NoPantsNick

Synopsis
A modern woman. A tainted reputation. A crown she never wanted.

Lynn Carter, a sharp-tongued gamer girl, never expected to wake up as Eleanor Sterling—the infamous “Scarlet Rose” of the Visterian Empire. Known for her beauty, cunning, and ahem, scandalous escapades, Eleanor is the last woman King Sebastian Leohart would ever choose as queen. Too bad her father, the prime minister, forced the marriage to consolidate power.

Now, trapped in a body with a wicked past, Lynn must navigate a court full of vipers, a husband who despises her, and a swarm of suitors who think “notorious” means “available.” But this modern girl has a few tricks up her sleeve.

Dare to underestimate her? She’ll outmaneuver you with wit sharper than a dagger.
Dare to scorn her? Watch the empire’s “first harlot” become its most brilliant strategist.
Dare to ignore her? Pray you never see her smile—especially while she’s burning your armies to ash over tea.

And then there are the men—so many infuriatingly gorgeous men—who can’t seem to decide whether to ruin her or worship her:

The King: Sebastian Leohart, the frosty monarch with blood-red eyes and snow-white hair. He married her for politics, but he can’t seem to stay away.

The Scholar-Saint: A genius as pure as untouched snow, who loves her despite her body’s sins.

The Warlord: A conqueror who would raze kingdoms for her smile, even as she drives a dagger into his back.

The Shadow: Her most loyal knight, guarding her by day, and burning for her by night.

But beneath all the glitter and games, something darker stirs.
Eleanor’s soul wasn’t the first to inhabit this body.
And someone wants the new queen dead...

Crimson Rose Queen

(The Cage of Thread)

Nurse Margaret unfurled embroidery hoops like funeral shrouds. "The Queen must showcase domestic virtue," she insisted, smoothing phoenix-patterned silk. "His Majesty may demand proof of your... refinement upon return."

I jabbed the needle. "Like this?" Crimson thread bloomed like a wound across the golden bird's breast.

Thunk. The needle impaled the fabric, quivering like a dying thing.

(Jasmine and Venom)

Near midnight, the garden gate whined open—a sound like a soul in torment.

"You came." The voice was velvet dipped in frost.

There, veiled in jasmine vines that wept fragrant tears: Lady Cassandra Leohart. Sebastian's widowed aunt. The court's whispered "White Viper"—poison in ermine gloves.

Her gloved hand brushed my cheek, cold as a grave slab. "You dance the razor's edge well, little rose. But the overture is ended."

She pressed a slip of rice paper into my palm. Unfolding it revealed three words in spidery ink that crawled like scorpions:

FIND LILLIAN. NOW.

Chapter 18: Needles and Knives