CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Mission, Survive the Royal Blind Date

If someone had told Annabelle she'd transmigrate into a novel she once insulted online, she might've laughed. After all, who in their right mind would voluntarily step into a world filled with ridiculous nobles, over-the-top drama, and an infuriatingly perfect protagonist? But here she was, stuck in the middle of a royal matchmaking scheme disguised as a National Founding Day Banquet.

And she wasn't laughing anymore.

"It's a royal blind date disguised as a celebration," Annabelle groaned, slumping dramatically in her chair, dangling the Emperor's decree like it was a used napkin. The parchment was still crisp, but to her, it felt like a death sentence.

Nicholas, ever the drama king, snatched it from her hands and began reading aloud in his most pompous voice, emphasizing every syllable with flair. "All noble daughters must attend the National Founding Day Banquet in the capital." He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Oh no! What if I get proposed to? I simply can't marry a prince without a proper proposal speech! My standards are too high!"

Isaac, the eldest and always calm, raised an eyebrow from his corner. His piercing eyes glanced over Nicholas with cool indifference. "You're not a daughter."

"You don't know my truth," Nicholas whispered dramatically, flicking his hair with exaggerated grace.

Annabelle snorted. "Seriously, Nicholas? This isn't a time for you to explore your feelings about being a princess."

Isaac didn't even blink. "Children," their father grunted from his recliner, his attention focused entirely on a newspaper. Count Dorne didn't speak much, but when he did, it was usually while eating or reading something that could put people to sleep. Today, it was the latest trade reports.

Lady Dorne sighed, adjusting her bonnet with graceful precision—something she'd perfected after years of surviving the chaos of the Dorne household. "We leave in two weeks," she said, her voice steady but commanding. "Start packing."

Annabelle's face morphed into one of horror. "I REFUSE!" she wailed, flopping dramatically onto the floor like a tragic princess about to faint. "If I go, the protagonist will start her journey! I'll be dragged into the plot! DO YOU WANT ME TO BE A SIDE CHARACTER WITH NO SCREEN TIME?!"

Ethan, her quiet and aloof youngest brother, sat off to the side, sipping his tea with an air of detached interest. "Yes."

"Ethan, you wound me," Annabelle sighed theatrically, pressing her hands to her chest. "Here I am, having a crisis, and all you can do is sip your tea in cold silence. I thought we were family."

"I'm hoping you'll faint and get excused from the entire thing," Ethan muttered, not even looking up from his cup.

Annabelle gasped in mock offense. "I knew you cared!"

Ethan's eyes slowly blinked. "I don't."

"Ouch," Annabelle said, clutching her chest like she had just been struck by an arrow. "This is too much, even for me. You were the one who used to share all your toys with me. How could you betray me like this?"

Isaac, passing by and clearly done with the theatrics, muttered, "Just don't burn down the estate while you're playing princess in distress. I really don't feel like explaining that to Father."

Annabelle grinned mischievously. "Oh, Isaac, you underestimate me. I have everything under control."

As if to emphasize her point, she immediately turned to a stack of papers piled on her desk, her hands moving with furious precision as she began scribbling notes. "Master Gilroy gets the glassware orders, Madame Leah will handle the tailors. If anyone ruins my peacock-feather brooch display, I will personally haunt them for the rest of their lives. I'm not kidding."

Nicholas, the perpetual mischief-maker, popped into her room without warning, grinning from ear to ear. "Want me to prank your staff before we go? I can make it… memorable."

Annabelle's eyes sparkled with delight at the thought. "Are you offering to cause chaos for me?"

"Well, I was going to do it anyway, but now it feels noble," Nicholas said, sitting casually on her bed as if this was a normal conversation.

Annabelle clasped her hands together, grinning like a mastermind. "If you're going to do it, you'd better be sneaky. I want to see their faces when they realize they've been had."

Isaac, still standing in the doorway, glanced at the two of them with an unreadable expression. "Just don't burn down the estate. Or get caught. It's a bad look."

Their father—Count Dorne, ever the indifferent one—walked in, holding a tray of roasted almonds with an air of casual indifference. "Anyone want almonds?" he asked, barely sparing a glance for anyone in the room.

Annabelle blinked. "That's… unusually thoughtful, Father. Are you trying to impress us?"

Count Dorne looked at her with mild surprise, as if he hadn't realized what he was doing. "I didn't bring them for you. Your mother said I snack too loudly. I thought the almonds might help."

"…Fair enough," Annabelle said, her voice still carrying a hint of disbelief. "Well, now I'm actually touched. Not even an emotional crisis can stop you from being the best father ever."

Her father didn't respond. He simply placed the almonds on the table and walked out, leaving a trail of indifference behind him, as always.

Annabelle let out a sigh, falling back dramatically onto her bed. "So, the National Founding Day is just around the corner. I'm about to be shoved into the middle of a royal matchmaking scheme, and all anyone can think about is whether or not I'll faint and get excused from it. Classic." She glanced at Nicholas. "At least I'm not being dragged into this plot alone. You'll be there too, embarrassing yourself."

Nicholas smirked. "That's true. I'll be the star of the evening, obviously. Who else could possibly steal the spotlight from my charm?"

Isaac shook his head, not even bothering to engage. "We're all going to survive it. Whether we want to or not."

Annabelle groaned, rolling onto her side and burying her face in her pillow. "I don't want to be a side character. I just want to sit this one out, pretend to be a ghost, and maybe start a new business in the capital."

"Well, good luck with that," Isaac said with a grin. "We'll be living with nobles now. You'll have plenty of opportunities to start a business... and possibly ruin a few reputations in the process."

Annabelle's eyes lit up. "Now we're talking."

As the Dorne family settled into their new capital home, there was a silent understanding that the coming National Founding Day would be filled with chaos, drama, and just enough cunning for Annabelle to survive—and maybe even enjoy—her new role in this crazy world.