Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“How much longer until we reach the Grand Duchy?”

“We’ll arrive shortly. The weather’s cold, so please, come inside the carriage.”

The Grand Duke’s loyal knight repeated the same words with shameless persistence. He was practically the embodiment of a broken record.

In the end, I had no choice but to give up and turn back toward the carriage.

The moment the carriage door closed, I wrapped myself in my robe as if swaddling myself and pulled the hood over my head. Even so, the brutal chill seeping into my body refused to fade.

The northern wind was bitter and cold enough to cut straight to the bone.

“This is seriously insane cold…!”

My teeth chattered on their own.

Curled up tight, legs trembling like aspen leaves, it was only after a good while that I managed to muster the strength to lift my head.

Whoooosh—!

The sound of the wind outside the carriage sounded almost like a threat.

A heavy sigh finally tore its way out of my throat.

“I’m seriously going to lose my mind.”

It had been exactly two weeks since the carriage entered the territory of the Grand Duchy of Monsel.

Which meant it had also been exactly two weeks since I’d been transported to this world.

“I’m not crazy.”

I’m not crazy. I am absolutely not losing my mind.

Out of habit, I curled my toes tightly and tried to force myself to face the reality that had suddenly befallen me.

My name is Veronica Marguerite Luadel.

The fifth child and third daughter of the King of Luadel, and right now, I was on my way to the Grand Duchy of Monsel for a political marriage.

“How is this even possible…”

I swear, I was a law-abiding citizen living on Earth, and just two weeks ago, I was hunched over my monitor, typing away at my keyboard with a haggard face.

I was a normal webnovel author, tearing my hair out over an editor’s feedback like, ‘Isn’t the R-rated tension a bit lacking in this chapter?’

…Until I suddenly opened my eyes in Veronica’s body, that is.

I barely suppressed a groan, blowing a puff of warm air onto my fingertips. But my frozen hands wouldn’t warm up, no matter how hard I tried.

Even sitting inside the carriage, I felt a creeping, icy coldness crawling across my skin.

“Perhaps because it’s a body that died once, it really feels like a corpse.”

It sounded horrible, but it was the truth.

Fifteen days ago, Veronica, attempting to flee in the dead of night, collapsed in the forest and was rescued by knights.

Sadly, her nanny and two maids, who had cared for her since childhood, had already succumbed to hypothermia.

Foolish Veronica must not have known that the northern cold could ‘kill’ someone. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have dashed through the middle of the forest with only a dress and a flimsy cloak.

Cruelly, it seemed Veronica had truly died that day.

And into that ownerless body, my soul had suddenly, abruptly dropped.

Of all the transmigration stories, why did it have to be Veronica?

I couldn’t help but make a tearful face.

I knew Princess Veronica Ruadel’s future clearly. Because just two weeks ago, I had written her story myself.

With my own hands!

In other words, I had transmigrated into the R-rated romance fantasy novel I had written myself!

And not as the protagonist, but as the villainess who utterly ruined the male lead’s life!

“This is driving me crazy, truly.”

What divine jest this was, I’d be eternally grateful if someone could explain the reason.

‘I know what transmigration stories are, okay? But usually, it’s being hit by a truck and reincarnated, or having memories of a past life resurface after an accidental mishap, isn’t it?’

Waking up to find myself the villainess in a novel?

Where was the plot coherence in that?

For fifteen days, I denied and raged, but all that remained was anxiety, headaches, and indigestion from extreme stress.

Eventually, through a mix of despondency and depression, I resigned myself to my current situation.

‘What else can I do but accept it? The only other conclusion is that Veronica went mad.’

I covered my face with both hands.

Veronica was a clichéd villainess, created to emphasize the male lead’s tragic past.

The crucial reason why the Northern Grand Duke, Lionel Monsel, became a man so cynical and distrustful of women.

She wasn’t just any villainess, either.

She was the worst kind: debauched, extravagant, vulgar, and meeting her ruin by enjoying secret rendezvouses with a young knight behind her husband’s back.

‘Why did I write her like that?’

Well, because readers loved it!

A cold Northern Grand Duke, a debauched villainess, betrayal, execution, and a salvation narrative where a saintly heroine heals the male lead’s profound wounds.

It sounded quite plausible, didn’t it?

The problem was that I had become that debauched villainess.

“I’m genuinely going crazy…”

To summarize Veronica’s marriage narrative:

The greedy King Ruadel marries off his own daughter, Veronica, to Grand Duke Monsel.

On the surface, it seemed to be for strengthening the bond between the Royal Family and the Ducal House, but in reality, it was a political marriage made out of fear of the Monsel Ducal House, with its immense military power and mines.

However, for Veronica, who was accustomed to the luxurious life of the capital, the harsh life of the North was nothing but contemptible.

Naturally, their marriage was utterly desolate.

Then, war broke out on the southern border, and according to the contract with the King, Grand Duke Monsel led his knights to the battlefield.

Veronica, completely uninterested in governing the territory, squandered her dowry on a life of debauchery, only for the territory to be invaded by a neighboring lord who had been eyeing an opportunity.

Defeated in the territorial battle, she sold off land at a cheap price to raise reparations, and even the remaining money was wasted on her own pleasures.

Meanwhile, Grand Duke Monsel, returning victorious from the war, witnessed the tragic lives of his people and fell into deep shock.

Enraged, Grand Duke Monsel stormed the ducal castle and discovered Veronica in the Grand Duchess’s bedchamber, having an affair with a young knight.

The result: the guillotine.

Furthermore, it was a horrific ending, as she was stoned to death by enraged villagers.

“Haha, I think I’m screwed.”

I never wanted to say those words, but they just spilled out after transmigrating into the villainess.

I forced down a hollow sigh and rested my fists on my knees.

“I have to find a way to survive, no matter what.”

That much was obvious.

I had to find a way to return to reality, by any means necessary.

If I followed the original plot, I would be executed while trapped in Veronica’s body.

What if my soul died permanently then?

I’d be so aggrieved I wouldn’t be able to close my eyes even in death.

Calm down, Leeso.

If this world truly was the novel I wrote, then there would be plenty of ways to survive.

The rules that immediately came to mind were as follows:

First, do not commit adultery with a young knight behind my husband’s back.

Second, do not squander the territory’s assets.

Third, do not displease Grand Duke Monsel and his people.

Fourth, quietly endure until the original heroine appears.

And most importantly, fifth, find a way to return to reality.

Frankly speaking, if I just don’t commit adultery with a knight, Grand Duke Monsel wouldn’t have a reason to execute his wife, but…

Instead, I might have my assets confiscated or be imprisoned in a tower for life.

What I wanted was to survive in the best possible condition.

At that moment, the carriage slowly decelerated, then lurched to a halt.

Thud.

I heard the crisp movements of knights and the clatter of weapons.

Someone approached the carriage.

This early? I’m not even ready yet.

I froze, unable to move. Even breathing felt difficult.

Just then, the carriage door burst open without a sound.

“Please come out now. His Grace, the Grand Duke, is waiting.”

I stared blankly at the hand extended by Sir Owen, the Grand Duke’s loyal knight.

Owen.

This name, too, was one I had created.

In the original story, he was Lionel’s right-hand man and the Knight Commander who utterly despised Veronica. There was also a setting later that his father was a vassal who died due to Veronica’s tyranny.

Now that I think about it again, I really did something terrible.

Belatedly, I reached out a trembling hand.

Gasp…!

Before I could even lean forward, Sir Owen pulled me out with astonishing strength.

“……!”

The moment I stepped out of the carriage, I felt piercing gazes.

The Grand Ducal castle’s vassals, knights, squires, and servants stood densely packed along the corridors and stairs. They had come out to welcome the Ruadel Princess, who was to become the Grand Duchess.

The whole castle came out to watch.

Their eyes held more vigilance than goodwill. Veronica was, after all, a member of the Royal Family.

At that moment, they all simultaneously bent their knees in a bow.

I tried not to hesitate, carefully pulling the hood, which obstructed my vision, down to my shoulders.

Then, my luxurious black hair, like satin, cascaded down in waves.

“……!”

I heard a collective gasp from somewhere.

This time, it wasn’t difficult to guess the reason.

Veronica was beautiful. Unfairly so.

Snow-white skin, deep black hair, crimson lips, a slender, long neck.

Her eyes, nestled beneath long, lush eyelashes, shone as clear as jewels, and her slightly downcast gaze was both elegant and alluring.

And her figure—how voluptuous and sensuous it was. She had the kind of beauty that would draw men even if she stood still.

A natural talent for becoming a debauched villainess, you could say.

I instinctively clutched my cloak tighter.

Sir Owen led me with precise movements to a specific spot.

There, a tall, imposing man stood cloaked in a mantle.

It was the Northern Grand Duke, Lionel Kahn Monsel.