bunnyreadsabook

I had thought that my life couldn't get worse when I walked in on my fiancé cheating on me with my best friend. But after a series of unfortunate events, I opened my eyes in a world that I had only read about in a webnovel, the Erudian Empire, ruled under the domineering, bloody reign of Emperor Helio. 

The worst part?

I'm not even the main character! Reborn as Winter Royberg de la Erudian, I am the pitiful side character who is discovered to be a royal bastard princess due to a certain physical trait only the imperial bloodline possesses. But I know the end of Winter's story and the unwanted royal punching bag is framed as a witch and killed at age 16 on the guillotine due to the scheming of the cruel empress.

An aloof, murder happy father? Check.
Psycho half-sister? Check.
Meddlesome author who wants me to follow the script? Double check!

I don't want to die an early death again, so I'm determined not to ever be discovered as a royal again. But before I know it, I'm trapped in a palace of blood and opulence playing tricky games of power, games I have no clue how to win. How will I survive to adulthood in the imperial palace and get my happily ever after? And am I really the only person who fell into this world?












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Rise of the Unfavored Princess

The crack of a wood and iron wheel against cobblestone sounds more normal to my ears than rubber car tires on asphalt concrete. Today I sit alone in the carriage; Nina has been relegated to clinging onto the narrow outdoor platform on the outside of the carriage, which I've heard is rather uncomfortable when you are in a skirt as opposed to the practical pants the footmen wear. I see very little point in paying attention to Nina's comforts when she would so quickly entreat the very person she swore she never would.


Besides, she would just spend the entirety of the carriage ride staring at my face in an attempt to discern my thoughts somehow. Her curiosity today when I told her to dress me for a sudden outing to the Grand Temple was palpable, hanging in the air like a thick fog. But it is quite warranted. For the first time, I have not been hailed by the Holy Church.


Ch. 181: Aria the Comedian