webnovel

Rise of the Unfavored Princess

I had thought that my life couldn't get worse when I walked in on my fiancé cheating on me with my best friend. But after a series of unfortunate events, I opened my eyes in a world that I had only read about in a webnovel, the Erudian Empire, ruled under the domineering, bloody reign of Emperor Helio. The worst part? I'm not even the main character! Reborn as Winter Royberg de la Erudian, I am the pitiful side character who is discovered to be a royal bastard princess due to a certain physical trait only the imperial bloodline possesses. But I know the end of Winter's story and the unwanted royal punching bag is framed as a witch and killed at age 16 on the guillotine due to the scheming of the cruel empress. An aloof, murder happy father? Check. Psycho half-sister? Check. Meddlesome author who wants me to follow the script? Double check! I don't want to die an early death again, so I'm determined not to ever be discovered as a royal again. But before I know it, I'm trapped in a palace of blood and opulence playing tricky games of power, games I have no clue how to win. How will I survive to adulthood in the imperial palace and get my happily ever after? And am I really the only person who fell into this world? *UPDATES 1-2 TIMES A WEEK* *1500 TO 3300 WORDS PER CHAPTER*

bunnyreadsabook · Fantaisie
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218 Chs

Ch. 92: Sinking Ship

If the Erudian Empire were a ship, albeit a rather large and impressive warship, it would have sprung a leak in its hull at the moment.

The boiling rage within my father does not erupt, but the chained prisoner on the ground before us begins to choke and hack up clots of black blood until Harold drags him further back near where the generals and commanders stand.

"Save him!" yells, not my father but the Mad Dog. Sir Wolfgang puts pressure on the bleeding wound with his hand and turns to look at me.

And it's not just him, everyone turns to stare, some eyes begging, some curious, some wishing to see a miracle for themselves. And they do, in a way.

Right as I stand from my chair, I see my father's arm extend towards me from the periphery. It moves faster than a whip, his hand before my face before I can so much as flinch. Clenched between his fingers is a blade as slender as a piece of paper.