《The Time Travelling Bride》


 Fate works in mysterious ways

    There was shrilling screech by my ear, I could feel my mind swirling as I woke up to a world beyond my comprehension. The shift from being a fiesty 22-year-old fresh out of college to suddenly being entwined in an 18th-century bridal chamber was jarring. My name is Jasmine, I am an aspiring writer and was recently given the opportunity to write a sequel for a popular online web novel series. Circumstances surrounding the last author¡¯s situation and inability to continue writing was shrouded with mystery, but this was nevertheless a golden opportunity for me. I didn¡¯t hesitate to begin my research on the past series with gusto.


    The sheets beneath me were soft like silk, I slipped while attempting to remove the veil obstructing my view. Struggling to move, I lay still, absorbing the continuous murmurs around me.


    "Congratulations to the His Grace on your marriage to such a fine lady."


    "Miss Elizabeth and His Grace are a perfect match..."


    The chatter ceased as I settled on the bed. Finally, I regained control over my body, pulling down the veil, an opulent bridal chamber decked with luxury 18th-century upholstery. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the white veil in my hand¡ªwas this a wedding veil?


    Glancing at my attire, I found myself adorned in a stunning white gown with intricate lace.


    Raising my head, I caught sight of a huge antique-styled chamber illuminated by flickering candles. The wedding chamber exuded an air of opulence, an ode to the grandeur of 18th-century European aristocracy. Ornate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of gallant knights and noble dames. The dimly lit room was bathed in the warm glow of flickering candles, casting dancing shadows across the elaborately carved furniture. A massive four-poster bed stood as the centerpiece, draped in rich, brocade fabrics with golden embroidery, cascading in luxurious folds. Its intricately carved wooden frame bore the insignia of the noble family, a testament to its noble lineage. The chamber boasted antique furnishings, polished to a gleaming sheen. A magnificent armoire displayed meticulously crafted porcelain and gilded trinkets, a showcase of wealth and refinement. The room echoed with a sense of history, each piece of furniture whispering tales of past celebrations and royal ceremonies.


    Massaging my stiff neck, I glimpsed at a maid, her snowy skin and delicate features revealing perhaps sixteen or seventeen years of age. Appearing flustered, she gasped, "Miss, you can''t unveil yourself. It''s the Duke who should do so on the wedding night. It''s inauspicious to do otherwise!"


    Engulfed in the veil once again, I froze momentarily. Then, slowly, connecting the dots from the earlier commotion, realization dawned upon me.


    "I''ve... time-traveled?" I muttered incredulously. How did I, at the prime of my life, end up here, on my wedding night?


    Recalling the praises I heard earlier - Duke Smith and Elizabeth Turner - struck a chord. The names seemed oddly familiar, almost from a story I''d recently read. Yet, the critical point was my current identity¡ªit certainly wasn''t the protagonist!


    I paused, ¡°Lily?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Miss?¡± a concerned voice whispered back.


    My head throbbed. Despite objections from the maid, I tore off the veil, determined. "Fetch some warm water, please. I feel... faint."


    "But milady, the His Grace..."


    "He won''t come," I interrupted. Ignoring the maid''s protest, I walked to the mirror, undoing the headdress. Memories from a recently finished novel surfaced¡ªElizabeth knew the male lead, Duke Smith, married her, the vicious antagonist but never did so much as touch her. All his love and warmth were reserved only for his one and only love ¨C Charlotte Arnoult.


    As water splashed on my face, my thoughts began to clear. I had evidently time-traveled to a crucial juncture in the novel¡­but how was I supposed to reverse the tragic ending of Lily Turner? I was already married to Duke Smith and the Arnoult family imprisoned, with the planted evidence, that my father and I framed her with.


    Suddenly, I was struck by what felt like a sudden jolt, a shock that traveled through me in an instant as memories of Elizabeth Turner started surging through me without warning. It was as if my mind was elsewhere, lost in the rhythm of the day, when out of nowhere, something triggered that buried memory, and I was drowning in a sea of memories that were not mine.


    I looked into the mirror. The reflection staring back at me was nothing short of captivating. Every feature seemed meticulously crafted to allure, from the soft curls framing my face to the delicate lines outlining my eyes. But behind the facade of beauty, I couldn''t shake the turmoil within.


    As I gazed upon my own reflection, a sense of disappointment crept in. The mirror showcased an image of undeniable loveliness¡ªperfectly styled hair, ravishing gown¡ªbut beneath that surface, I knew the truth. Elizabeth Turner was the architect of deceit, hiding behind this captivating facade, concealing my wrongdoings and the hurt that she had caused. And now, I will have to pay for the misdeeds she committed in this body.


    The reflection spoke of elegance and charm, but my mind carried the weight of my actions. It was a stark contrast¡ªbeauty tainted by the knowledge of my own misdeeds. Despite the flawless image staring back at me, it couldn''t erase the remorse that gnawed at my conscience, tarnishing the perfection I saw.


    The protagonist of this tale was Charlotte Arnoult. She was a beautiful and brave young lady, accomplished in the arts and nimble on the horse. Her father served as the town''s governor, and due to his exceptional achievements, he was transferred to the capital. This is where Charlotte''s deep and tortured romance with the male lead, Duke Smith, began.


    On the other hand, Elizabeth has been nothing but scheming. Once Charlotte came in the picture, she keenly sensed the Duke''s interest and so she played her cards accordingly. On one hand, she created coincidences to acquaint Charlotte and quickly gained her trust. On the other hand, she started creating misgivings of the Arnoult family.


    Even this very wedding was single-handedly orchestrated by Elizabeth Turner. She found an opportunity to drug the Duke before quietly slipping between the covers.


    Gazing at him in his slumber, hair splayed across his delicate features. His usually sombre countenance hardened by responsibilities and realities beyond his years, softened with rhythmic breaths, and traces of his boyish handsomeness. His side profile was a portrait of grace and symmetry, with strong yet delicate lines sculpting his features. The slope of his nose cut an elegant silhouette against the light, framing his chiselled jawline. His lips, curved in a subtle but confident manner, added a touch of quiet allure to his demeanour. Every angle seemed perfectly etched, from the gentle arc of his brow to the defined edge of his chin. The play of light and shadow only accentuated the aristocratic air that surrounded him. She hesitated.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    But the hesitation only lasted for a second. With a resolute breath, she gripped the intricate embroidery of her dress. Rip by rip, the silk tore beneath her relentless fingers, cascading to the floor in a cascade of opulence. Her movements were swift, fuelled by a determination that left no room for second thoughts. Her slender fingers ran through her hair, letting those bejewelled pins fall carelessly over the stone floors. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders in unbridled beauty across her dewy pale skin as she slipped between the covers. This was her one and only chance ¨C she had to look the part.


    The rest of the sequel leading up to the wedding ceremony played out like clockwork. Feigning a loss of virginity coupled with staged attempted suicides and the ensuing waterworks, she managed to successfully marry into the Duke¡¯s residence as his Duchess with lowlife tactics employed by a high street whore.


    Today, was supposed to be the pinnacle of her happiness ¨C she was marrying the love of her life and her rival, Charlotte and the entire Arnoult family, have orders of arrest over their heads. But ironically, this was the day that I came into her body.


    ¡°Your bath is ready, milady. Shall I prepare you for the bath?¡±, a quiet voice interrupting my thoughts emerged from behind. I glanced to the side and waved her away. I needed time alone but the fear in her widened eyes struck me. Her delicate features knitted together in worry as she scurried away hurriedly, clearly worried about triggering a hailstorm of wrath. She knew how possessive her mistress was of the Duke. But I wasn¡¯t technically her mistress. I had her memories but I was still me, wasn¡¯t I?


    The Turner family rose to prominence when her father rose up the ranks in Parliament and eventually became the Lead Minister of the Cabinet. He had the ear of the King and a long ancestry of nobility to back it up. Elizabeth was always adorned in the lavish fineries and surrounded by luxuries. Her appearance is striking¡ªporcelain skin, cascading curls perfectly styled, and eyes that gleam like jewels. Yet, such beauty is marred by an air of entitlement and arrogance. Her elegance masks an unyielding temper, often flaring without warning. She moves with poise but also with an air of superiority that dictates her every action. When displeased, the halls echoed with her curses, the floor would be littered with broken fineries and the servants covered in bruises. It is no wonder that even the closest of her maids, Lily, would cower away in fear of her oncoming wrath.


    In the novel, the wedding was a turning point, everything after would be a downward spiral for the Turner family. Prior to the ceremony, Elizabeth Turner, the second female lead, had a blessed life ¨C she could wreak havoc wherever she went without so much as losing a hair. Her father, Mr. Turner, clashed with Mr Arnoult due to political differences, so together they orchestrated the crime and incarceration of the Arnoult family. However, these adversities would go on wash away the innocence in Charlotte¡¯s eyes and replaced will be the burning determination for vengeance that will eventually consume the Turner¡¯s family.


    As a reader, I was repulsed by the stark contrast of the grand banquet that the antagonists celebrated in and the grimy jail cells the protagonists suffered in. Now everything just seemed like one long sarcastic joke that went on for way too long. It felt like the heavens were mocking me. Even the warmth of bath couldn¡¯t alleviate the chilling nervousness in my chest. I stared blankly as the misty vapours blurred my vision. Elizabeth¡¯s led a life of deceit, jealousy and crime. Her malicious actions led to her tragic ending. An ending, that I have clapped to as a reader ¨C the feel-good factor, the thrill of being able to punish the evil and the satisfaction that justice might be late but it will always prevail never failed to give me a good dopamine rush. This, now left me with nothing but squirming uneasiness with the gift of foresight ¨C first, the fall from grace as her deeds slowly unravel, watching her family slowly get devoured by the sins of their past and then finally face an excruciating death blade by blade, until she laid motionless in the freezing cold of the snowy night. Her blood seeping redness into the surrounding pure white snow that surrounded her like a morbid picture.


    Whatever satisfaction I felt as a reader, melted into a chilling shudders at the thought of having to experience this first-hand. It was as if fate was mocking me with a cruel curl of his lip. The male lead''s temperament was typical of a romance novel archetype ¨C he was cold and distant to others, but extremely protective towards his loved ones.


    Initially, in the labyrinth of her deceit, she meticulously wove a tapestry of falsehoods, each thread delicately spun to ensnare his heart. Armed with the knowledge of his past, she concocted an intricate illusion, weaving herself seamlessly into the fabric of his memories. Despite the absence of true love, he found himself inexplicably entangled in a desire to protect her, an instinctual need to shield her from harm. It wasn''t an emotion born from the depths of his heart but rather a sense of duty entwined with the illusion she spun. It was only after the veil of illusion she had carefully crafted was tore apart, leaving behind a desolate landscape of broken trust and shattered illusions, did he turn his back and left her to the cliff that she had cornered herself onto.


    Looking back, it was 10 days after the ceremony that the Arnoult family¡¯s faced execution on the back of treason evidence planted by the Turners. Although the main character managed to evade capture and tried to seek help from the male lead. This was only to stumble upon his wedding ceremony with her supposed friend, Elizabeth. Disheartened, she chose to conceal her identity as his childhood love interest but it was as if there was an echo of a deeper connection that pulsed within him¡ªa cosmic pull toward his true love. A constellation of fate guiding his heart even in the midst of the tangled emotions woven by the illusionist''s deceit. Driven by an irrepressible force, he took off without any hesitation ¨C the echoes her troubles reverberated within him. At Charlotte¡¯s most helpless moment, through the curtain of rain, emerged the silhouette of the man she never dared hope would come to her rescue. His figure, determined and resolute, cut through the deluge as he navigated the slick pathways toward her. Shivering in the alleys, when their eyes met in a moment that seemed to suspend time, her earlier resolve crumbled and she followed him back despite his marriage. Thereafter, she witnessed the execution of her entire family, and she swore to seek vengeance on all those who caused her family this pain. Taking refuge under the Duke¡¯s wing, she investigated her family¡¯s case in secret and developed a complex relationship with the him over time.


    I couldn''t have timed my jump into this life worse - jumping in right on the wedding night. It was almost as if I willed myself into this tragedy.


    The sins have already been committed. As I pondered the circumstances of this new life, an unsettling weight settled upon my shoulders¡ªa legacy not of my making but one I was inexplicably bound to. The echoes of the previous soul''s misdeeds whispered hauntingly, painting my future with hues of apprehension.


    Lost in my thoughts, I traced aimless patterns in the water, oblivious to its slow cooling against the winter''s grasp. The initial warmth that had embraced me now felt distant, a forgotten luxury in the turmoil of my mind. As I reclined, the tension in my muscles betrayed my inner turmoil. I sighed, an exhalation weighted with vexation, as if trying to release the tension that coiled within me. It was the voice of Lily that once again snapped me back into my current reality.


    "Miss... the... Duke has had a bit much in the hall. He didn''t want to disturb you and sent word that he''d be resting in his study tonight." Her voice trembled from behind the shower screen


    True to the timeline, this should be the moment the Duke discovered Charlotte¡¯s trail, and the start of their love story.


    As I rose from the bath, a shiver cascaded through me, the fading warmth of the water replaced by a sudden chill in the air. Droplets clung to my skin, tracing transient paths as they slid downward, a gentle reminder of the sanctuary I was leaving behind. Their love story was the least of my worries.


    In the quiet recesses of my mind, a voice yearned to defy this preordained fate, to break free from the shadow cast by the past occupant of this existence. A resolve emerged¡ªa flickering flame amid the gloom¡ªurging me to carve my path, to inscribe my story with deeds of goodwill and rectitude. I could forge a destiny distinct from the tainted narrative I inherited.


    In the quiet solitude of the moment, I found myself silently assessing the situation that unfolded before me. The air hung heavy with a tense calmness, and I became an observer amidst the ebb and flow of events.


    The first issue is the grudge with the main character, Charlotte Arnoult. The damage has been done, her family is incarcerated. How can I reconcile the actions of a soul I never knew with the yearning to right her wrongs? The shadows of her deeds linger, casting doubt upon the possibility of redemption, yet I can''t abandon the hope for atonement. The notion of forgiveness felt like an elusive mirage, shimmering just beyond my reach.


    The second issue is the current marriage to the male lead, Duke Alexander Smith. His infatuation with Elizabeth was built on the foundation of lies and deceit. Now, only Charlotte and I knew the truth. In the depths of my turmoil, there''s a quiet resolve stirring within ¨C a determination to confront the truth, to lay bare the deceit that shackles me to a fabricated past. But the fear of the aftermath, the uncertainty of their reaction, keeps me rooted in indecision. HI straightened my back, it was only a question of when and how I come clean. If Charlotte bared the truth before I confessed, forgiveness would truly be out of my grasp.


    In the original storyline, Charlotte chose to bury the truth until Elizabeth¡¯s fa?ade was torn apart years down the road to confess her true identity as his childhood love interest. The beads of sweat form an intricate constellation on my brow, a testament to the fervent intensity of my contemplation. I had some time to change his perspective ¨C there was still a possibility of crafting a future woven with threads of goodness and sincerity. Would an earnest attempt to overwrite the dark chapters of my past? Each act of kindness becomes a brushstroke on the canvas of my redemption, a testament to the genuine remorse that stirs within me. Maybe with that foundation of goodwill, he will still leave me a path out even after the truth surfaces¡­perhaps I could keep my life.


    As the timeline within the novel stands, I still have a few years to alter the storyline. As long as I alter my course of actions, there would surely be changes to the future.


    The uncertain future holds within it the seeds of transformation¡ªa chance to rewrite the narrative, to forge a destiny that isn''t bound by the shackles of past misdeeds. The chance to alter the course of my story is a comforting notion, fuelling a sense of determination and resilience in the face of the unknown.


    I exhale, a heavy breath carrying the weight of my thoughts as I peered into the starry skies. I just wanted to survive.

 Changing Destiny

    ¡°Her Grace, it''s getting late, you should rise. You have to enter the palace today,¡± came Lily''s chirping in just as I finally dozed off.


    The title felt somewhat awkward, but seeing Lily''s exuberance, I mustered up a tired smile. The heaviness in my thoughts, a weight that lingered from hours spent tossing and turning, barely allowed me to take a couple hours of restless sleep. Last night''s worries had weighed heavily on me, barely allowing me two or three hours of restless sleep. A pounding, persistent ache throbbing behind my temples. My eyes betrayed the lack of rest, carrying the weight of fatigue despite my attempts to conceal it. As I dressed, I couldn''t help but notice the dark circles beneath my eyes, reminders of the restless hours spent lost in thoughts that refused to quiet down.


    Lily noticed the subtle signs of weariness etched across her mistress''s face. As she delicately applied the makeup, her skilled hands moved with precision, yet she couldn''t ignore the slight tremble in her employer''s fingers, a tell-tale sign of exhaustion. Carefully, she soothed me, ¡°His Grace was perhaps occupied yesterday. He still cares deeply for you. You are his one and only bride.¡±


    I nodded absentmindedly as she coaxed on and turned to the wardrobe. My mind was still clouded by the lingering effects of a sleepless night, the ache in my head persisting despite her attempts to soothe. Scanning through a cabinet full of white gowns, I couldn''t help but furrow my brows. "Why is everything white?"


    Lily paused, "Your Grace, you''ve always liked white, haven''t you?"


    Well, this seemed to align with the pure, innocent and angelic stereotypical image Elizabeth was trying to project, didn¡¯t it?


    Just as I was about to ask Lily to arrange for a spectrum of hues going forward, I heard an announcement call in from outside, "His Grace has arrived."


    Spinning back almost instinctively, I turned to see him entering the room. As he walked in, the sun seemed to form a halo around him, backlighting his silhouette, casting a golden glow that seemed to outline his striking profile. He was tall, his posture exuding confidence, each step purposeful as he crossed the threshold. There was an air of elegance in the way he moved, a subtle grace that accompanied his every gesture.


    His features were sculpted, chiselled almost, framed by the sunlight that highlighted his strong jawline and emphasized the gentle curve of his lips. His eyes, a mesmerizing hue, seemed to catch the sunlight, sparkling with an intensity that held a depth of emotions.


    Dressed impeccably, he exuded an effortless charm, his attire enhancing his magnetic presence. It was as though the room itself brightened in his presence, the air charged with an energy that was both exhilarating and calming.


    As I stood there, momentarily taken aback by his sudden appearance, a rush of emotions flooded through me. There was a sense of awe in witnessing his entrance, a sense of empathy washed over me ¨C I was starting to understand why Elizabeth was so persistent in her pursuit for his love. His presence alone felt like a ray of light breaking through the clouds, momentarily dispelling the haze of fatigue and uncertainty that had enveloped me earlier.


    I shook my head as I caught myself, a mental nudge to refrain from dwelling too deeply on the allure that had momentarily captivated me. It was a conscious effort to pull back from the brink of fascination, to avoid getting lost in the complexities that seemed to beckon from behind his eyes.


    He strode over to me and bent over a little as he gazed apologetically at me, "I indulged in too much wine last night and fearing I would disturb your rest, I told the servants to let you rest early while I retired to the study. I hope Elizabeth, you wouldn¡¯t be upset with me."


    There was a hesitation in his eyes, a flicker of evasion, almost as if he were navigating a delicate balance between truth and the fabrications woven into his words. According to the current timeline, Charlotte should be back in our residence. At this point, the Duke had already developed feelings for the main character. Despite being unaware of her identity, there seemed to be a cosmic pull, an urge to go to her, a sense of keenness to protect her.


    As the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings raged on the wildly on the inside, I masked on a polite smile and practised the curtesy that I had hastily learned from Lily earlier. ¡°Your Grace, I would never.¡±


    But before I could complete the curtesy, the Duke interrupted, halting my movement with a gentle yet decisive pull. His hands exuded a subtle warmth that seemed to transcend the physical touch. When he took my hand, there was a comforting sensation that spread through me, a gentle heat that wasn''t just skin deep but resonated within. There was a look of genuine concern etched across his face, a sincerity that softened his features as he looked at me. His actions conveyed a sense of understanding, as if he wanted to dispel any formality that might have hindered our genuine interaction.


    "Please," he said, his voice carrying a tone of warmth and reassurance. "We needn''t observe such formalities in private moments."


    His words resonated with a kindness that embraced the authenticity of the moment, a desire to foster a more genuine connection beyond the confines of societal expectations.


    If only he knew what kind of person Elizabeth truly was. What kind of pain she had put his true love through. Would he still be as kind as he was today? No, he would hate me and he wouldn¡¯t hesitate to kill me. I pushed back the weight of these constant stream of thoughts as I squeezed out a dainty smile and resisted the impulse to yank my hand out of his grip.


    Time was short, and so we readied ourselves directly to enter the palace without so much as a breakfast together. As we stepped into the carriage, a wave of opulence greeted me - the fine interior adorned with exquisite details, luxurious fabrics, and elegant furnishings. The plush seats, embroidered with intricate designs, contrasted starkly with our physical proximity, which felt almost intimate yet emotionally distant.


    Throughout the journey, Duke Alexander''s gaze wandered, likely pondering over the arrangements for Charlotte.


    Our physical proximity became a juxtaposition against the backdrop of lavishness¡ªa stark reminder of the emotional separation, each lost in our own thoughts despite the confined space that brought us together physically. The gilded setting stood in contrast to the emotional distance that lingered, almost tangible in the silence that enveloped us.


    Amidst the grandeur of the carriage''s interior, the gap between our thoughts seemed to widen, echoing the stark contrast between the luxurious surroundings and the mental space that divided us, as we journeyed side by side yet lost in our separate contemplations. The Duke remained oblivious, while I, observed with an air of nonchalance like the author from the side lines. Was it his coldness that drove Elizabeth¡¯s obsession to committing such crimes just for more affection?


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    The is the juncture that the secondary male protagonist will be introduced, King Richard III, the reigning monarch of the land who happens to be a sworn god-brother of Duke Alexander. They grew up together and appeared to share a strong bond. He will subsequently run into Charlotte in a chance encounter and fall deeply in love with her as well. He will even attempt to make her his queen against his entire court, regardless of the treason charges carried by the Arnoult family. This will necessarily result in the falling out of the brothers and an intense rivalry over her affections.


    Authors seem to have this penchant for such cruelty. Beauty constructed under their pen conceived for the sole purpose of being destroyed later with strife and enmity.


    Not only him, another male antagonist, Prince Henri, from a neighbouring country who would be making an appearance soon on these lands, would also fall head over heels for Charlotte. While loitering around the city¡¯s defence in the evening, he would narrowly escape the soldiers and be saved by Charlotte. Thereby being dragged into this Mary Sue-esque conflict over love.


    Reflecting on the plot, Charlotte just seemed to attract men effortlessly. With the aura of the lead female protagonist, men however astute or cold, had an inexplicable attraction towards her. In sombre contrast, would be Elizabeth also known as me, now. She seemed to be devoid of any genuine affection or care. The foundation of her relationships were transactional ¨C nobody really cared about what happened to her as long as it didn¡¯t impact their interests.


    My stomach pinched in queasiness ¨C this author was too biased. I made a mental note to even the playing field when and if I was ever able to go back to sequel. Despite the gravity of her misdeeds, I found a thread of empathy weaving through the fabric of her story. It was a sudden realization, an awakening to the understanding that her actions, though unforgivable, stemmed from a place of profound loneliness and yearning for acknowledgement. Elizabeth had always lived in the shadow of another - a constant companion to someone else''s light. Over time, the weight of jealousy had taken a toll, warping her psyche in ways unforeseen within the walls of this repressed ancient society. To empathize with her wasn''t to condone her sins, but rather to recognize the intricate layers of pain and desperation that had shaped her path. As I pondered over the injustices of life and it¡¯s long faring impact, the carriage rolled to a stop. We have arrived at the palace.


    I watched the Duke alight first, his graceful movements speaking volumes about his innate elegance. Then, with a gentle lean, he extended his hand towards me, an offer to assist. His smile, radiant like the morning sun, had this inexplicable effect¡ªit was as if the warmth of that smile seeped into me, making my heart skip a beat and my knees a tad bit unsteady. Taking his hand, I felt a surge of exhilaration, a fluttering sensation that hinted at a hidden excitement within me. His touch, though brief, left an imprint, a tingling sensation that lingered. My face burned red as I lowered my head and pulled my hand back.


    I am a modern, independent University Graduate armed with past relationships. Was I being influenced by the ancient society? I tugged my gown as I readjusted it a little busily, trying to dispel the awkwardness that was blushing through my veins.


    Tailing behind the Duke, I couldn''t help but feel a surge of awe at the grandeur that greeted me. The sprawling gardens stretched out like a tapestry of nature''s finest artwork, vibrant blooms weaving a colourful carpet beneath towering trees that seemed to reach for the sky.


    As we made our way through the gardens, I attempted to maintain composure, to lower my gaze and act nonchalant, as if the beauty surrounding us didn''t leave an impression. It was a delicate balance between suppressing my admiration and subtly acknowledging the splendour that surrounded us. It took all that I had to lower my head and put on an air of indifference ¨C this wasn¡¯t new to Elizabeth. I bit my tongue as I chided myself inwardly.


    Amidst the lush greenery and vibrant blooms, there stood the imposing figure of the king, a commanding presence even from afar. He was surrounded by a retinue of courtiers, their hushed conversations and deferential gestures highlighting his stature. The way he carried himself exuded authority, his demeanour regal and dignified, as if the very air around him held a sense of reverence. Before we could approach, he strode over to us.


    "My brother, you are finally here! I wanted to attend your wedding yesterday but Mother was worried it might disturb you both, so I refrained."


    As I performed the curtsy, lowering my gaze in a show of respect, I couldn''t help but steal a glance at the king as I rose. His face, illuminated by a ray of sunlight, held a striking resemblance to the Duke. His features, reminiscent of his brother''s, possessed a similar allure¡ªa strong jawline, sharp yet kind eyes, and a confident yet approachable posture. The king''s face, framed by the sunlight, bore a timeless handsomeness, with defined features that carried a sense of authority softened by a welcoming expression. His eyes held a depth that invited curiosity, a warmth that belied the responsibilities he bore.


    The brothers engrossed themselves in conversation, their words weaving a tapestry of discussions that seemed to delve into matters of state and family. As they spoke, I stood at the side-lines, an observer to their discourse, I tried to maintain a composed demeanour, nodding politely whenever their gaze briefly met mine, but inwardly, a sense of restlessness crept in. It was only after a gentle nudge from the entourage that the Queen Mother was waiting for our arrival, that they finally begrudgingly made their way to her quarters.


    Apart from the fleeting moment when the king acknowledged my presence during the greetings, his sight never graced my direction again. In all fairness, I would consider Elizabeth a rare beauty in her own right, but she never seemed to attract anyone in her own right. I guess in a world revolving around Charlotte, that halo effect was reserved solely for her.


    Walking into the drawing room of the Queen Mother was like stepping into a scene from a bygone era. The room exuded an air of refined elegance, adorned with ornate furnishings and rich tapestries that whispered tales of history. The soft glow of chandeliers cast a warm ambience, illuminating the opulent space adorned with antique furniture, delicate china, and exquisite paintings adorning the walls. It was a space that seemed frozen in time, a sanctuary where tradition and sophistication melded seamlessly. The atmosphere was hushed, carrying an air of dignity and grace. The fragrance of fresh flowers lingered, mingling with the subtle scent of polished wood and aged books. Each piece of furniture bore the mark of craftsmanship and heritage, adding to the room''s timeless allure.


    The Empress Dowager, her wrinkles and greying hair, was reclined atop a grand throne at the head of her drawing room. Next to her sat the favoured imperial mistress, Lady Buckingham resplendently dressed in colourful silks and adornments. An air of authority hung about her despite not having been named queen yet, for she ruled the courts with an iron fist ¨C confident that it was only a matter of time that she would be granted that official title.


    We knelt before the Queen Mother, heads bowed in respect. She smiled graciously, seemingly amiable and kind. But I knew better than to let my guard down around her - she was the woman who had fought her way to the top of the harem. Rumours of her dislike for Elizabeth had been whispered along the corridors. As a seasoned wielder of power, she had a keen sense of the hearts and despised those who manipulated the vulnerability in other¡¯s hearts for their own means.


    As if sensing my hesitation, her gaze shifted sharply from the Duke towards me, the warmth in her eyes replaced by sternness. "You are now married into the Smith household - you must behave as befits your station as a Duchess and do nothing that would besmirch it." The words were laced with an implicit threat and a silent demand for compliance.


    The Queen Mother and the King must have been aware of the part Elizabeth played behind the scenes to corner the Duke into proposing marriage. That would explain the frostiness in their tone and their lack of approval towards me. It appears that apart from the Duke, nobody else was beguiled by the innocent and vulnerable act that Elizabeth played. Without any allies or good favour, it was no wonder that Elizabeth would have such a tragic ending the moment she was deserted by the Duke.


    It was one of those classic stories in tear-jerker love tales: the male protagonist always has faith in the vicious antagonist at first and goes through dozens of misunderstandings with his true love before overcoming all challenges to be together.


    After tonight''s unpleasant revelations, I comprehended this reality. Altering fate all at once might be hopelessly difficult, but changing another¡¯s perspective of me was a more potentially more manageable first step. Under ordinary circumstances, Elizabeth would have looked to the Duke to defend her. So, the Queen Mother¡¯s harsh words were probably meant to provoke me. If I displayed any temper at all, she would take the opportunity to lecture me further.


    "Thank you for your wise advice, Your Highness. I will do my utmost best to follow your instructions."


    I looked into the Empress Dowager''s eyes undauntedly, envisioning her to be a boss who had just given me a raise, exhibiting utter devotion to my dollars.


    The Empress Dowager''s piercing gaze bore down upon me as I stood in the middle of the room. She had expected a much different response from me ¨C something far more rebellious. Her eyes narrowed, perplexed. She pressed, ¡°Remembering is not enough; you must act upon it."


    My mouth twitched involuntarily at the sight of her - this tiny stature of a woman who commanded an entire court. I was somehow drawn to this old lady, how lonely and tired she must be, defending her position in this cunning world.


    ¡°I will take your advice to heart and act upon it in the future; practicing self-restraint and proper etiquette," I replied humbly, head bowed. Completely unbothered by the surprised looks.


    My attitude was enough to sway the Empress Dowager slightly. It even drew a sidelong glance from the King. It was as if I had set the first pawn onto the board ¨C changing my image and getting her to change her views


    I had found the first milestone to achieve in my survival gameplay for a malicious female second lead: change my image.

 Shifting Perspectives

    After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the King and the Duke excused themselves to the study and disappeared into the garden. It was unclear what was discussed between them, but it seemed to be related to state affairs and neighbourly ties. The bond between the brothers were truly strong before the King met and fell in love with Charlotte too, I noted.


    I felt utterly drained, sitting here amidst the incessant chatter nearby between the Queen Mother and Lady Buckingham, my temples pounded rhythmically like two drums. But I pinched myself into a poised seating posture and forced a painted smile as I lowered my gaze to the marble floors, trying to snuffle an impending yawn. The Queen Mother continued to cast me a few resentful glances in between conversation and made sure to be purposeful about leaving me an outcast. Naturally, Lady Buckingham didn¡¯t risk crossing her, and kept any interactions with me to the minimum.


    Treating me as invisible although a purposeful ostracising exercise by the Queen Mother as a sign of displeasure towards me, was oddly not at all uncomfortable for me ¨C I was used to it after years of working in a corporate environment where I found myself fading into the background whenever I ate out with my bosses. Being a wallflower was in fact, second nature for me.


    As time drifted on, the throbbing in my head seems to synchronize with the passing moments, each pulse marking the passage of time. It''s as if every tick of the clock amplifies the ache, stretching minutes into endless eternities. The backlash of sleepless night was backfiring on me. I made a mental note to take the opportunity and free time on my hands to exercise and improve my health with all the nourishments that this ancient society had to offer. After all, I was a Duchess now ¨C expensive herbs and tonics shouldn¡¯t be difficult to obtain. I quietly raised my right hand to massage my temple, hoping to ease the pressure.


    ¡°Is Elizabeth displeased with my words?¡± the Queen Mother suddenly turned and shot the question, penetrating through my shroud of throbbing pain.


    My hand froze as it met the Queen Mother¡¯s chilly gaze.


    I... I wasn¡¯t paying attention. I was just trying to massage away a headache. What exactly did they say? This felt exactly like being called on by your boss for an opinion at a group meeting when you weren¡¯t paying attention at an unrelated presentation.


    I paused, but before I could react the Queen Mother persisted with another question, "Tell me, what are the most important values for a woman?"


    It''s like trying to retrieve something forgotten, clawing through the depths of memory. I strained to grasp at those elusive memories, like a forgetful student ¨C I tried desperately to recall how the Queen Mother was like in the novel. I steadied my breath before responding, ¡°In accordance with our ancestors¡¯ teachings ¨C women are to be loyal and obey their fathers before marriage and then their husbands after marriage.¡±


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Going forward, you should focus on self-improvement and promoting harmony within the family. Only then will you be able to effectively manage the household and support your husband.¡± The Queen Mother turned her shoulders ever so lightly, as she lowered her head in begrudging approval.


    When it came to giving me a lecture, the Queen Mother truly never missed a beat. She must detest Elizabeth.


    ¡°Thank you for your reminder, I will bear that in mind.¡±, I chimed respectfully, lowering my back in a humble bow.


    Noticing the tension in the air, Lady Buckingham was quick to shift the topic. Lady Qi, noticing the unpleasant atmosphere, tactfully shifted the topic to the new goldfish in the imperial garden pond.


    Feeling the tension between the Queen Mother and me, Lady Buckingham deftly diverted the subject to the new goldfish in the imperial garden pond. The Queen Mother¡¯s eyes lit up as she chuckled, ¡°Well, it is a beautiful day out there. I shouldn¡¯t keep the flowers in the room ¨C let¡¯s go for a walk and see the fishes on the way.¡±


    As the entourage made their way out, I hung behind. Lowering my back in respect and shuffling to the back. The Queen Mother strode at the front, Lady Buckingham by her side but ever so subtly a couple of steps behind while the servants followed in two orderly lines. As she approached the door, the Queen Mother paused. She shifted her step in a half-turn and waved her hand. ¡°Follow along Elizabeth, what are you waiting for?¡±


    I widened my eyes in surprise, my pupils darted around in a momentary frenzy. Thankfully, my bowed stature concealed my expression in the shadows. With a controlled breath, I regained my composure and curtsied in response before joining the procession at the tail. The other court ladies sought to please the Queen Mother, gathering around her as they excitedly discussed the fishes in the pond.


    I relegated myself to a corner, an outsider in this unfamiliar world, I felt more at ease observing them from the side. Watching their excitement over the fishes, a wave of sympathy washed over me. Women in the past were regarded as objects or rather assets, they had little control over their lives and even lesser freedom. Even the swimming fishes was a rare luxury, only privy to the precious ladies of the court. It was an incredibly dull topic, but the chatter continued for hours.


    I grimaced, how long more would I have to stay in this archaic society?


    Almost as soon as the frown came, I felt a glance dart across the pavilion. I quickly looked up but it was gone almost as soon as it had come. Perhaps it was my imagination, I waved that thought away and painted on my professional smile.


    As the ladies perched over the pavilion to take a better look at the fishes, flashbacks of movie scenes came to me ¨C damsels in distress failing their hands for rescue. If the Queen Mother fell into the pond and I saved her, would that change her impression of me completely? I wasn¡¯t an expert in the waters, but I did have a decent foundation with all my past swimming lessons. I might even be granted a plaque of bravery that could indemnify me of my past crimes!


    I tried to hold in my chuckle at my fanciful day-dream. The Queen Mother was well-protected, why would she ever be in such a position? Living in these four walls where everybody wanted to gain her favour ¨C she would never be silly enough to jump into the pond and nobody would dare to even so much as lay a finger on her.


    Without warning, a forceful thrust disrupted my reverie. Shock surged through me as I stumbled forward, my balance betraying me, sending me careening into the chilling embrace of the pond. I let out a yelp. The world shifted, sound drowned in the rushing deluge of water that enveloped me.


    The icy tendrils of the pond clawed at my skin, stealing the warmth from my body, and panic surged. Instinctively, I fought against the suffocating grip of the water, my heart pounding a frenzied rhythm against my chest. Confusion clouded my mind, mingling with the stinging betrayal etched in my thoughts.


    Who pushed me? This didn¡¯t happen in the original novel plotline, why did it happen this round? Was the consequence of me changing the original path going to kill me off before I even have a chance to redeem the sins made by Elizabeth? The questions spiraled as I grappled with the cold reality that seemed so far removed from my daydreams.