I was reading a novel when I suddenly found myself transmigrating.
Not as the villainess, nor as the heroine, but as the beloved doll of a black-hearted nobleman.
I awoke in the body of a doll — not even human.
Every night, I was forced to listen to the grumblings and confessions of the novel’s shadowy mastermind, Keris Layton.
At first, I thought of him only as the villain. But the more I listened, the more I realized there were reasons for his darkness. Perhaps he wasn’t such a terrible person after all.
As the only person to whom he could entrust his secrets, I began to wish that I could help him.
But I was only a doll.
“If only you were a real person instead.”
The moment I heard those words, I found myself wishing for the same thing.
The next morning, I awoke as a human.
When Keris found me lying in his bed, he was astonished.
How could I possibly explain the sudden appearance of an unfamiliar woman in the chamber of a feared dark lord?
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