I've always considered myself a confident person—some might even call me a cocky bastard. I still remember the day I left my great-uncle's house for college. After being accepted into a software engineering course, I finally felt like my chaotic life of fighting and delinquency was coming to an end. I wouldn't call myself the best individual, but I had my reasons. I became an orphan at 13 when my father died, and my mother disappeared. After bouncing between different schools because of what they called behavioral problems, I was finally adopted by my great-uncle. He said he had been looking for me.
I wasn't the easiest person to be around, but I didn't go around beating people up for no reason. I did, however, go through girlfriends, smoked, drank, and indulged in whatever people deemed bad. Surprisingly, most of my teachers saw potential in me and believed I was wasting my life by constantly fighting. Thankfully, my great-uncle set me straight. Before I left for college, he said to me, "Remember, it's not how you fail that matters, but how you get up." At the time, I shrugged it off as just typical parental advice. But now, I think I can apply it to my current situation—though, if you even consider my predicament normal.
I, Tobi Lookman, am convinced that I've somehow ended up in my ex-girlfriend's favorite novel. This definitely wasn't on my New Year's resolutions list. My thoughts are interrupted by a sharp headache. I glance at the half-finished glass of wine in front of me, trying to collect my thoughts as I take in my surroundings. I'm in a lavish bedroom, full of French Victorian decor, antiques, and jewelry.
This isn't my room. It's far too opulent, and the décor screams wealth and aristocracy. Not exactly my style. But, more pressing than that is the strange, unfamiliar feeling that lingers in my body. I glance down at the table beside me, where I see an expensive gold-incrusted dagger, a diary, an order, and a mirror. When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I realize this isn't my body. I've inherited the form of a minor villain—Lucien Guillaume, the crown prince's older brother. Known for being a drunkard, a hot-tempered womanizer, and the black sheep of the family. Just my luck.
But there's no time to dwell on it. I pick up the order, and it confirms my worst fears. According to this, I'm at the end of the novel. Why is that a problem? Well, because I'm about to be banished to the Éclipse Duchy—the land of the forgotten. A desolate place where nobles send their useless children, and the poorest, most disgraced citizens of the empire are left to rot. It's a land far removed from the power and influence of the capital, and no one speaks of it kindly. Not the ideal place to end up. But, of course, it's a fitting punishment for Lucien. The problem is—I'm not him.
Before I can spiral further into my thoughts, a servant enters my room. He's dressed in an official uniform, looking like a knight, with brown hair and green eyes. His expression is a mix of disdain and disappointment, as if we share some personal history. He regards me coldly, then asks, "Are you ready for the wedding, Your Highness?"
My confusion must be obvious, because he adds, "Between your brother and Lady Élodie," offering a look that is both indifferent and disappointed.
The wedding. Lucien's family had arranged it as part of their plan to solidify the kingdom's political alliances. But what's it got to do with me? I'm supposed to be the black sheep, not the one walking down the aisle.
Truly, I must have the worst luck.