Web Fic
Novel info
Oops, I Faked My Way Into Nobility
Synopsis : Oops
A blinding white light engulfed the entire room, swallowing everything in its radiance. When Lorrayne opened her eyes, she wasn’t in her messy apartment anymore. Her familiar computer desk was gone—replaced by a long wooden table stacked with trays of aromatic spices. The sharp, earthy scents filled the air, yanking her back to memories of her struggling college days in Eldoria, where she’d worked nights grinding spices in a high-end restaurant just to make rent.
But this wasn’t a nostalgic flashback. The room around her was completely foreign—ancient, stone-walled, and dripping with medieval grandeur. Tall, arched windows filtered in faint daylight, the floor was cold and damp, and a crystal chandelier hung above. Lorrayne realized she wasn’t home; she wasn’t even in her own world.
Before she could process the situation, a harsh voice cut through the murmurs of the classroom. “Lorrayne!” barked a blond man standing at the front, glaring at her. The students—kids barely in their teens—watched her curiously. Everything about the place screamed “late–medieval academy.” The man, Professor Phil, demanded she stand up and answer his question.
Panic surged through her. She could feel emotions that weren’t hers rushing into her head—memories, sensations, and fear that didn’t belong to her. Then came the truth like a wave crashing down: she wasn’t just in another world. She was inside someone else’s body.
The original Lorrayne—the girl whose identity she now wore—had been a lowborn peasant pretending to be a highborn noble to sneak into this elite magic academy. She’d been caught in a petty feud with a real noble girl named Athina and set up to fail in front of everyone. In this world, being exposed as a fake noble wasn’t just embarrassing—it was a death sentence. Lowborns caught impersonating highborns were tortured publicly before being hanged.
The moment she now found herself in was the one that sealed the original Lorrayne’s fate—the first day of class, the trap already sprung. Professor Phil, Athina’s father, had just asked her to identify the rare spices laid out in front of her, something only a true highborn could do.
The class whispered, sneering. “She doesn’t even know the basics.” “Is she really a noble?”
Lorrayne, determined not to die the same way her body’s former owner had, straightened her posture and forced a calm smile. “Sorry, Professor Phil,” she said confidently. “Can you repeat the question?”
The teacher frowned, repeating his order: name the spices and explain their uses.
Her heart hammered, but then instinct kicked in. She might not know “highborn etiquette,” but she did know spices. Years in restaurant kitchens had taught her plenty.
One by one, she listed them: “Dill—sweet and sharp, helps with stomach issues. Sweet basil—great for cooking, fresh or raw. Parsley—used as seasoning, good fresh. Sage—aromatic, used in food or fragrance. Rosemary—used for flavoring, improves focus…”
Her hands moved automatically as she identified each spice, confidence growing. Then her fingers brushed over something different—a small yellowish lump. She squinted at it, recognizing the resin-like texture instantly.
“This,” she said, “is frankincense. It comes from resin trees, used for pain relief and cleaning wounds.”
Silence fell over the classroom. Lorrayne’s heart skipped a beat. Did I mess that up?
But to her shock, Professor Phil looked stunned—not angry, but amazed. “You’ve… eaten these before?” he asked cautiously.
“Professor, they’re just seasonings,” she said with a shrug. “Well, except frankincense—that’s more for incense or oils, not for eating.”
Phil froze. Even among the nobility, such spices were treasures. And frankincense was sacred—used in temples, not kitchens. The fact that she recognized it so casually made him question everything he knew about this “student.”
He hurried over, inspected the tray, and inhaled sharply. “You’re right. This is frankincense… must’ve been mixed in by accident.” Then, to the shock of everyone, he added, “Ten points for your class performance.”
Lorrayne grinned and sat down. Around her, whispers rippled. Athina, the golden-haired noble girl sitting nearby, glared daggers at her. Lorrayne noticed something peculiar—the girl’s hair was the exact same shade as Phil’s. His daughter, she realized.
As class continued, she pretended to be daydreaming while diving deeper into the buried memories of the original Lorrayne. The story that unfolded was tragic.
The real Lorrayne had been a fisherman’s daughter from a small coastal village. Her entire home was razed by pirates, leaving her an orphan. She’d been saved by a group of knights, one of whom—a noble lady—had taken pity on her and given her a recommendation letter and gold to join the prestigious Syria Academy of Arcana. The academy preached equality among all classes—“Highborn or lowborn, all are welcome!”—but reality was cruelly different. Lowborn students were ridiculed, isolated, and used as scapegoats for highborn whims.
Desperate to survive and fit in, Lorrayne had pretended to be of noble birth. But she lacked their polished manners, and it wasn’t long before the vultures circled. Athina, in particular, took offense to this “imposter” daring to stand among her kind.
The spice test had been her undoing in the first timeline. The original Lorrayne had panicked, stammered nonsense, and been exposed. Her classmates reported her to the Church’s inquisitors, who dragged her to the dungeons.
The memories flooded in—chains clanking, the iron stench of blood, the torturer’s smile. She had broken under the pain, confessed everything, and begged for mercy. There was none.
They paraded her through the streets, bound and humiliated, while both lowborn and highborn onlookers jeered. Rotten vegetables and filth were hurled at her. Athina and her classmates watched and laughed as the noose tightened around her neck. Her final breath had been a curse to this cruel world and a desperate prayer to The Dread God—a dark deity said to grant forbidden wishes.
“I’ll do anything,” she’d whispered before dying, “just give me one more chance to change everything.”
Now, somehow, that wish had been granted.
Lorrayne found herself living again—reborn in the exact moment before her downfall. The Dread God had heard her plea and given her a second chance.
But this time, she wasn’t the same powerless girl. This new Lorrayne had the mind of a modern woman, the instincts of a survivor, and knowledge from a world centuries ahead.
As she sat in that ancient classroom, the air thick with whispered rumors and suspicion, one thought burned bright in her mind:
If fate gave me a second chance… I’m not wasting it.
This was her rebirth—her chance to rewrite her story and tear down the cruel walls between highborn and lowborn. And no spoiled noble, no corrupt priest, not even the gods themselves, would stand in her way.
The first spark had already been lit—in the form of a spice test that didn’t go according to anyone’s plan.
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