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

We arrived breathless at Rosemont Manor. Safely in my chamber, I collapsed. Primrose hovered, perplexed. "But the honor, Milady! The first Queen acclaimed thus!"

"An honor akin to shackles," I groaned. "Leave me."

Dinner passed without incident – Chancellor Thorne was dining out. Sleep, however, evaded me. Visions of poetic mobs and Sterling's piercing gaze fueled restless hours. Dawn found me hollow-eyed.

My maid, Heather, gasped. "Heavens, Milady! Your eyes!"

The mirror confirmed: twin shadows of violet, bloodshot whites. "A remedy, Heather! Quickly! I cannot face the household like this!"

Miraculously masked, I descended to breakfast. Chancellor Thorne's gaze was glacial. "A Queen slouches like a scullery wench? Where is your bearing?"

"Lack of sustenance, Father," I yawned theatrically. "Unlike you, nourished by righteous indignation."

Lady Rosalind intervened. "Arthur, please! Eleanor is weary. What troubled your sleep, child?"

I met the Chancellor's glare. "Dreams, Mother. Vivid… lonely dreams. The Palace is… isolating. One's thoughts wander… to warmer company."

Lady Rosalind paled. Chancellor Thorne surged to his feet. "Filthy-minded wretch! You disgrace your station! This demands correction!" He bellowed to the footmen. "Fetch the birch rod! The stoutest!"

Lady Rosalind clung to his arm. "Arthur, no! She speaks truth! Would she endure the Crown's gilded prison without filial duty?"

I remained motionless, my voice icy. "Let him strike, Mother. Death is preferable to his hypocritical affection."

"Then die you shall!" Thorne roared, shaking off his wife. "I renounce you!"

Lady Rosalind stumbled, weeping. "She is our only child!"

Watching her desperation, a cold resolve settled within me. When Thorne raised the rod, Lady Rosalind threw herself before me. "Strike me!"

"Never!" Her defiance was absolute.

Thorne's face purpled, a vein throbbing at his temple. I gently touched her shoulder. "Stand aside, Mother. I shall handle this."

Trembling, she yielded. Thorne advanced, rod poised. "Do you acknowledge my authority?"

"Do you acknowledge my humanity, Father?" My gaze never wavered. "Respect is reciprocal. Affection demands nurture. Do you comprehend this?"

"I think not," I said softly. "Strike me. Shatter your years of scheming. Render your grand design void. See how the pieces fall without your compliant pawn."

The rod faltered. His eyes narrowed, calculating. "What… what do you imply?"

A cold smile touched my lips. "Your ambitions are transparent. Threaten me again, and the Queen you crafted becomes the architect of your ruin. This pawn knows the game, Chancellor. And she refuses to be sacrificed."

The birch rod clattered to the floor. The silence was deafening. The chessboard, I saw in his stunned gaze, had just been overturned.

Chapter 26 - The Chancellor’s Wrath