I struggled to grasp the reality of the situation, a chilling sense of danger gripping me as I abruptly pulled my hand away from Carden. The awe I had felt moments before dissolved into panic. If I became his wife, my life would inevitably intertwine with the dark and tragic narrative of this cursed novel.
Carden had been my favorite character, but all I knew about him was his relentless quest for revenge and the bloody path he had walked. The gravity of what had just happened hit me with full force.
Without thinking, I turned on my heels and tried to leave, but my father's grip on my wrist stopped me. "Princess, that's rude," he chided, his voice grating on my nerves. I shoved him away and bolted from the room.
The palace corridors seemed to stretch on endlessly as I ran, my heart pounding and my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. My mind raced, trying to piece together the unfolding events. Was this part of the plot—or was it something new? Everything was a disorienting blur.
"What… what is happening?" I gasped, anxiety clawing at me, my whole body trembling. I stopped, clutching a pillar for support, struggling to catch my breath.
I attempted to recall the novel's events, but the details were hazy. I remembered the crucial parts, but this—this was not one of them. As far as I could recall, the female lead, Rose, was remembered and cherished even after her death, keeping her spirit alive in Carden's mind. Rose had been the only woman of significance in his life. As for me—Livine—I was merely an extra character, a perfect princess without real significance.
Then it struck me—the true villain of this story wasn't Carden. It was my own family. The king and the crown prince were the real threats.
But what happened to Livine in the end? Why couldn't I remember her fate? Just as the realization dawned on me, a sharp tug on my arm made me gasp. I turned to see the king, his face twisted in fury, dragging me away.
"Your Majesty—ah, w-wait!" I struggled, but my attempts were futile. The king stormed through the palace, his iron grip making everyone we passed—maids, guards—avert their eyes, as if this scene was all too familiar.
He threw open the door to my chamber and shoved me inside with such force that I slammed into the wall. His veins bulged with rage, and his violet eyes, so similar to mine, burned with fury. "What do you think you're doing?!" he snarled, his hand flying out to slap me.
The sting of the slap left me wide-eyed, my hand trembling as I touched my cheek. But before I could recover, he yanked me by the hair, his breath hot with anger.
"How dare you humiliate me in front of that brute! You even pushed me!" he spat, throwing me across the room. My body crashed into the opposite wall, pain radiating through me.
His rage was a storm, relentless and terrifying. The king's hands wrapped around my throat, his grip tightening. "Listen, Princess, the blood that flows in your veins is mine! Every luxury, every title, is my gift! So you better know your place and never, ever, dare to oppose me again!"
I struggled to breathe, my body refusing to obey. All I could do was stare at him in fear, my mind clouded with confusion.
Finally, he released me, and I crumpled to the floor, gasping for air. The king stormed out, leaving me alone, battered and broken.
Then, like a floodgate opening, all of Livine's memories that had been buried in the darkness of my mind came rushing back. Every tear she had shed, every instance of abuse, every moment of being shouted at, ignored, or crushed under pressure—everything came back, playing out like a broken record.
Ah, so she wasn't perfect after all.
.・..・゜✭・.・✫・゜・..
In the dimly lit chamber Carden was using temporarily in the palace, the soft moonlight streaming through the window cast a gentle glow over his rugged figure. Despite the relaxed posture he maintained, his mind was anything but at ease. The recent events—the princess's abrupt reaction, the king's sudden decision, and the forced marriage—swirled through his thoughts, fueling a storm of contemplation.
"You're not returning to the banquet? It's still going on." Gilbert, his aide, said, breaking the silence as he entered the room.
Carden, who had been staring at the opulent ceiling, shifted his gaze to Gilbert. "And what about you?"
Gilbert chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Every noble there looks down on us, and it sours my mood. I'd rather stay here with you."
Carden offered a small, bitter smile. "The sentiment is mutual." He leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the armrest. "Do you have the report?"
Gilbert's expression grew serious as he leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Yes. Our suspicions were correct. The crown prince has placed spies within our ranks. I have their names and faces."
Carden nodded, acknowledging the information, then closed his eyes. A dark chuckle escaped him. "It wasn't enough for them to kill my wife. Now they're trying to control me by marrying me off to the princess." His tone grew menacing, his ash-gray eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "How arrogant."
Gilbert remained silent, the weight of Carden's words heavy between them. After a pause, he hesitated before speaking again. "But why did you accept it, my Lord? If you wish, we can fight for you, even if it means going against the whole kingdom—"
Carden raised a hand to cut him off. "Watch your tongue, Gilbert. The walls have ears. Keep it quiet," he warned, his tone sharp. "And no, I have no intention of starting a bloodbath just yet."
He sighed, rubbing his temples as if to ease a headache. "This was unexpected, but once I marry the princess and bring her to my land in Ugreum, I can keep an eye on her. From what I saw today, I doubt she could even handle a small knife."
Gilbert looked as though he wanted to protest, but Carden's voice remained steady and resolute. "Of course, I won't overlook any potential danger she might pose. However, I have a feeling she's not the enemy here."
Gilbert paused, then nodded, understanding the unspoken command to stay vigilant. Carden's instincts were rarely wrong, but in a game as treacherous as this, even the smallest misstep could prove fatal.