He had just finished it.
His fingers trembled as they tapped the screen of his phone, a sick knot twisting in his stomach. The final chapter of When the Stars Fell from the Sky—a manhua his friend swore was life-changing—was over. He'd only picked it up for fun, despite not being a fan of "sappy romance nonsense," but this one had promised something different.
And it delivered.
No happy ending. No sunshine and rainbows. Just pure emotional devastation.
Cassian Lucis Von Lleigh, the noble Crown Prince, was dead. Alyss Lixin Carilleo, the quiet noble girl with a tragic smile, had been framed and executed.And Leonhardt Von Lleigh—the snake in velvet, the smug villain who ruined everything—stood smiling at the end, with that manipulative witch Cassiophea clinging to his arm like a designer handbag.
"Bastard," he muttered, flinging his phone facedown on the bed. "I hope your kingdom freezes."
His eyes were still burned with the image of that final panel. Leonhardt, smirking at the readers like he knew exactly what he'd done. Like he could see him. Like—
He shivered.
Nope. Nope. Hallucinating. He was just tired.
With a groan, he collapsed face-first into his pillow and yanked the blanket over his head. He would not admit that he cried. Definitely not. (Not a single tear. That was just... sweat. Emotional sweat.)
He hated him.
He hated how he manipulated everyone with that fake baby-faced smile. He hated that people forgave him just because he was pretty.
He hated—
No. No more thoughts of that maniacal, silk-wearing, princely demon.
He closed his eyes.
---
He awoke not to his familiar rumpled sheets, but to velvet.
His pillow felt... luxurious. His blanket was heavier than usual, and faintly scented like roses—and money. The ceiling sparkled with a golden chandelier. The walls were tall, elegant, rich.
A single, horrified thought filled his mind:
This wasn't his room.
Panic bloomed in his chest like an allergic reaction to luxury. He bolted upright.
"W-What the hell—?!"
Right on cue, the massive velvet curtains whooshed open like they'd been waiting for a dramatic moment.
In marched a squadron of maids and butlers. Perfect posture. Perfect hair. Matching uniforms. Like they'd been summoned from a cosplay café, but way too expensive-looking.
The head maid stepped forward and gave a graceful bow.
"My lady," she said smoothly, her tone oddly respectful. "The Archduke has summoned you to the Grand Hall."
He blinked.
Lady?
"Pardon...?" he croaked, his voice cracking under the weight of confusion.
"For the discussion of your engagement, of course," the maid continued with a faint, professional smile. "You are to be wed to Prince Leonhardt Von Lleigh of Lunveil."
His blood turned to ice.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
Not him.
---
Elsewhere, in a hall so fancy it looked like a jewelry store had exploded into architecture, two figures sat across a gleaming obsidian table.
One was the Archduke of Carilleo—stern, formal, already tapping his quill against a hefty contract.
The other... was a boy.
Barely seven years old. Messy blond hair. Dressed in an outfit that cost more than his family's entire apartment. His little velvet-clad legs swung beneath the chair, too short to reach the floor, but he sat with all the forced seriousness of a child playing diplomat.
Leonhardt Von Lleigh was beaming with self-importance.
"I promise I'll be good to her, sir," he said, trying his best to sound like a grown-up. "I'll write her letters, and learn tea manners, and... and even give her part of my ice garden!"
The Archduke chuckled, amused by the boy's noble enthusiasm.
"Very commendable, young prince. This engagement shall bring great fortune to both Lunveil and Eastern Carilleo."
Leonhardt nodded with determination, his bright blue eyes full of innocent ambition.
He hadn't met Cassiophea yet.
He hadn't seen her golden curls or heard her laugh or felt the sharp twist of fate in his chest.
Right now, Leonhardt was just a kid.
Excited.
Eager.
Innocent.
He just wanted to meet his fiancée.
If only he knew... his fiancée was screaming into a pillow in the bedroom, trying not to throw up.
[[ 16th May, Year 25]]