The original Beatrice died.

Okay, so, there was once a witch, an alchemist, a wealthy benefactor or something who went by the name of Beatrice, but she died. Ever since then, Eva has been putting on her dress and making others think that she was the witch of the island in a series of elaborate pranks.

"What kind of a story is that?!" The witch pointed her staff head at me with **** dissatisfaction. "How could I keep up that illusion throughout all the days Ushiromiya Eva was out doing other stuff? She wasn't on the island all the time... Wait, put that aside for now. Where does her power come from?! I'm supposed to be an all-powerful witch, dammit! How did Eva get that power by playing pranks on her servants and siblings?"

"Yes, do tell," Beatrice asked from alongside me, holding her pipe aloft and grinning. "I do so love to hear humans attempt to explain these mysteries! So, I'm dead, right? Eva somehow managed to kill me, then inherited my title."

Yes, so you're dead, and... Wait. Dammit.

"No, don't stop! This line of thinking is good. Eva killed me by utilizing one of my weaknesses, perhaps a spell or talisman. Now, she has access to all of my furniture, and, of course, my tremendous wealth. That is, if she can carry out my ritual... And that's a whole story unto itself. Sounds like a good set up for many exciting **** tales to come... Of course, there's just one problem." Beatrice wrapped an arm around my shoulder familiarly, putting a hand on her hip with a proud expression. "Don't worry, as a master gamesmith, I'll make it clear for you! The most important part of being a witch, and the trickiest...

... is getting rid of the body." Beatrice looked into my face with the same amused grin, but cruel eyes that searched mine for the emotion she wanted, grabbed it, and pulled it out. Mortal fear. "When Beatrice appears alive in the story later, it's going to be a big problem, isn't it, Player? Either a logic hole or an unpopular trick! Either way, it proves this shrimp is not Beatrice. Rather than let you trap yourself in that story... I'll help you quickly get back to thinking about it properly. How do you go back to the start of your story, again? Ah... That's right...!"

The actual, still-very-much-alive Beatrice returned me to the start of my story with her trademark charm and finesse.