Marian Valmont knew exactly how this story was supposed to end.
That was why she wasn’t worried.
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of her bedroom, bathing the room in warm gold. Beyond the glass, the gardens of the Valmont Duchy stretched endlessly, filled with blooming roses and carefully trimmed hedges.
Servants hurried through the hallways.
Maids entered and exited her chambers carrying dresses, jewelry, and boxes.
The Imperial Spring Banquet was tonight.
And according to the novel, this was the day Elena Hart would first meet Crown Prince Adrian Aurelius.
The beginning of everything.
The beginning of the romance.
The beginning of the original villainess’s downfall.
Marian smiled at her reflection.
The woman staring back from the mirror looked nothing like a villain.
Golden-blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders.
Blue eyes brighter than sapphires.
Skin as smooth as porcelain.
Even after eighteen years, she still found it strange.
In her previous life, she had been utterly ordinary.
Now she was Marian Valmont.
The Empire’s greatest beauty.
Future Crown Princess.
Daughter of Duke Valmont.
And most importantly—
Adrian’s fiancée.
Her smile widened.
The original story was already broken.
Completely broken.
The villainess in the novel had never been her.
The villainess had never remembered another life.
The villainess had never spent eighteen years consciously building a future.
Most importantly, the villainess had never truly understood Adrian.
Marian did.
Which was why she wasn’t worried.
Not really.
"Lady Marian?"
A maid carefully fastened a sapphire necklace around her throat.
"You seem happy today."
Marian laughed.
"Shouldn’t I be?"
"Most young ladies would be nervous before such an important banquet."
Marian glanced toward the window.
Important?
Perhaps.
Life-changing?
Not for her.
At least that was what she believed.
Because the story had already changed.
How could it not?
The original villainess and Adrian had shared an engagement.
Marian and Adrian had shared a life.
There was a difference.
A very large difference.
A knock sounded.
Before anyone could answer, the door opened.
Marian immediately smiled.
Adrian.
It happened every time.
No matter how many years passed.
No matter how many times she saw him.
Something inside her always softened.
The Crown Prince stood in the doorway, dressed in formal black and silver.
Tall.
Elegant.
Handsome enough to make half the Empire lose its senses.
His silver hair gleamed beneath the morning light.
His blue eyes immediately found hers.
And softened.
"There you are."
The maids bowed deeply.
Adrian barely acknowledged them.
His attention remained entirely on Marian.
As it always had.
That alone was enough to make her feel victorious.
Take that, fate.
The original story never stood a chance.
"Your Highness."
Marian rose from her seat and curtsied.
Adrian frowned immediately.
"Must you be formal?"
"Must you complain every time?"
"I’ll continue complaining."
"And I’ll continue ignoring you."
The prince sighed dramatically.
The maids giggled.
This was normal.
Comfortable.
Familiar.
The sort of interaction born from years of knowing each other.
Adrian walked toward her.
Without hesitation.
Without permission.
Without thinking.
He reached over and adjusted a small wrinkle in her sleeve.
A completely ordinary gesture.
One he had performed countless times before.
"Better."
Marian raised an eyebrow.
"You inspected my dress before greeting me?"
"The dress was easier to fix."
"How rude."
"You’ll survive."
"I might not."
"You absolutely will."
Marian laughed.
A real laugh.
Not the carefully practiced smile she wore during social events.
A genuine one.
And Adrian’s expression immediately softened further.
The sight warmed her heart.
It always did.
Sometimes Marian wondered if the novel’s author had been blind.
How could anyone look at this and think Elena Hart stood a chance?
Perhaps that sounded arrogant.
She didn’t care.
Adrian loved her.
Not because she was beautiful.
Not because she was a duke’s daughter.
Because they had grown up together.
Because they understood each other.
Because they had spent years building something real.
No heroine could simply walk in and replace that.
Surely.
"You’re smiling."
Adrian’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
Marian blinked.
"Am I not allowed?"
"You look pleased with yourself."
"I usually am."
"That’s concerning."
"You’re still marrying me."
Adrian stared at her.
Then shook his head.
"Unfortunately."
Marian laughed again.
There it was.
That feeling.
Warm.
Safe.
Certain.
The feeling she only experienced around him.
And for a brief moment she felt ridiculous.
Ridiculous for ever worrying.
Ridiculous for ever fearing the novel.
The story was fiction.
This was reality.
And reality belonged to her.
The Imperial Palace glittered beneath thousands of lights.
Crystal chandeliers illuminated the grand ballroom.
Music drifted through the air.
Nobles gathered in elegant clusters.
The Imperial Spring Banquet had begun.
As expected, every eye turned toward Marian when she entered.
She ignored them.
She had long since become accustomed to attention.
Instead she focused on the man standing beside her.
Adrian.
The future Emperor.
The man she intended to marry.
His arm remained beneath her hand as they entered together.
The perfect couple.
At least according to everyone else.
The Emperor himself smiled when he saw them.
Several noblewomen sighed.
More than one nobleman looked jealous.
Marian enjoyed every second of it.
Petty?
Perhaps.
But she had earned it.
After all, the Empire’s most desirable man was her fiancé.
Not theirs.
The evening progressed smoothly.
Conversations.
Greetings.
Political discussions.
Dances.
Everything unfolded exactly as it should.
Until Marian noticed movement near the entrance.
Her smile faltered.
Only slightly.
There.
A young woman had entered the ballroom.
Not dressed extravagantly.
Not accompanied by powerful nobles.
Yet somehow impossible to overlook.
Warm chestnut hair.
Bright eyes.
A genuine smile.
Elena Hart.
The heroine.
The woman who should never have mattered.
Marian studied her quietly.
Then relaxed.
Honestly?
She wasn’t impressed.
Elena was pretty.
Certainly.
But the novel had described her as though she descended from heaven itself.
In reality she looked... normal.
Charming.
Fresh.
Pleasant.
But not extraordinary.
Definitely not enough to threaten eighteen years.
Marian almost laughed.
Was this what she had worried about?
This girl?
No.
Absolutely not.
She refused.
The original villainess might have panicked.
Marian would not.
Because Adrian loved her.
Simple.
The end.
Confident once more, Marian turned toward her fiancé.
Only to discover that Adrian was looking toward the entrance.
Toward Elena.
The sight made her pause.
Not because she was jealous.
Not yet.
Because she was surprised.
Adrian rarely paid attention to strangers.
Especially at crowded events.
"Adrian?"
The prince blinked.
Then immediately looked back at her.
"What is it?"
Marian smiled.
Nothing had happened.
Nothing.
She was overthinking.
Again.
"Nothing."
Adrian studied her briefly.
Then offered his arm.
"Shall we?"
Marian accepted it without hesitation.
Of course she did.
As they walked toward the dance floor together, she glanced over her shoulder one final time.
Elena Hart stood surrounded by curious nobles.
Smiling.
Laughing.
Entirely unaware of the role she was destined to play.
Marian looked away.
The heroine had arrived.
And for the first time in eighteen years, fate had finally made its move.
Still...
As Adrian’s hand settled comfortably against her waist during the opening dance, Marian found herself smiling.
Let fate try.
She wasn’t afraid.
Because this time...
The story belonged to her.