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The Counterfeit Queen

She was captivating. Milk white curls that danced idly down her back, wide golden eyes that sat perfectly on her face. Ezel Ifan, the gem of the Villarreal Kingdom. The protagonist of the novel I read so many years ago, the savior of this world. Her soft laugh, the thin fingers that elegantly danced across the hairs on his arms. Her every move was ethereal, she was ethereal and the man holding her so protectively close knew that more than anybody else. Adonis Villarreal, the cold-blooded king who turned warm at the mere sight of her. A god among men, from his unnatural physique and strength to his impeccable intelligence. He was a threat to every couple, his looks not helping his case. Bronzed skin, thick black hair accompanied by mint gemstones for eyes. How clear of a fit the two were for one another. Adonis bent his head down next to her ears, whispering a secret that tainted her face scarlet. Her arms brushed over her unnaturally large belly. Seven months pregnant now. How wonderful. The polite chuckles of nobles, the clinking of wine glasses... everything seemed perfect until a blood-curdling scream silenced it all. Ezel's once pristine dress was ruined by something thick and red. Eyes wide with horror, her head turned up to the man she loved, only to be met with crazed and frightened eyes. The room was instantly filled with commotion and movement. A woman gasped in horror, something hit the marble floor. Just like that, the Villareal Kingdom lost their queen and Adonis, his lover and unborn child. Joan was reincarnated into a novel she read when she was a college student as an unknown character, Emoria Leonidas, after committing suicide. The timing of her reincarnation was strange. The villainess, who was her character's sister, was already dead and all the obstacles were erased. The protagonists were expecting their first child and the kingdom was prospering. Everything seemed fine and Emoria decided to live her second life reflecting on her previous one with the riches she has now inherited as the daughter of a duke. That is until the beloved protagonist lost her life to a miscarriage. "...Father, what are you saying?" "Emoria, the kingdom needs a queen and I need a new political standing in the court after your sister (The Villainess) was killed. Think of all the riches and power we can have?!" Just like that, I was sent as a sacrifice for my father and my idle life ended. Thrown to the wolves, how can I survive in a story that was meant for another woman? How can I survive when the mere sight of me makes my husband tremble with disgust? In my first life and this one, why do the gods want me to suffer?

Ghostorie · Historia
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8 Chs

Chapter Seven - Iron Mines

WARNING: This story contains material that might be triggering to some viewers! Adult content! Proceed with caution!

Chapter Seven - Iron Mines

Thin nails scratched against her scalp, flicking against the white flesh as dandruff fell over her lashes. When had she last bathed again? Did she brush her hair? Had she made her bed? What... rather... when was her last meal?

Her fingertips rubbed the dandruff away from the thick hairs, her dull gaze departing from the book in front of her as something bright from the corner of her eyes made her squint. The fields outside seemed to have been covered with white frosting, the branches bare of any garments.

"Winter... already?"

It had been two months since the faithful meeting with her father and she had not seen another pair of human eyes since. Her weeks of isolation where spent studying everything she could about Selsia, the world she had tripped her way into, her ancestry as a Vaughan, the kingdom of Villareal, etc.

Although her encounters with people depressed her, with the exception of Osiris, she refused to give up her life because of a few cruel people who needed emotional therapy.

Emoria pressed her tongue on her upper lip, the salty taste making her sigh as she pushed the book away from her.

The Vaughans were of humble noble lineage, their first descendant being a third cousin to the third queen of Villareal. Villareal was a nation that was named after the ancient tribes joined forces somewhere in year 1050 in a planet called Selsia.

The family had limited wealth but a vast amount of land. Their rise to fame began when pink diamonds and iron were found in one of their properties on the outskirts of a small town by the local kids.

The head of the family at the time was overcome with greed, he exploited the town and used their poverty as a means to force them into cheap labor by working in his mines. Children as young as six years old developed cancer and lung diseases that impaired them for life.

The mines were prone to collapsing and more limbs were crushed than imaginable. Royalty turned a blind eye- they enjoyed the quality of the diamonds too much to boycott or apprehend the Vaughans. Besides, who cared about a few impaired peasant kids?

Supply soon declined but the family was quite tactful with their spending. They bought factories of sugar, silk, and porcelain at the beginning of their ascension. They drove small family business' into a corner until they gave up and sold ownership rights over their shops and inventions.

The family had more wealth than they could comprehend, aristocrats and entrepreneurs with a monopoly over three essential goods.

Then came the infamous birth of Arwan Vaughan in year 1407. Arwan was tutored by the empire's most intelligent men since he took his first few steps as a two year old. A rigorous education in history, finances, economy, engineering, the sciences, social psychology, and military tactics made him one of the most eligible bachelors of the empire.

He rightfully married a woman named Colette Aphelion, a stunning beauty from a prominent family who owned a large bank. Comparable to the Medici's but of Selsia.

He doubled the Vaughan's wealth when he allied with the present king, Allerick Villareal, as his general. His brutal schemes and plots led the empire to victory against the enemy nation, Demrion.

After killing the king of Demrion, Arwan burned his wife and eight children alive in their bedroom. Even though they had technically won, he did not want any rebels to have any wandering ideas about a lost prince or princess.

That was when all the history books stopped. Emoria flipped the book over and pressed her bony thighs together, her blank eyes examining her nails. They had surprisingly grown back.

"Mines... monopolies, political marriages, war crimes. How moral it is to hold the Vaughan name."

She pitifully grinned and drew her index finger against her forehead. When had she last slept? She was not doing this body justice.

This world did not seem to have any magic, no dragons nor fairies. The books about topics like that were all under the fiction and children's genre. No mention of anything remotely similar was in any of the history documents or scrolls.

The dresses, the fashions and goods- they were all materially 1800s Europe. The technology was almost nonexistent, everything was mechanically powered by humans.

Emoria's breath slowed as her eyes fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. Her head tipped over against her shoulder as she let sleep overcome her.

...

"You god damn whore."

Emoria faced a familiar man with red eyes. His belly was full and his shirt was dirtied with potato chip crumps and wet stains. Drool moisturized his bristled beard and a white can was glued to his right hand.

"Were you out with that brat again? His dad thinks he's all that for working at a big company. Did you let him sleep with you? I wouldn't be surprised, you're just like your mom."

Emoria felt a lump in her throat as she turned to where his eyes were pointed at, a petite brunette girl with shabby clothes. She was shaking with anger, her eyes boiling with a deep hatred as the man began cursing and throwing cans at her.

She shouted back at him, insulting him, wishing he was dead. Her screams seemed stuck in the walls of this filthy living room. The words and emotional abuse infected every corner and crevice, like ants at a park, like a plague. The middle aged man sat up and walked towards her, his voice seething with hatred.

"No..."

Emoria softly whispered and ran after him, trying to block him with her body but he walked right through her. She didn't want to see what happened next, to hear it. She knew... she knew.

"No please don't hit her, please don't touch her, please please don't hurt her. You're her father so please don't touch her-."

The punches, the gasps, the blood, it sickened her. Emoria watched as her previous body fell against the wall, her brown eyes drowning with tears as she dug her nails into her skin.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Whatever I do- I can't do anything right. Wherever I go, whenever I try to do good it ends up this way. I wish I could protect you, I wish I could have protected myself..."

She fell over the immobile body, her white arms snaking around the tanner girl as she screamed. Her lungs were burning.

"You did not do anything wrong, you never did. You don't have to forgive them, you don't have to hate them anymore. I know its tiring, this routine. One day they're kind to you, they apologize for touching you and promise not to drink anymore. They buy you a stupid teddy bear and you believe them, you can't help but believe them- what else did you have but hope?"

Emoria petted her previous body kindly. She wanted to hug her younger self and take her away from everything. To a warm cozy home where she could celebrate thanksgiving and Christmas with kind parents and maybe siblings too. Where she could open presents and not have to trick herself into forgiving them.

"Oh god... it hurts so much to... You think to yourself- how can I let myself be angry or hate them when they are trying to change? They feel bad for what they did and I don't want to be ungrateful! So you naively forgive them, again and again and again until you're eighteen years old and the bruises on your soul are more damaged then a country at war. You don't have to fight yourself anymore... You don't have to look for love anymore..."

"Let's live better this time... please, let's live better this time..."

...

She wiped the tears with her sleeves and cleared her throat before beginning to tidy up the books on the desk. The stacks were becoming taller than her and she sometimes had to climb over chairs and make stepping stools to reach them.

Makeshift solutions were still solutions.

Emoria tied her oily hair up as best as she could and knocked on the glum door.

"Who is it?"

She thought for a second before replying nonchalantly, as if she was requesting water at a restaurant.

"Emoria, father."

The door creaked open and a man thrice her size beckoned her in with his finger. The office was the same as it was the moment she had awakened there with the exception of the placement of the individuals and the papers that now drowned his desk.

"I do not want to hear an apology, it'll just ruin my mood."

Emoria wanted to burst into a fit of laughter at his arrogance. Apologize? She'd rather stick the brass box of thumb tacks that were near his quill into her mouth then apologize to him.

"No father, I came here to make a deal with you. I wish you would hear me out."

His eyes moved away from the paper he was reading to meet hers, his mocking expression turning serious.

Did she still have time to run away?

"A deal? What kind of deal, child?"

"I know that Elian is a better choice to becoming the heiress of our estate than I am. But there is nothing that even you can do about challenging birthright, that would gravelly insult the noble families."

Her mouth was dry and she wished she could have a glass of water. She had not spoken this much in a while and every word felt like a battle to squeeze out.

"Go on."

"I will make a deal with you. Once I turn twenty, I will sign away my inheritance to the next heir of this family and disappear forever."

Arwan's darkened eyes seemed to have sparkled as he threw the document he was holding onto the desk. He pressed his chin onto his knuckles and a smile made his face look crooked and ugly.

"What are the conditions to this deal of yours?"

Hah. He had not even bothered denying anything. What a lovely father.

"Until then, treat me like a true Vaughan heiress. Lend me all the wealth, power, and benefits that I should have. Fire the head maid and all of the servants in my quarters. Send me the best tutors in Villareal..."

She hesitated. Should she ask? Well, what had she to lose now? Her father looked as if he was enthralled by her contract.

"On the day of my twentieth birthday, give me the rights to all of your iron mines. Then, I will disappear forever."

Why twenty? It was quite the strategic plan.

In the original novel, Adonis marries Ezel when she turns eighteen. Elain had passed away six months before that and funerals usually last three months in Selsia. She would disappear right after the protagonists' find their happily ever after and the villainess' death. Her father would have no choice but to beg her to take the Vaughan name or else their legacy would perish.

Emoria would refuse and escape with the iron mines under her name and leave the Vaughans to disappear for good as all tyrants deserved. Their wealth and power was built on the blood and bones of children, they did not have the right to anything.

"Deal, Emoria."

Author's Note:

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