Arcane Lachtara was my name after I woke up in an unfamiliar world that was divided into kingdoms where Kings and queens ruled the world. I was an adoptive princess from Ridavell, on my way to Ohearia to form a marriage alliance between the two countries. Actually I knew what was going to happen next, I was about to be played with and then killed… you ask why? Because the place I woke up in is a novel where I am the minor villainess. 
There were three ML’s in the story, A psychopath prince, a War hero Duke and last but not least the two faced mage. She is to die with the hands of the ML’s after she hurts the FL but… “why are you killing me even when I haven’t done anything to the FL?” Arcane cried as the Duke and Mage were always trying to cut off her neck. 
But something is wrong with the cursed Prince,He keeps on calling me his little sister and coax me whenever I am sad.
“Whoever dares to hurt my sister will have to suffer.” He said in a deep monotonous voice, while losing at the FL with a Hostile look in his eyes.

A story of how Arcane lived through the crisis…

Your Highness! I Would Like To Live

Warm Blood trickled down the silvery blade and soaked into the fine navy blue carpet. 


With a merciless gaze, Vasilias looked down at the dead body. His eyes had a reflection of a predator that could swallow its prey with a blink of an eye. 


“Take this filth away.” He spat those words and turned around to pick up a handkerchief from over the golden tray. These were a token of love from his marriage candidates, delivered to him this morning. He wrapped the handkerchief around the top of the blade and smoothly slid it towards the edge to clear the blood off his sword. The white silk handkerchief was now tainted red. He tossed it over the dead body before the guards lifted the body and walked out of the room. The blood from the body dropped on the floor making the room smell like rust. Vasilias placed his sword back in the sheath and looked at the rest of the handkerchiefs. 


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