Observing Hera''s doll-like appearance, Athena, a small figure herself, marveled at the sight, realizing that real people could indeed resemble dolls.


    "Would you like some candy?" Athena offered, her innocence radiating.


    Though Hera knew that mere sweets couldn''t dispel her sorrow, she appreciated Athena''s kindness. epting the candy, Hera sat beside Athena in silence, finding sce in each other''s silentpanionship.


    "What''s your name?" Athena inquired, eager to forge a connection with the captivating girl beside her.


    "Hera" came the melodious reply, echoing in Athena''s ears.


    Upon hearing her name, Athena''s astonishment was palpable. Unintentionally, her mouth fell open, causing her lollipop to tumble to the ground. "You said, Hera? Hera Avery?The sole heiress to the Avery Consortium?" Athena sought confirmation.


    In response, Hera nodded, her expression a mix of confusion and surprise. She had yet to grasp the significance of Athena''s mention of the consortium.


    "Woah! You are really pretty."


    "T-thank you"


    "So, your parents..." Athena began to say, but she halted mid-sentence. She recognized that mentioning them would only exacerbate Hera''s pain.


    Hera''s head drooped even further upon the mention of her parents, tears threatening to spill. Witnessing her distress, Athena felt a mixture of surprise and sympathy.


    "I''m sorry, I shouldn''t have brought it up," Athena apologized softly.


    Hera shook her head slightly. "It''s alright," she murmured.


    With heartfelt sincerity, Athena extended an offer, "Would you like to be my friend, Hera?"


    Meeting Athena''s gaze, Hera lifted her head and nodded, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes.


    "Then, Hera, as my friend, would you believe me if I told you that I''m a transmigrator?" Athena ventured, her tone tinged with a hint of uncertainty.


    Puzzled, Hera''s head tilted to the side. "What''s a transmigrator?" she inquired.


    "It means I came from a different world; I''m not originally from this one," Athena exined, her voice carrying a childlike innocence that might lead others to dismiss her words as mere imagination.


    Intrigued, Hera momentarily set aside her sorrow. "Then, what world did youe from?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.


    With a sense of pride, Athena dered, "I came from Earth."


    Hera''s confusion deepened. "But isn''t this Earth we''re living on?"


    Athena paused, considering how to articte her exnation. "Ah, right, it is. What I mean is, that I came from the real Earth. The world we''re currently inhabiting is merely a fragment of imagination—a world confined within the pages of a book," she rified.


    Perplexed, Hera sought further rification. "What do you mean, a world inside a book?"


    "I mean precisely that. In my world, this world is nothing more than a romance novel that people read. I encountered your story once, which is how I knew about Hera Avery," Athena elucidated.


    Now that Athena had brought it up, Hera reflected on their initial encounter. She recalled how she had been veiled, shielding her face from view, ensuring her identity remained hidden while attending the funeral and faced with the attendees, and only now did she take off the veil. Despite this precaution, Athena had managed to recognize her nheless.


    "Then, what kind of character am I in the book?" Hera inquired with hopeful anticipation.


    Athena hesitated, uncertain how to broach the subject delicately in front of Hera. "Um..."


    "Am I the princess? Did... did my parentse back to life?" Hera''s eyes shimmered with expectation.


    Athena nervously scratched the back of her head before responding, "They did not. Although you are indeed the princess of the Avery family, you''re portrayed as a mere ''cannon fodder'' in the story."


    "What''s a cannon fodder?" Hera inquired, her voice tinged with confusion.


    "It means... it''s a term used for a character who''s often sacrificed or meets an unfortunate end to further the development of the main character''s storyline," Athena exined, her tone cautious.


    Hera''s eyes welled up with tears. She couldn''tprehend why her life seemed to be so fraught with hardship. Despite always trying to do what was right, obeying her parents, and striving to be good, she couldn''t understand why leading a decent life felt so challenging.


    At just eight years old, Hera was already burdened with worries about her future.


    "Don''t worry, remember I told you I''m a transmigrator, right? I''ve read the book and know what''s going to happen. I''ll help you," Athena reassured, gently patting her chest to convey trustworthiness.


    Athena was genuinely eager to assist Hera, feeling a pang of sympathy for her plight.


    Losing her parents at such a tender age and with her grandfather upied, Hera will spend thest decade navigating a life of solitude and hardship, concealed among themon folk, not only did she have to follow their family practice but also to evade their family''s enemies.


    As Hera matured, she would unwittingly be entangled in the romantic affairs of the story''s secondary female lead, ultimately meeting a tragic demise. Hera''s existence barely warranted a mention, her life fleeting and insignificant, barely filling a page in the narrative.


    "Will you really help me?" Hera''s voice trembled, tears staining her cheeks.


    With unwavering determination, Athena nodded. She couldn''t bear the thought of letting someone as strikingly beautiful as Hera meet a senseless demise. To her, it felt like squandering a divine gift. Why hadn''t the book mentioned Hera''s breathtaking beauty? Even in her youth, her radiance was undeniable. Athena envisioned Hera blossoming into an even more enchanting figure as she matured. Having pursued beauty in all its forms in her original world, her passion and talent for fashion design led her to be the chief editor of Vogue.


    The idea of Hera''s life being snuffed out prematurely felt like an affront to Athena''s core beliefs, fueling her resolve to intervene.


    Athena harbored a desire to make Hera her muse, and thus, their brief encounter blossomed into a decade-long friendship. Through countless conversations, Athena fervently shared details about the book she had mentioned, inadvertently causing Hera tomit its contents to memory.