Blue sky without a single cloud, shining sun illuminating the day as well as the streets of Demetria where countless people were busy preparing for the Pradera Festival that would be held in 5 days.

It was a perfect day to go out and see the city at its busiest. It was a great day to do nothing, simply lie down in a park or sit near a fountain and appreciate the sensation of sundays on the skin. Days like these were made for fun and idleness, they were not made for exercise. At least that was Hazel's opinion on the matter.

Instead of the stroll and day of rest she had planned, she had been dragged to the training ground by Angela and some guy who only introduced himself as Alen Norcrest before he flung her over his shoulder like she was a potato sack.

She would have voiced her outrage if she had thought it would amount to anything. They were probably dragging her to one of Hazel Vedar's carefully scheduled activities that she couldn't miss since OG Hazel 'would never slack off'.

Hazel was starting to think that the villainess was a workaholic. Not that she was one to talk, she basically lived in the library herself, but that Vedar girl was on a whole new level.

The days before, she had had the honor of getting a glimpse of the young lady's usual schedule. It was not made for a normal human. The woman woke up at 4am, trained for 2 hours before breakfast, then she got ready for a day of studying various subjects before lunch, she inspected the personnel and the manor everyday, then she worked and trained some more, after which she read her letters and answered to the numerous invitations she received.

Hazel didn't feel like a single day was long enough for one person to cram so much in it. Thankfully, Sophie and Angela had relieved her of the noble lady's duties as they overtook most of her tasks. That was probably the reason why she had only been able to see them in passing the last few days. Most of her time was spent learning and rehearsing the different rules of etiquette depending on the location and context, as well as learning about this world and how Prath's society worked.

She hadn't had the time to properly rest and felt like her body was so sore, she could collapse at any moment. When she had mentioned it to Sophie, the woman had only given her an empty fake smile, dismissing her worries. After that, she hadn't even bothered complaining again, she already knew what the lady-in-waiting would say.

She didn't know how to feel about the woman. The first days, Sophie had been really nice and attentive, affectionate even. However, when she realized that her 'Miss Hazel' had been displaced in another world and replaced by a namesake, the woman became colder than an Arctic glacier.

The way she treated Hazel, it almost felt like she blamed her for the situation, like she believed Hazel had wanted this to happen, or worse she had made it happen. Hazel wanted to defend herself but Sophie hadn't given her the opportunity to do so. Their interactions usually lasted less than 5 minutes and mostly consisted of Sophie interrogating her about her origins, what she knew of Prath and how she was progressing in her classes.

One had to be blind not to see the distrust the shorter woman exhibited. It was more than distrust, Hazel could see that the other woman didn't like her.

She didn't really know how to react to that piece of information. Hazel couldn't really blame her, she was a stranger who came out of nowhere and was parasitizing her friend's body. Hazel felt patient and understanding enough to let it go for the moment and accept the undeserved scorn.

As for Angela, the red-haired woman hadn't changed much after she realized Hazel wasn't the duke's daughter. If she had the same distrust as Sophie, either Hazel hadn't noticed or Angela was better at hiding it.

In any case, Angela was more frequently around than Sophie was. Angela helped her get ready in the morning, she often checked up on her during the day and she was the last face Hazel saw before going to bed.

The redhead often left her alone or with other staff members, but she was the only one who actually spoke to her. The servants tended to avoid her path or gaze as best as they could. When she entered a room, she'd often catch a few maid discreetly retreat or not so subtly scamper away. It didn't help that she couldn't really speak to anyone for too long for fear of them realizing that she wasn't Hazel Vedar.

Not speaking to anyone was fine by Hazel, it allowed her to observe people. In the few days she had spent here, she had become an excellent people-watcher. She noticed the servants watching her anxiously when they thought she was distracted, she observed a few of them whispering quietly to each other before they took notice of her presence. It seemed Hazel Vedar instilled fear in the hearts of many, anytime she entered a room, you could hear a pin drop.

Hazel wasn't really miffed about it. She had never been a huge fan of people and them leaving her alone meant no one would violate her personal perimeter uninvited. It also meant she didn't have to pretend, she could just go about her business.

That's exactly what she had wanted to do when she had left Lian's lessons, she had still had an hour left before her dance class and she wanted to take advantage of the rare free time to take a nap and hopefully rid herself of the headache that had started to bludgeon her temples this morning. However, her plans had been thwarted, before she could reach her room, she had been hoisted up a man's shoulder and carried outside the mansion.

The man, Alen, put her back down near a small shed, and proceeded to take out various weapons. Hazel could see swords, daggers, bows and arrows.

"Are you going to torture me out in the open?" Hazel half joked.

"Don't be stupid," was Angela's answered with a small eyeroll. "If we wanted to hurt you, you wouldn't even have seen it coming."

"Hello Miss Hazel bis," he waved. "You have in front of you, your new combat and weaponry professor. Alen Norcrest, at your service." he introduced himself again, this time with more decorum.

In the novel, Alen Norcrest was Hazel Vedar's knight and the illegitimate son of marquis Norcrest. He was the first one to fall in love with Rianon out of all her conquests. He eventually chose to leave Hazel Vedar's side after her persecution of the heroine got too bad. Even without having read the ending, Hazel knew Rianon wouldn't end up with him no matter how much or for how long he had loved her. In her eyes, he was a pitiful character, always pining for her, only to get crumbs of affection.

While reading Amy's manuscript, Hazel hadn't felt much for Alen Norcrest. He was the archetype of the protective knight who never gets the princess. Out of the four potential love interests, he was the nicest but also least interesting. Hazel felt like his route would have ended with him sacrificing his life for Rianon or him deciding to become her guard to protect her for the rest of her life without ever confessing his feelings.

Sad. And kind of pathetic.

"Interim professor," Angela corrected. "I'm still looking for someone more competent."

"You won't find anyone better. I guarantee it," Alen defended.

"I already have a long list in my room. Even the last one is better than you."

"Then why did you give me the job then? Because you know I'm the best," he countered, smug.

"No. It was to buy me some time while I vet the others."

"Would it kill you to say something nice for once?"

"Yes, it actually might," she snickered.

"You're unbelievable!"

"And you are unbelievably annoying."

Before they could launch another round of insults at each other, Hazel intervened.

"Hum... Not that I want to interrupt whatever this is, but why am I here?"

"To learn how to be Miss Hazel," was Alen's enthusiastic reply.

"Which is what I've been doing for the last 4 days while trusting to find a way to get me back home. And I'm starting to think that was a mistake because I've been doing my work but I've yet to hear anything from you. Are you even looking or....?"

"Of course we are," Angela glared. "If you stopped complaining for a few minutes, maybe you'd realise how easy we're making things for you, I'm certain Miss Hazel is having a worse time adapting to your shabby commoner life."

"Hey! My life is a delight. And you say 'commoner' like it's supposed to be an insult, just so you know, nobles didn't fare so well in my home country."

"Ugh... you're giving me a headache. Just do as you're told and you'll get home in one piece."

Not waiting for the retord Hazel was preparing to fully form, Angela left the two of them standing there and took a seat in the bleachers.

"She's all yours Mr. Professor."

Hazel turned to the man, ready to take her growing irritation out on the nearest victim. Alen's gaze was fixated on her face, fascinated. She had felt his eyes on her for a while now but she had previously chosen to ignore it.

"So", Alen started, excitedly shifting from one foot to another. "You're a bodysnatcher?"

He was observing her as though trying to find the differences between her and Hazel Vedar.

He was cute and in a different setting she'd appreciate the attention, but right now, she'd rather not be under a microscope, especially when the face he was looking at wasn't hers.

"I didn't exactly snatch her body so much as I...fell into it..."

"And how does it feel to be in Miss Hazel's body?"

"Ew! Don't be creepy, Al," the red haired woman shouted from the bleachers.

"I didn't mean it like that!", he exclaimed, embarrassed while Angela kept snickering.

"At first I was a bit weirded out by the whole thing, but I got used to it pretty fast," Hazel shrugged, as she put on the leather gloves handed to her by Alen. "Since I don't have a mirror most of the time it doesn't really feel like I was in another person's body. Well... sometimes I get surprised by an unfamiliar strand of hair wandering in front of my eyes, by the length of my fingers or even by the voice coming out as I speak."

Before she was done with her tirade, she had gotten ready for whatever Angela and him had planned to make her do. She still wasn't particularly enthusiastic about having to add one more thing to an already busy schedule, but she figured she didn't have much of a choice.

"Freaky...," was Alen's inspired response to her observations.

"I concur," the redhead commented once again.

"Okay, I'm ready. Let's get this over with."

Grabbing the first object she could get her hands on, Hazel brandished a small dagger.

"Wow! Let's calm down, this is not a toy and you obviously do not know how to properly hold it." He immediately removed the dagger from her hand and placed it back in the pile. "Let us start with the weapon Miss Hazel was the most familiar with," he smiled, handing her a large bow. "It's not hers, of course, she wouldn't let anyone touch it. But this one will do."

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Use it," he replied like it was obvious.

When he saw her try and fail to properly hold the object, Alen seemed to get the hint that she had no idea what she was doing.

"You hold it like this," he instructed, placing her hands on the bowstring and raising her elbow. "And then you shoot. Just let your body guide you. Miss Hazel has been shooting the bow since she was 7 years old. These movements are ingrained in her body."

'Maybe he's right,' Hazel thought. 'Etiquette wasn't that hard to learn because this body was already used to it. It might be the same for the bow.'

Galvanized by Alen's words of reassurance, she confidently stretched the string and released. The arrow departed from the weapon and sliced the air, only to fall a few centimeters from her feet, far far away from the target.

"Bahahahhahahaha! Oh Pradma Hafta! That was pathetic."

Embarrassment and shame took over Hazel's entire body. Angela was right, it was pathetic. And humiliating. If the ground were to open and swallow her whole, she would welcome it with open arms.

"O...kay~That was not what I expected. First we need to correct your stance."

Alen took pity on her and proceeded to show her the right stance, from the way she placed her feet to the positions of her finger. As he corrected, the placement of her arms and legs, they talked a bit about her world.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I am."

"How can you not have mana in that world of yours? How does your magic work then?"

"Simple. We don't have magic."

Alen was looking at her like she had just told him she had just told him that she came from a world where buildings were made of cotton candy and caterpillars smoked pot.

"But... But how? Mana is life! Without Pradma Hazn's breath how are you even...alive?", he asked, arms flailing in her direction.

"Well... Pradma Hazn isn't really a thing in my world. We do have religion, several in fact, but I'm not really—"

"So you are not named after Pradma Hazn like Miss Hazel?"

Hazel recognized the name. It was one of the 2 Goddesses worshipped by Pratheen. From what Lian had told her this morning, Pradma Hazn was the goddess of life and fertility, and her counterpart, Pradma Hafta, was the goddess of death and destruction.

In this world, history, religion and mythology were tightly linked, to the point that it was hard to decipher what truly happened from the religious mumbo jumbo. These complex elements did not appear in Amy's manuscript, of course. Apart from the status of Riannon as a saintess candidate and a few mentions of the Havana Temple, she hadn't really lingered much on world-building.

"Nope. My mom gave me that name because her most recurring craving when she was pregnant was hazelnuts, which I find particularly ironic since I'm allergic to them."

"Your world is crazy! Tell me more!"

"What do you want to know?", Hazel asked, amused.

"Everything!" He said, eyes full of curiosity.

"Can we move on? I thought you were going to prepare her for the hunt, not talk my ears off," Angela interveened from her seat in the bleachers.

"And I knew you were going to be a killjoy. You're so much more fun when you're drunk, you know that?"

"I wasn't drunk! I was only pretending so Miss Hazel wouldn't feel embarrassed."

"Oh really? Because I heard that you almost drowned in your own vomit the next morning."

"Who told you? I know Sophie would never." She immediately turned toward Hazel, her eyes squinted in suspicion. "Was it you?"

"I didn't say anything. I've never met this man before today."

"Nobody told me, I simply asked and you just gave me confirmation. I have to admit I am a bit disappointed, I thought you of all people could handle your alcohol better than that. I thought you and I were both people of the night."

"Don't lump me with the likes of you."

"It pains me Angie, I feel like I've been abandoned. Not everyone can be a good drinker."

"Says the guy who was so drunk he cried saying he'd never find love because the waitress refused to elope with him."

"I'm not ashamed. I cry when I'm denied love because I'm a romantic, not an emotionless brick like you."

"Romantic isn't exactly the word I would use to describe you. Troublemaker, yes, but romantic, no."

"I am not a troublemaker, I am just—"

"A pain?"

"a free spirit!"

"I'd say a handful."

"Good thing nobody asked you then."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

"Idiot."

"Takes one to know another."

Tired of their childish bickering, Hazel chose this moment to try and excuse herself.

"Not that your little chit chat is not riveting, but you're annoying. I can't concentrate with you yapping in my ears like 2 puppies barking at each other."

"It's not like it'll change anything whether we're silent or not~"

"Listen Angela, I'm not doing this because I want to. If you want I can leave you to your... antagonistic flirtation and we can resume tomorrow when I'll be less tired and you'll have gotten whatever is between the 2 of you out of your system."

"Flirta— Ew! Never!"

"Don't sound so disgusted! I'll have you know, I'm a catch."

"Whatever," Angela rolled her eyes. She then turned to Hazel, "The hunt is in a week and seeing your skills, you better start now."

"If I suck that much I can also not participate. Have you thought about that option?"

The two Pratheens looked at each other then at Hazel before exploding in laughter.

"Hahahahahahaha! That's a good one!" Angela said in between bouts of laughter. "Miss Hazel? Not participating in the Pradera hunt? Nah."

The pradera hunt was the second event of the Pradera festival. Hazel had briefly been told that the festival served 2 purposes : the first was to celebrate spring through praises to Pradma Havn, and the end of winter by appeasing Pradma Hafta, and the second was to commemorate the founding of the Empire and the Temple. It was kind of a mixture between Christmas and a national holiday for Pratheens.

"Then I can just take it easy. It's not like I have to win, right?" Hazel reasonned.

"Hazel Vedar doesn't take it easy. She wins. And by a landslide," was Alen's pride-filled response.

Angela nodded fervently in agreement with the statement and added, "And then she drinks the tears of the losers."

[Miss Hazel this, Miss Hazel that! Now I'm getting tired of hearing my own name.] Hazel internally sighed. [Of all the people in this world I had to exchange souls with a competitive overachiever.]

"Here is the problem though, there is no way I'll get good enough to win in just a week."

"That's why I'm here," the young knight stepped in.

"Even with your help, it's still impossible."

"You'll see. Give me two hours and I'll make you as good as a pro archer," he bragged, puffing his chest confidently.

Two hours later, they were still there and Hazel didn't look anything like a pro archer. If the numerous arrows at her feet were any indication, she sucked just as much as she did when she started.

"Raise your elbow higher."

"Like this?"

"A little higher."

For the first time since she started, the arrow reached the target. It was not a bullseye but she was getting there.

"What do you think?"

"Hm, the score I'd give you is 100," he clapped, enthusiastically.

"Really!? I'm finally getting it!"

"I meant to say 100 out of a million!"

Angela was on the sidelines dying of laughter. She didn't even bother hiding her hilarity.

"You're really bad at this!" The redhead had said.

"Thank you for the astute observation. It's really what I need to get better."

If only she was a better shot, Angela would be running for her life.

Irritated by the mockery, Hazel tried again, only for the arrow to land at her feet once again.

"How did I manage to regress?"

Her frustration had reached new heights and Angela was now choking in laughter while Alen rubbed his temples.

"I'm sorry to say this, but it might be helpless..."

"You're giving up on me already? Alen? I thought you'd make me a pro archer," Hazel whined.

"I'm sorry... I can't create miracles."

Just as he finished saying that, they heard the sound of an arrow hitting a target a few meters away from them. They all turned to sound, to find none other than Rianon Brecht, holding a very large silver and black wooden bow. Even from her position, Hazel could see the purple accents etched in the wood.

"Isn't that...?"

"Miss Hazel's bow!" Angela finished his sentence. "How dare she touch something that doesn't belong to her!"

Before she could run and tear Rianon's throat out, Angela was stopped by Alen who held her in place, attempting, not without difficulties, to calm the enraged woman.

"Don't do anything stupid Angie."

"But she—"

"I know. Believe me, you don't want to go there. We have company," he said, chin slightly pointing to the dark-haired maid accompanying Rianon.

Rianon shot once more, hitting the bullseye again.

Hazel observed, trying to find fault in her stance. The Rianon she had read about wasn't much of a fighter, she had rarely used the offensive side of her water magic in the novel. There were no mentions of her learning the bow either.

Hazel had long deluded herself, but this was one more nail in the coffin, the novel was obviously an unreliable account to hold onto. It did get some things right but most of the characters she had encountered were totally different from the way they acted in the story. Rianon was a particularly glaring example of that, she almost acted like a villainess.

Placing another arrow on the bow, Rianon lifted the bow again, ready to shoot. Her arms trembled a bit when lifting the large arc but apart from that everything seemed perfect, just the way Alen had shown earlier. She wielded the weapon like it was hers.

The brown-haired woman, as though aware of the attention she garnered, looked in their direction apathetically. With a small smirk meant for Hazel, she shot one more arrow before exiting the training ground, leaving behind her, a seething Angela and two confused people.

"Is she participating in the hunt too?" Hazel asked worriedly.

"I think those 4 arrows mean yes, she is."

Great! After threatening to cut her tongue the day before, Rianon, who apparently had a killer aim, was going to have the chance to shoot her and get away with it.

[Lucky me!]