Oops I Faked My Way Into Nobility Novel by Vivian Taylor _ Novel





Oops I Faked My Way Into Nobility Chapter 01

Chapter 1 Stuck As A Fake Highborn

The screen flickered: [Chronicles of Galland download complete. Please confirm login.]
[Auto-confirmed. Login successful.]
[Have an epic adventure!]
A dazzling white light swallowed the room whole.
*****
When Lorrayne opened her eyes, everything was wrong.
Her messy computer desk? Vanished. Instead, a long wooden table sat in front of her, piled with trays of spices that smelled like a punch to the face.
The sharp, earthy aroma, mixed with a damp breeze, yanked her back to her college days in Eldoria.
She’d spent her nights slaving away at a swanky restaurant, grinding spices into powder to scrape by.
“Lorrayne!” The yell snapped her out of it.
She whipped her head up, scanning her surroundings.
The room screamed late-medieval Eldoria—pure Gothic vibes.
Tall, arched windows let in faint light, thick stone walls loomed heavy, and the floor was cold and clammy. A gaudy crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling.
A bunch of twelve- and thirteen-year-olds slouched at their desks, sneaking looks her way. Up front, a blond guy—probably in his thirties or forties, definitely the teacher—glared at her like she’d stolen his lunch.
“Lorrayne!” he barked again, his voice sharp enough to slice bread. “Stand up and answer my question.”
His eyes drilled into her, practically screaming suspicion.
Lorrayne’s stomach did a flip. Panic clawed at her chest, and a rush of emotions—not hers—flooded her brain.
Then came the memories, flickering like a glitchy old movie.
It hit her. The girl whose body she was stuck in had been posing as a highborn to sneak into this fancy academy. Big mistake—she’d pissed off a real highborn girl in a dorm room fight.
This moment was that girl’s payback, a setup to make Lorrayne crash and burn on the first day of class.
The blond guy was Professor Phil, teaching this Potioncraft Class.
He’d been roped into the trap, calling her out to answer a question about highborn spices.
Here’s the deal: the original Lorrayne didn’t know a thing about fancy spices. Just the thought of being put on the spot had her shaking like a leaf.
And for good reason—lowborns caught faking as highborns got dragged off for torture and a public hanging.
Lorrayne’s mind flashed to medieval torture racks and gallows. ‘Yeah, no way I’m going out like that.’
She stood, locking eyes with Phil. “Sorry, Professor Phil, I totally zoned out. Can you run that question by me again?”
A snicker came from her right. One of the highborn girl’s lackeys smirked. “Zoned out? More like she’s got no idea.”
The room buzzed with whispers.
“Can’t even name basic spices. Is she really a highborn?”
“Zip it!” Phil smacked his desk, shutting them up. He turned to Lorrayne. “Name the spices on your table and tell me what they’re for. Now.”
“No prob,” Lorrayne said, glancing down at the tray.
Dill, sweet basil, parsley, sage, rosemary… all stuff she’d worked with at the restaurant.
In her old world, these were cheap as chips, grown everywhere. But centuries ago? Probably worth more than gold.
Here was hoping they kept the same names.
She took a deep breath, fingers grazing the spices as she listed them off.
“Dill—sweet and zingy, great for cooking, helps with stomach aches and sleepless nights,” she said. “Sweet basil—perfect for tossing on dishes, you can eat it raw.
“Parsley—seasoning, good fresh. Sage—smells strong, used in food or to make stuff smell nice…”
She went on, finishing with, “And vanilla pods, super rich and fragrant, used in cooking or perfumes.”
She paused, nudging the herbs aside to spot a yellowish, creamy lump.
Her nerves settled a bit. ‘If that highborn girl was dead certain I’m a fake, she wouldn’t have thrown in something this sneaky.’
“This is frankincense,” Lorrayne said. “Resin from olive and frankincense trees. Good for pain relief and keeping things clean.”
She stepped back, looking up. “How’d I do, Professor Phil?”
The room went quiet as a graveyard.
Lorrayne’s brow creased. ‘Did I screw up the names?’
After what felt like forever, Phil finally spoke. “You’ve… eaten these spices?”
“Professor Phil, they’re just your run-of-the-mill seasonings, right?” She flashed a cheeky grin. “Well, except frankincense. That’s more for incense or oils, not chowing down.”
Phil, a highborn himself, knew that. But even he wouldn’t use these spices for everyday cooking—they were way too pricey.
And frankincense? That was sacred, used in offerings for its divine scent. ‘Wait… frankincense isn’t even supposed to be here,’ he thought.
He blinked, then hustled to her desk. “Mind if I check your tray?”
“Go right ahead,” Lorrayne said, stepping out of his way.
Phil picked up the yellowish lump, sniffed it, and his face went through a rollercoaster—shock, confusion, then something else.
“Yup, that’s frankincense,” he muttered, setting it down. “Must’ve mixed it in with the herbs by mistake. My bad, Lorrayne. How about ten points for the class?”
“Sweet, sir.”
Phil shuffled back to his podium, scribbling something in his notes.
As Lorrayne sat down, the highborn girl—Athina—twisted in her seat, her sharp blue eyes sizing Lorrayne up like she was some weird puzzle piece.
Lorrayne met her gaze and noticed something odd.
Athina’s golden hair was the exact same shade as Phil’s.
The rest of the class was a total snoozefest, half the kids practically snoring.
Lorrayne looked like she was daydreaming, but she was really sifting through the original Lorrayne’s memories.
The girl had been a fisherman’s daughter from a tiny village, wiped out by pirates. She’d escaped, saved by a group of knights.
One of them, a kindhearted lady knight, slipped her a recommendation letter and some gold to enroll at this academy.
But her looks made her a target on the road. To stay safe, she’d started pretending to be a highborn.
Terrible idea. That spur-of-the-moment choice ended up costing her life.
In the original timeline, she’d flopped Phil’s question, setting off alarm bells. Her classmates ratted her out to the Church’s inquisitors.
They dragged her to a dungeon, where she cracked under torture and spilled her real identity.
After that? Paraded through the streets, tied up, pelted with rotten veggies and manure by lowborns.
Her classmates showed up, too, pointing and laughing. In the end, she was strung up on the gallows and hanged.
Her final act? Offering her soul to The Dread God, begging for a chance to change the world—and her fate.
Maybe that god had listened, because here Lorrayne was, dropped into the day the impostor got busted.
She half-closed her eyes, digging through more memories about the school.
Syrria Academy of Arcana, funded by a bunch of nations, had a big talk about training the continent’s best, no matter their class. “Everyone’s welcome, highborn or lowborn,” they preached.
But in reality? Highborns treated lowborns like garbage, and nobody took that equality stuff seriously.
The original Lorrayne had slipped into the highborn crowd, but her lowborn ways made her stick out like a sore thumb. She was bound to get caught sooner or later.
Today’s spice quiz was just the warm-up.
Athina, especially, wasn’t about to let her off easy.
In the memories, Athina had already sent someone to snoop into Lorrayne’s past. The girl just blew her cover too fast for Athina’s backup plan to matter.

READ FULL NOVEL HERE