Chapter 2: What?

"Prince. Please wake up, breakfast has been prepared." A voice sounded and echoed.

I slightly opened my eyes. A luxurious bed entered my eyes. Red velvet and silky smooth. But Prince? What was she talking about?

I felt light. I felt different. I felt like something was missing.

I woke up, my palm on my face. My face…

It was smooth. Too smooth to be mine.

The breakfast tray reflected my appearance.

A different person entered my eyes. A breathtakingly handsome person. White hair, red eyes. Wait, sounds familiar?

"Where am I?" I softly said. My voice. It was soft and light, like a melody. It seemed at odds with my newfound identity

"Did you have a nightmare, your royal highness? You are in your palace, the Ethereal Garden." The maid responded.

I immediately knew.

Those stuff that happened in novels I read.

Taking over their body.

I was now Polaris Sirius, the evil guy.

Well it was to be expected. All those body taking over shit. You would have to take over the body of a villain.

But no, a third rate villain would have been good. Like those novels <I became the villainess> or <I reincarnated into the sandbag villain>.

If I could choose, I would have chosen a third-rate villain role instead. But reality reflected my role as the main antagonist

I was the main villain.

And I was facing a regressor.

I mean come on.

Though it should have been a moment of shock, fear, and denial. At the very least, surprise.

But an unsettling calmness enveloped me.

Could it be…

Polaris Sirius, a person born without emotions, could I have inherited his traits?

"Prince? Are you well?" The voice sounded again.

"I am fine." I said, the voice as perfunctory as it could be.

In these situations, I must be scared, or start preparing to change the outcome of my life out of fear.

Or even strive to be a nice person so the regressor would not kill me.

The script demanded fear, resistance, and a struggle against the predetermined narrative.

But no. I literally felt nothing. Nothing.

No fear, no surprise, not rage, no denial.

Just nothing.

"You may leave now." I said softly. The maid nodded and left the room.

I slowly removed the cover of the breakfast that was now mine.

A plethora of food entered my view.

Cold cut meats, slices of fine breads, sausages, scrambled eggs and a small cup of lavender tea.

It was something I could only get in my dreams in the past.

But now that I have it….

This damned body doesn't feel anything.

I am pretty much feeling nothing thinking these.

It's pretty much a feeling of a void.

Just times of nothingness.

Well but days have to go on.

The repetitive days unfolded in monotony, every single day passing with a routine blander than any other.

Unlike what I originally thought. The prince's life was not at all good.

Not even decent.

Worse than my original life.

I had to navigate my princely duties with that emotional void. More so, I had to put up a show 24/7, quite the tiring task, no?

The grand palace and the expensive food that I once yearned for now meant nothing.

Why do you even need such fine food when you can not feel love or liking for it?

It was like a kid eating vegetables, specifically brussel sprouts.

It was as if the colorful hues of life had faded into a black white existence.

Breakfasts of the lavish delicacies became a rather mechanical routine.

Cold cut meats, slices of fine bread, sausages, and lavender tea graced upon my dining table, but the flavors failed to deliver.

I really did not feel anything. What a damned transmigration.

It was practically a feast for an appetite I no longer possessed.

The boring diplomatic affairs were navigated with such finesse from myself that should have been impossible for someone that was devoid of empathy.

Except it actually was possible.

Well, what can I say? I am proud of myself!

Except I can't feel shit.

The conversations flowed, but they were mere exchanges of words devoid of substance.

It was like wifi without the connection, and fries without salt. It did not quite click.

Well not that these can ever bother me.

Wait, speaking of which, can I even feel bothered?

I sure hope so. That it is actually feeling and not some imaginary feeling I got from going insane. But the latter has higher possibilities.

As the tedious mornings finally melted into the night, I finally had free time. I confronted the mirror, studying the face that was now mine.

White, silvery hair cascaded like moonlight, and crimson stars adorned my eyes.

However the visage of such beauty has failed the spark of life.

"So good looking for such a shitty trait." I said, the voice soft and calm. Well I spent the next ten minutes trying to bring an actual smile.

But only calculated and deep fake ones came. Argh, I am so frustrated! Well, except the frustration was self thought.

Since I can't feel shit.

This bloody body.

Take it back Polaris Sirius.