Chapter 1

Quinn

It felt strange to be up here, sitting on the back of a monstrous white wolf on the cliff's edge while gazing down at the tens of thousands of soldiers down below.

Norsewood's warriors were joined by the Snow, Wood, and Valley Elves, Mountain Dwarves, and One-Horn Demons. Far across the horizon on the opposite side was the enemy invading our land, the soldiers who were once my husband's ally from Athol, a country my husband once loved and served.

It was hard to imagine that I'd be here, aiding my beloved husband, the man known as the infamous, cold-blooded warrior Lord Aldric Templeton, Earl of Norsewood, now the Ruler of Blackfield. Because really, not long ago, I was back on Earth, very much alive and kicking and going about my day, looking forward to the next phase in my life, looking forward to starting a new job as a research scientist working in one of the biggest medical research companies in the world. But apparently, life had the knack at giving you an unexpected twist when you least expected it.

Aldric, beside me and sitting on another monstrous white wolf, shouted, "Hellfire!"

Immediately, a gust of wind swirled, and materializing out of thin air was a behemoth of a dragon, hovering above the air.

I could never get used to seeing that legendary monster, the one that could destroy a city with a simple breath of his fire, the one that nearly killed Aldric and his men during our dungeon conquering episode, the one that kept toddling around after me in his small, too-cute-for-words form and begging me for sweet Chinese buns.

Who could have believed that a mighty dragon was addicted to sweet Chinese buns? Or anything that was a bun and had sweet fillings inside it? Ridiculous, really.

On a side note, who could have believed that my capture was worth a king's ransom? Because that was exactly what those bastards were here for, kidnapping me, and of course, seizing the land Aldric and I and our people had worked so hard on cultivating.

Apparently, in their eyes, I was a saint, whatever that was, and I was worth destroying a newly built nation for.

Indeed, this was the story of my life. Or rather, my second life as the infamous earl's legendary bride.

So, how did I even get here? Let's go back to when it all started when I was done in by Mr. Truck saving a boy's life, when I opened my eyes and found myself in this world that was full of magic, monsters, and mayhem.

* * *

When I woke up, I sensed everything was wrong—the sight of the ceiling, made of sticks and straws and looking ready to collapse on top of me; the bed I was sleeping in, which was hard; the blanket that was covering me, which was coarse; and my body, which was sore all over like I had been beaten to an inch of death's door.

I stirred and shifted, and instantly, pain echoed through my body like a raging inferno, and I wanted to scream. What came out of my mouth was an agony of groaning instead, followed by huffing like I couldn't breathe properly. I felt like someone had smashed my ribs in.

What?

I relaxed back and tried to recollect what in heaven had happened to me because I was sure something had happened.

I racked my brain, thinking back, hard.

Graduation!

Yes! It was my graduation day. I had put on the regalia and talked to Mom and Dad, or what was a portrait of them anyway, informing them that I was graduating with a master's degree in medical health science and that I'd be starting a new job as a scientist in one of the biggest research companies in America, in the world, within a week. I told them I was looking forward to the next phase in my life and that I was happy and that they needn't worry about me anymore from up there.

"I know you're proud of me," I had said, gazing at the photo of the loving couple who had raised me until I had turned sixteen when they had passed away from a freak accident. They had been the only people I had in my life, and I had loved them dearly.

I racked my brain some more, trying to figure out what happened next. Ah, that was right. In full regalia, I had taken the bus, which was running late. Once I had gotten off, I had to sprint down the block to get to campus and then—

A full-on pounding came hammering in my head, and I felt breathless and dizzy.

I took in a deep breath and then… everything came flashing back—me panicking, the boy standing there in the middle of the road and staring blindly at the oncoming truck, the mother screaming, me racing across the street toward the boy, and then the hit.

Oh…

I see. So that was what had happened. An accident. I wondered if that ran in the family. First, it was my parents, and now me being hit by a truck.

I let it sink in for a few moments, glad I was alive. I had cheated death, unlike my parents. I hoped that boy was safe and fine, too. I was certain he was safe since I had made sure I had pushed him out of the way before the truck could reach him.

I shifted my gaze to stare up at the ceiling again. One thing was for certain, that ready-to-collapse ceiling did not belong to a hospital, let alone a twenty-first-century building. The way it was positioned and joined was too haphazard. It wouldn't even pass the inspection phase during its building period, even for a barn or a hut.

I turned my head and scanned the room, my eyes wide. Slowly, something I felt could only be surprise, shock, and dread began to descend.

What the heck?

Wattle and daub constructed walls. Open fireplace. Wooden furniture. Dirt floor.

Surely, I was dreaming, right? Because this looked nothing like a patient's room in a hospital. In fact, it looked more like the interior of a peasant's house in the medieval period.

The door opened, and I watched a woman, dressed in what appeared to be peasant's medieval-style clothing, walking in.

The moment she saw me gazing at her, she looked stunned. Then she rushed over, calling out, "Quinn! Oh, Quinn!" She came to sit on the side of the bed and cupped my face with hard, calloused hands, tears brewing in her eyes.

Who was this woman? Why did she look so worried about me?

That intense headache came again, and I gritted my teeth. Suddenly, memories came flashing into my mind's eye, and as I worked to process it all, I widened my eyes in shocked surprise.

I was Quinn Fairchild. Not the twenty-five-year-old Quinn Chen living in America in the twenty-first century who went to her graduation ceremony and got hit by a truck, but an eighteen-year-old Quinn Fairchild, daughter of Elizabeth Fairchild, living in the kingdom of Athol in a world called Eseron.

What the heck?

"Quinn?" The woman's soft, gentle voice called out to me. "How are you feeling, daughter? How is the pain?"

I continued to stare at her. Damn, but she was a beautiful woman with pale-blond hair and green eyes. There were some lines on her face, indicating aging, but she was still beautiful nonetheless, and she was supposedly my mother. More specifically, Quinn Fairchild's, this body's, mother.

I licked my dry lips and said, very hoarsely, "Mother?"

She smiled, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, Quinn. I was losing hope that you'd ever wake again. I…" She leaned in and kissed me on the forehead. "I'm so sorry it happened again, my dear. I'm so sorry."

Happened? Yes, indeed, what the heck had happened to me? How did I, Quinn Chen, a young woman who was about to start her brand-new life working in one of the biggest medical research companies in the world, end up here?

Was this supposed to be a joke? Or was I hallucinating? Dreaming? I mean I had been in an accident, after all.

But why did everything seem and feel so real? Surely, the feeling of pain couldn't be fake, which was currently raging throughout my body.

The woman, Elizabeth, moved back and said, "You must be thirsty and hungry, my dear. I'll prepare something for you."

I watched her fluffing about, looking relieved as tears continued to pour out of her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. While she was preparing what I could only ascertain was tea, I rack my brain once again as to how it was possible that I came to be here. Instantly, memories of both Quinn Fairchild's and my own came flooding in again.

I flicked my gaze to Elizabeth and involuntarily said, "Mother."

Damn! It was the Quinn Fairchild part of this body that was calling out to her, the part I couldn't seem to control.

Elizabeth turned and smiled at me. She was still brewing tears, apparently.

"Did you want something?" She came over as she wiped tears from her face and, somehow and with a lot of pain on my part, she managed to sit me up and rest me back against the head of the bed. Then she brought around a cup of tea and began to aid me in drinking it.

It was a little bitter, though the temperature was a perfect-warm. I began to half sip, half lick like a kitten as if my life depended on it. I was more dehydrated than I realized. I managed to finish the contents, and once I was done, Elizabeth praised me for doing such a good job, like I was a toddler, and then returned to preparing what could only be soup.

It tasted bland, and though eating did not please me one bit, I emptied the wooden bowl regardless because my stomach needed it. My health needed it.

Elizabeth laid me down on the hard, uncomfortable bed again, saying, "I added some herbal medicine in the tea, so it'll help ease the pain and make you sleep better."

I see. The pain did cease, but very little. Exhausted again already, I closed my eyes and fell into a slumber instantly.