Chapter 1Posthumous Conquest

The moment King Alaric announced his intention to crown Charlotte, his 'fated one,' as Queen, the System declared my mission a failure.

Nearly a decade I’d spent trapped in this realm, enduring untold hardships, all to win the hearts of three men. Yet, the Prophesied Maiden merely had to appear, and effortlessly, she shattered every ounce of my effort.

The System informed me that despite my failure, meaning no reward awaited me in the real world, it could, however, send me home.

And so, with a singular burning desire to return, I embarked on a series of elaborate attempts to end my life.

But just as my consciousness began to fray, fading into oblivion, a desperate cry echoed in my ears.

* * *

The news of King Alaric's impending marriage to Charlotte spread like wildfire, painting the entire Royal Palace with a veneer of joyous anticipation. In stark contrast, my own chambers – not officially a prison, but certainly feeling more desolate than any—the Shadow Wing, became a tomb of profound sorrow.

This realm, I knew, was a fractured tapestry, a 'fated world' where the core narrative had utterly unraveled. I, Elara, had been chosen by the System to mend its broken script, to guide three pivotal men and restore the cosmic balance. Succeed, and a hundred million crowns awaited me in the real world.

Day after painstaking day, I had toiled, meticulously building their affections. The affection meters were agonizingly close to reaching one hundred percent when Charlotte, the 'Prophesied Maiden' who should never have existed, materialized. For her sake, the three men turned against me, their former devotion twisted into bitter animosity. They confined me to these secluded chambers, leaving me to languish like a forgotten spirit, half-dead, merely existing.

Today, as King Alaric proclaimed Charlotte his Queen, the System finally succumbed to despair.

“Host,” it sighed, its voice laced with regret, “I regret to inform you that your mission has failed.”

“Though the hundred million crowns are lost to you, know this: once your physical form perishes, I can transport you back to your true world.”

Though wealth was tempting, the call of life—my true life—was infinitely louder. As I desperately cast about for a means to escape this living death, a cruel realization dawned: there wasn't even a single silken cord for a quick, decisive end! Gazing at the swirling snow outside, I gritted my teeth. Still clad in my thin nightgown, I dragged myself out into the frigid air and lay down in the deepening drifts. To freeze to death might not be a dignified end, but compared to the sweet promise of home, it was a trifle.

As my body temperature plummeted, my limbs grew stiff, then rigid. When that strange, deceptive warmth began to spread through me in the icy embrace, I knew death was imminent. But in the final flicker of consciousness, a furious roar shattered the encroaching silence:

“Elara—!”

A searing heat assaulted me, and I struggled to pry open my eyes. Before I could even make sense of my surroundings, a deluge of scalding water crashed over me. The man standing over me wore robes of deep imperial purple, adorned with shimmering gold embroidery. Rage radiated from him in palpable waves.

Lord Corbin—the last of the men I was tasked to 'charm,' and currently the powerful Lord Regent of the Solaran Kingdom.

I remembered our first meeting, years ago, on another day of heavy snowfall. Back then, he was merely a junior scribe, unjustly imprisoned in the Royal Dungeons by King Alaric due to the machinations of a jealous colleague. I had knelt for three grueling hours outside King Alaric's throne room, begging for his mercy, until the King finally relented and cleared Corbin's name.

I knew Corbin was a man of deep, guarded thoughts. For years, I had been his 'little sun,' slowly melting away the hardened shell around his heart. I had truly believed I would win him over completely one day. But then, a year ago, the Spring Royal Hunt shattered all my illusions.

During the hunt, Charlotte's horse bolted, and she fell, seemingly left crippled. Her personal attendant immediately accused me of sabotaging her saddle. King Alaric, without so much as a proper inquiry, banished me to these secluded palace chambers. Master Eldrin, the Grand Seer, whom I had once saved at the risk of my own life, declared me a 'Harbinger of Doom,' condemning me to be paraded through the streets for three days, reviled by the populace. And Lord Corbin? He sent his guards daily to slap me for an entire hour.

Seeing my eyes flutter open, Corbin's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. “The Palace has just announced Charlotte's elevation to Queen, and you pull this desperate little play, Elara? Do you truly believe His Majesty will suddenly soften his heart?”

“Such cheap theatrics! A common streetwalker's act!”

It had been a year since I last saw him. The man who now stood at the pinnacle of power bore no resemblance to the one who once looked at me with tenderness. Now, only contempt filled his gaze. He seemed to relish flinging every vile accusation he could conjure at me. To rouse me, Corbin hadn't bothered with a Royal Physician. He had simply ordered his guards to douse me with buckets of scalding water.

“Today is a day of joy for Charlotte. Summoning a physician now would only bring ill omens upon her!”

“Besides, your life is worthless, isn't it? And look, you're awake now.”

The searing pain in my knees, a constant torment, rendered me speechless. My silence only deepened the oppressive aura around Corbin. Then, with another cold sneer, he drew the ornate sword from his hip and tossed it carelessly a few feet away.

“If you want to die,” he spat, “then do it cleanly. Don't disturb Charlotte or cause her any undue sorrow!”

Corbin watched me with a mocking gaze, utterly convinced I wouldn't dare take my own life. But a flicker of hope ignited within me. Before he could react, I dragged my agonizingly painful legs, seized the sword, and aimed it at my throat. Corbin was right. Freezing to death was a slow, miserable end. A blade to the throat? That was swift. As the sharp steel sliced through my skin, a genuine smile touched my lips.

Finally, I could go home. See Mom and Dad again…