The air in the Duke's study crackled with unspoken tension, thick and heavy. Desiree stood defiant, not showing any weakness in her frame. The duke look at Desiree with feirce then he sat behind his massive oak desk.
Duke Dylan: You will marry the duke for all sake. Now I want you to sign this contract.
Desiree: No, I decline your command, Father.
Duke Dylan: You have no reason to decline it. This marriage, Desiree, is not a matter of personal preference. It is a matter of survival, a matter of securing our kingdom's future.
Desiree: Survival? At what cost, Father? To sacrifice my happiness, my very life? I would rather live in poverty, than marry that… that monster!
Her voice rose, a desperate plea against the suffocating pressure of his will. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to show weakness.
Duke Dylan: Watch your mouth! Your defiance is not only disrespectful but incredibly foolish.
He slammed his fist on the desk, the sound echoing through the silent chamber.
Duke Dylan: Seize her!
The command was sharp, clipped, devoid of any emotion. They advanced towards her, their presence a tangible threat.
Desiree recoiled instinctively, but her fear was tempered by a fierce determination. She would not go down without a fight. Even if it was a fight she knew she couldn't win.
Duke Dylan rose from his chair, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the room. He approached Desiree. In his hand, he held a contract, the parchment crisp and unforgiving, sealed with the crimson wax of the royal seal. It was a document that would bind her to a life she didn't want, a life she would fight to the death to avoid.
Duke Dylan: You will sign this contract, whether you like it or not.
He extended the contract towards her, the quill resting on the parchment, poised to capture her signature, her surrender.
Desiree, her breath catching in her throat, stared at the contract, at the looming figures of the guards, at her father's implacable gaze. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. A single tear escaped her eye, tracing a path down her cheek, a silent testament to her defiance, and her utter helplessness. She looked up at her father, one last desperate plea forming on her lips:
Desiree: But Father…
————————————————————————————
< Back to modern world >
Elara groaned
Elara : Seriously, another dramatic swoon?"
She muttered, pointing a half-eaten ramen noodle at the page.
Her sister , Maya, peered over her shoulder.
Maya : Girl , I think you should sleep. It's getting late. You know.
Elara rolled her eyes. Maya , ever the responsible one , sighed.
Maya : Stop that attitude! You've been reading that book for hours.
*Elara close her phone and lay down and minutes later she fell asleep*
While Elara is sleeping she suddenly felt a searing pain shot through her head, followed by a blinding flash of light. One moment she was sprawled on her room floor , the next…
She blinked , disoriented. The scent of instant ramen was replaced by the overwhelming fragrance of lilies. Her cluttered dorm room was gone; in its place was a ridiculously opulent bedroom, complete with a four-poster bed draped in silk so soft it felt like sleeping on a cloud.
Panic flared. Where was she? Had she somehow accidentally wandered into a ridiculously elaborate cosplay convention?
A cheerful voice broke through her confusion. "Desiree, my darling! You're finally awake!"
A woman rushed in, her face beaming. The woman was… strikingly familiar. It was the Duchess from "Crimson Throne (The book she read in her phone before she sleep)", only somehow even more impeccably dressed than in the book she read.
Then, the horrifying truth dawned on Elara. She was time travel as Desiree. She was in the main character of Crimson Throne.
Wait but, how? Did Elara died while she fell asleep?
A wave of nausea washed over her. This wasn't a dream. This was… real. And ridiculously inconvenient. She remembered the story plot: the impending war with the villainous Kingdom of Kriveck, the forced marriage to the stoic Emperor Asher…
The Duchess, oblivious to Elara's internal meltdown, continued to fuss.
Duchess Lea: You've been unconscious for days, my sweet girl. The physician says it's some sort of…rare fainting spell."
Elara, or rather, Desiree, managed a weak smile.
Duchess Lea: We were so worried! Kriveck is threatening to invade, and the Emperor's envoy arrives tomorrow to finalize the marriage arrangements."
Elara mind: Wait does the chapter 34 finish already in this plot?(The plot when the duke force desiree to sign the marriage contract) I did'nt even finish the book. I was just in chapter 11.
The next few days were a blur of etiquette lessons (which Elara found utterly absurd), endless streams of concerned relatives (who all seemed to be competing for the title of "Most Excessively Dramatic"), and the constant, looming threat of an impending wedding to a man she only knew from a ridiculously melodramatic comic book.
One evening, alone in her ridiculously ornate chambers, Elara stared at her reflection. The delicate features, the long blonde hair, the impossibly large emerald eyes… it was Desiree, alright. But it was also Elara, trapped in a ridiculously over-the-top fantasy romance. She sighed. This wasn't exactly how she'd envisioned her semester break.
Then, a mischievous grin spread across her face. This was going to be… interesting. Very , very interesting. Before she reincarnated to the book she finish the spoiler so she already know all the manhwa's worth of plot points to work with, and she had a feeling she could turn this whole ridiculously predictable situation into something far more… entertaining. The Emperor better be prepared. Because Elara , or rather , Desiree , was about to rewrite the script.