disbelief, feeling a mix of confusion and unease. I leaned closer, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

The image of myself on the screen was one I didn't remember taking, dressed in clothes that were unfamiliar. How could this strange object have a picture of me? The longer I looked, the more questions I had.

My hand hovered over the screen, trembling slightly. I couldn't help but wonder if this object held more secrets about this world. Tentatively, I touched the screen again. The image changed, revealing more shapes and symbols that I couldn't decipher.

I decided to handle the object cautiously, not wanting to trigger any more strange occurrences. As I carefully held it, preparing to set it down on the table, the screen suddenly illuminated with notifications. Messages from someone named "Love" began popping up rapidly.

They were pleading messages, apologetic and remorseful, mentioning things like "pick up the call" and "I'm sorry for earlier, I shouldn't have proposed to you, Y/n. I feel guilty." The device continued to buzz and chime with each new message, intensifying the eerie atmosphere in the room.

Unable to comprehend what was happening and overwhelmed by the strange technology and these unexpected messages, I hastily placed the device back on the table. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I retreated to a corner of the room, clutching my knees to my chest.

Fear gripped my heart as I wondered if this was some kind of trap or test. How could this object know my face and how could it show messages meant for someone named Y/N? Without letter without anything?

As I lay on the strange bed, tears kept rolling down my cheeks. I felt confused, scared, and lonely. How could that old man slap me like that? His hand's sting on my cheek still hurts. I missed Jungkook so much; And Aimin, my son I missed him too.

I curled up beside the door, despite the discomfort, hoping against hope that jungkook would come to my rescue. But he didn't.

***
17 July 2025

As the morning sun began to filter through the room, I tried to shield my eyes from its harsh light, I struggle to open my eyes completely. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Who could it be? Jungkook?

I quickly stood up, giving the other person space to enter. But it wasn't Jungkook. It was an old woman, her face adorned with a gentle smile. She approached me and checked my fever.

Old woman: What happened, sweetie? You have a slight fever.

Aaira: Huh?

Old woman: Let's sit down here.

She gently guided me to the bed and sat beside me.

Old woman: Look, Y/n, your father...

Aaira: Aaira, My name is Aaira, please call me that.

Old woman: Y/n, please stop with this drama. Your father was angry enough with you. Now, please, rest. You're sick. I'll bring you breakfast, and then you can take your medicine.

Aaira: How am I supposed to eat with you guys, who are you even? Please, summon him here.

Old woman: You've gone mad, Y/n. Fever is affecting your brain. And what's with your clothes? Take them off; you're home now.

Aaira: What's wrong with my clothes? I suggest you wear the same.

She placed a hand on her forehead, clearly exasperated.

Old woman: Y/n, right now, change into something else, or wait here.

She disappeared into another door within the room and returned with some pieces of fabric in her hand-colorful, uncomfortable, short fabric. Handing them to me, she sat back down on the bed beside me.

Aaira: How am I supposed to change into these? They're vulgar.

Old woman: Vulgar?

Aaira: Yes, short and... and no tail, no corset.

Old woman: Y/n...

Aaira: My lord would be angry if he sees me in one, please try to understand Ma'am.

She suddenly stood up, grabbing a vase from the nightstand and slamming it near me on the floor, I startled clearly not okay with the fact that it was about to hit me.

Old woman: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, Y/N?!

Aaira: Don't shout, Old Lady.

She slapped me hard, my jaw shifted to a side it was harsh, I poked a tongue inside my cheek, what was up with this couple ? Tears welled up in my eyes. Just wait till this evening Jungkook will come to take me.

Old woman: Have you freaking lost your mind? You call your mother an old lady?

Aaira: You have no right to- YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER!

I shouted, Why would she call herself my mother, who is she to claim me as her daughter, with what right ? The old woman's eyes widened with fear or some emotion I couldn't quite process, she hesitated, her eyes still opening big as her hands trembled a little.

Old woman: I'm your freaking mother, do you understand that? I'M YOUR FREAKING MOTHER!

She seemed desperate to assert it, to make me obey, but she couldn't be my mother. She's not my mother, I clearly remember my mother looked so young, She had crimson Hairs, green eyes, Pale colour, no wrinkles on her face, but this lady was opposite of it. My mother was far better, far more refined in her lifestyle.

Aaira: YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER. I'M NOT FALLING FOR WHATEVER YOU'VE PLANNED, YOU UNDERSTOOD? I'M NOT A FREAKING TWO YEAR OLD WHO DOESN'T KNOW WHO IS MY MOTHER AND WHO IS NOT!

I screamed on the top of my lungs, as loud as i could say it for her to hear it.

Old Woman: You are my daughter, Y/n, My daughter.

There was something psychotic in her eyes.

Old woman: Y/n, My baby, what's wrong with you?

Aaira: I'm not Y/n. I'm Aaira, Lady Jeon Aaira, Lord Jeon Jungkook's wife, why don't you understand?

I felt my face again shifted to a side as I felt stinging pain right across my left cheek, she did it again. She slapped me again.

Old woman: Shut up, Shut up, Shut up! Who's your lord? You're our daughter, our Y/n, not Aaira. And you're not married to anyone. You get it ?

Her voice was slightly cracked.

Aaira: Try... Try to understand.

Tears streamed down my face, and I looked down, trying to hide them from her. I couldn't believe this was the third time I had been slapped since last night. I tried to hold my breath to stop the tears from falling, but nothing worked.

The old woman reached out to touch me, but I jerked her hand away, unable to bear any more of their harsh treatment. The slap stung, but what hurt more was their refusal to see me as who I really was. They insisted I was someone named Y/N, their daughter, but I knew deep down I was Aaira, Jungkook's wife.

The confusion and frustration boiled inside me, but I knew I had to keep my composure. Deep breaths, Aaira. Focus on getting back to Jungkook. That was my only thought, my only hope in this bewildering nightmare.

Old woman: You're not understanding, Y/N. Now, go and change into them and stop this royal act.

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, each drop carrying with it a mix of anger and despair. They were all the same-just like him, and even my own mother. She used to tell me there were better people in the world, but where were they when I needed them?

Where was someone like Annabelle, who never raised her voice at me, never cursed my existence, never demanded I conform to their expectations? She was different. She was kind, I'm glad she was not a human.

And now, surrounded by these people who claimed to know me, who claimed I was someone I wasn't, I couldn't help but hate them all. They weren't my family. They weren't my home.

I took the dress from the bed and closed the closet door loudly. Changing into these clothes felt pointless. It didn't matter if I wore them or not; I still felt the same. Standing in front of the mirror, I pulled at the fabric nervously, feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed.

When I turned away from the mirror to find something else in the closet, I noticed a framed photo of a girl smiling widely. I went closer and touched the frame gently. The smile in the photo looked like mine, and so did the eyes, teeth, cheeks, nose, lips, smile, and hair.

But it didn't feel like me. The happiness in that picture felt distant and strange. It was labeled as "Y/n". This confused me and made my head ache. I rolled my eyes and continued looking for a dress that felt more like something I would wear. Finally, I found one-a gown in green. It wasn't perfect, but it would work.

I put on the gown and sat back on the bed, waiting for my lord to come and save me from this evil old couple. They were under the impression that I was their daughter, but I wasn't her, right? I was Aaira, Mrs. Jeon Aaira.

I sat in my usual posture-back straight, looking straight ahead, with a poker face. One leg rested over the other, hands on my knee. I made sure to wear the locket Jungkook had gifted me.

The door opened again, but I didn't bother to look. I continued staring straight ahead until someone stood in front of me. It was Y/n's mother.

Old woman: What are you wearing, Y/n? Have you lost your mind?

Aaira: I haven't lost my mind yet, but I will very soon.

Old woman: Shut up and change your clothes now. You're not in a palace; you can't wear that here.

Aaira: Why are you forcing me to do things?

Old woman: I said go change into what I gave you.

Aaira: You're just so stubborn.

Old woman: I'm stubborn?

She started pulling my ear. Ow. I'm again and again getting physically assaulted by this old couple, I'm for real not leaving this old evil couple be like that, once I'm back to my palace.

Aaira: Ouch, ouch! What are you doing?

Old woman: Go change now!

She pushed me back into the same closet, leaving me with no other option but to change into those vulgar dresses. I hated it. Once again, I changed into them, futilely hoping they would magically lengthen, but they remained short.

I returned to the room and resumed my seat with the same posture. They were giving me a headache, and they thought I was a fool who would believe I was their daughter, Y/n.

Lying on the bed with my eyes open and my hands resting on the bed, I felt lost. Unsure of what to do, I walked to the door and peeked outside, checking if anyone was there.

Seeing no one, I seized the chance to escape. Quickly, I made my way downstairs, but my hopes were dashed when I saw the old man seated on the sofa. He looked at me and gestured for me to come sit in front of him, I ignored him and tried to walk out of the door.

Old man: I SAID COME HERE, Y/N!

He shouted.

Aaira: Why?

He clenched his fist, and I realized that if I wanted to return to my palace, I needed to comply with him and his wife. I begrudgingly went and sat in front of him. He glanced at me briefly before returning his attention to his newspaper.

As I sat there, his stern gaze bore into me, demanding an explanation. He asked.

Old man: What did you say to my wife?

I squared my shoulders,

Aaira: I told her I'm not your daughter.

I replied, He leaned forward, he quickly stood up and without a warning I got another slap, I kept looking down. Trying to breathe normally, it was too much for today.

Old man: Why would you say such a thing?

His tone was more curious than accusatory,

Aaira: Because it's the truth.

I asserted, he thinks just because he slapped me, I would be scared of him.

Old man: What did you say to the mother?

He asked again, abruptly, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. I looked at him, unsure of how to respond at first. Then, gathering my courage, I replied again the same thing.

Aaira: I told her I'm not your daughter.

His reaction was immediate and unexpected. He visibly stiffened, his fists tightening even more. A cold sweat seemed to form on his brow, and he avoided meeting my gaze.

Aaira: Why should I accept what I am not?

I continued, I could sense his unease growing, his demeanor shifting from authority to uncomfortable in an instant. He finally looked up.

Old man: You have no right to say such things.

He retorted sharply,

Old man: You are here because you're our daughter. You owe us your respect and obedience.

Aaira: Respect and obedience are earned, not demanded, I will not pretend to be someone I'm not, no matter the consequences.

Old man: Who are you then?

He asked again.

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"They tried to mold me into someone I wasn't, but I resisted with all my will."

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