faeni

Kim Areum was just your average 24-year-old with an average life, until she died in the most cliché way possible—Truck-kun style. But instead of peace in the afterlife, she finds herself reincarnated as Lady Alexandra, the most hated noblewoman in a romance novel she couldn’t even finish.

Worse, she wakes up in a body that's already pregnant—impregnated by a cold husband who only touched her because he mistook her for his dead first love. To top it off, she remembers just enough of the story to know that Alexandra dies during childbirth.

Armed with half-baked plot knowledge, uncontrollable mood swings, and a growing list of people who want her dead (including the original heroine), Areum is determined to rewrite her tragic ending—even if that means throwing pillows at her expressionless husband, bullying fate into submission, and, for once in her two lives, choosing herself.

Can a modern-day nobody survive the drama of nobility, sidestep death-by-birth, and raise a baby in a world that already wrote her off as the villain?

Reborn as the Pregnant Villainess (And I Was a Virgin!)

He reeked of pine, leather, and a whiff of rain from the mountain path. His cloak was damp at the edges when he walked into their bedchamber. Alexandra sat in front of the fire, looking much too calm. Her hands were placed folded upon her knees.

That was his first sign of trouble.

"Having trouble sleeping?" he asked, removing his gloves.

"No," she said evenly. "I've had a very productive evening, actually."

There was a silence. Not tense. Not cold. But… expectant.

"Did you?" His tone remained unreadable. "Find anything interesting?"

Alexandra stood, crossing the room slowly, and placed the leather-bound book in his hands.

The one with the embossed eye on the cover.

Cassian gazed at it for two slow heartbeats before he spoke, "That's not from the main shelves."

"No," she assented softly. "It was hidden behind the ivy tapestry. In the non-existent hallway. In the walled-off wing where your mother's handwriting remained in the margins."

Cassian didn't waver. But he did set the book down with great care on the nightstand, as if it would burn.

Alexandra crossed her arms. "So. When did you plan on mentioning that your mother had sealed off a whole area of the library because she feared a prophecy? One that was incredibly similar to our child."

"She was a highly superstitious woman."

"Of course she was," Alexandra snapped. "She simply blocked off scores of books behind runes and etched warnings for entertainment."

"I didn't say that she was incorrect."

Cassian faced the fire, leaning against the mantel with one hand. He was pale. Older than he had any right to be. Like the burden he'd been shouldering all by himself had just tilted, ever so slightly.

"She believed in bloodlines. In omens. When I was born during a lunar eclipse, she panicked. She looked at me and shut that wing." A pause. "The prophecy doesn't mention when the Twilight-Blessed would be born. Just that it would be to this bloodline."

"And you think it's… this child?

"I don't know. But the Seer today…" His voice had lowered. "I saw her face, Alexandra. She appeared as if she'd seen death itself."

Alexandra drew nearer, her voice softer now. "But the book indicated it's not a curse. It's a choice. A hinge between endings. That sounds like hope, Cassian."

At the woman who had bargained with fate itself just to live. At the child forming between them, already shaking the threads of prophecy.

And said, with absolute conviction: "If there's a choice, then we'll choose our ending. No one else's."

They stood there for a long time—two reluctant believers, wrapped in firelight and fear and something stronger.

Then Alexandra declared, "Also, I'm giving you a map of the estate. Including all the secret wings. You're bad at keeping things hidden."

Cassian released a low chuckle. "Noted.

“What Did Your Mother Fear?”