❝ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐧... 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲? ❞
In a cruel twist of fate, a young aspiring writer is unexpectedly reincarnated as the villainess in her own unfinished novel. Irene...
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A few months ago...
"You have... Roughly two years left, Your Highness."
The words rang placid and clear, echoing between the circular walls of the tower. Floating right up to the high ceiling, before crashing back upon him like a collapsing building.
Daniel stared on at the long-haired Mage in silence, but there was not a single hint of remorse or fear in his eyes. In contrast, it seemed the Duke standing beside him was in a greater state of shock than the prince himself.
"Two years...?" Rudien repeated those words, lifting a slender hand to his chin as his crimson eyes lowered to the ground. Despite having such unwavering composure, his voice was quelled into almost a whisper.
It was to be expected. After all, no one would have thought the first prince, whose life had merely begun, would be disappearing so soon.
Prince Daniel, heir to the throne of Laydel. The man who was to take up the position of emperor, after fourteen long years of it remaining vacant. Even if he had disappeared for four years, losing face with the nobility whilst existing among the shadows - his ascension to the throne was an irrefutable fact.
Now, he was standing within the tower of the Grand Sage, whose words were sharp and clinical.
A cold silence pervaded the room as death loomed over the young man, who had yet to show his face to the world. The man destined to take up the throne, was now fated to die before he could fulfil his purpose.
And yet, he managed to smile in this situation.
"I'm surprised they've been so generous," Daniel broke the silence, sighing at his own situation. "Death is the punishment for those who betray the Laughing Ravens. And it's supposed to be delivered instantaneously, by the very demons they sign a contract with."
River turned his head, folding his arms as his long robes rippled beneath him. "I wouldn't call it generous, Your Highness. The demon you were given is the Poison Demon. The type that will slowly eat at you everyday. You'll be in excruciating pain, constantly, and it will increase with every minute."
"So it'll be a slow and torturous death instead," Rudien sighed, his expression grim. His silver hair was pale beneath the sunlight, as he turned to the prince beside him. "Do you feel anything right now?"
Daniel contemplated this, allowing his senses to focus as he gazed at his hands. "Well... There's a small prickle on my finger. But that's from a papercut I got this morning." Despite his completely serious expression, the Duke next to him sighed.
"Your Highness. This is no time to make jokes."
Unbeknownst to the entirety of the empire, their beloved eldest prince had been fighting a lone war to protect his country, from the mere age of eleven. A great threat loomed over Laydel - one that had occurred once before in their history. Though little was known from the few legends and scriptures of those times, one thing was true.
