Eyjafiya

Full Title: I Entered My Brother's Novel, But the Main Character Stole My Fiancée—So I'll Marry Her Father Instead.

Eleanor Gwendolyn was a side character in the last novel my younger brother wrote before he mysteriously vanished—a character burdened with a miserable fate.

Betrayed by her fiancé, who chose her childhood friend with a higher status, Eleanor’s reputation was dragged through the mud. Determined to clear her name, she poured everything into winning the Crown Princess Tournament. Just as victory was within her grasp, her dreams were shattered in the cruelest way imaginable.

On the day she was to be named the Crown Princess, the Crown Prince publicly rejected the election, claiming it had been conducted without his consent. Worse still, he proposed to Eleanor’s childhood friend—the same woman who had stolen her fiancé—right in front of the entire court. In a single moment, Eleanor’s painstaking efforts to restore her honor crumbled, leaving her humiliated once again.

"What a pitiful, wretched life," I had thought as I read her story.

It was almost as if my brother had based Eleanor on me—quiet, introspective, and constantly overshadowed. But out of all the characters in his novel, why did I have to wake up as her?

Now, trapped in Eleanor Gwendolyn’s body, I face the grim reality of her doomed fate. To make matters worse, the plot unfolds exactly as my brother wrote it. I have no choice but to rewrite my own destiny while searching for him in this world he created.

When all else fails and the original plot corners me, I’ll make the boldest move yet: I’ll marry the father of the so-called “heroine” who stole my fiancé.

Because this time, I’m the author’s older sister—and I’ll be the one controlling the story.


Author's Note:
From the beginning until chapter 20, the story primarily focuses on introducing the Main Character's family. Since the MC is still recovering, most of the events take place at home, making the early plot feel somewhat slow. However, I assure you that after chapter 20, the story becomes much more engaging.
Please stick with it, and thank you for reading!

The Heroine Stole My Fiancé so I Marry Her Father

The cobbled streets of the Lower District stretched before Eleanor, bustling with morning activity. The air carried the scent of fresh bread from nearby stalls and the sharp tang of damp stone.

Yet, none of it settled her frayed nerves.

Her crimson eyes darted between the two different hands who had just released her wrists, their retreat cautious, deliberate.

"It seems safe here," one of the men murmured. His voice, oddly straightforward for someone who had just dragged her through the back alleys, held no malice.

"Yes, we're back on the main road," the other replied. He sounded relieved, as though the weight of responsibility had lifted from his shoulders.

Eleanor remained frozen, her small frame still curled defensively, fingers gripping the edge of her hood as though it were her last shield. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the bizarre reality she now faced.

Huh... They let me go...?

Busted—or Not?