Marked by the Ruthless Princess

Early the next morning, Reginald Riley prepared carriage and horses outside the palace gates. Lina Riley stood behind her elder sister, Sophia Riley, her head bowed and her expression fatigued. She had dreamt unsettling dreams the previous night, the kind that shattered rest. Though her body had grown stronger thanks to secret martial practice, lingering illness and a sleepless night left her looking worn and pale.

The palace gates loomed imposingly, and Lina narrowed her eyes. Behind those grand doors waited her enemy. She clenched her fists, her body trembling—was it excitement, fury, or some strange mixture of both? It was certainly not love.

"Are you frightened?" A gentle, springlike voice pulled her back to the present. There was no poisoned wine or raging fire now, only her elder sister's lovely face, partly hidden by a hood. Cold wind teased Sophia's pale cheeks, adding an unnatural flush. In Lina's mind flashed an image of Sophia's tragic end from her past life: red blood staining a frozen blade, her sister too far away to save. She remembered watching Sophia collapse, blood soaking her gown, her lips moving silently as if forming words Lina could not hear, while the icy wind stole away all sense and reason.

Sophia, seeing her younger sister's frail figure, tugged Lina's hand to comfort her. "Don't be afraid. Stay close to me."

But Lina only stared, as though peering through Sophia at something else unseen. Sophia assumed this timid sibling had simply been startled by the grand scene and joked softly, "Am I really so lovely to look at?"

Lina shook her head, countless emotions rushing through her. At last, she managed, "Elder Sister is indeed beautiful."

Sophia had heard such compliments before and never cared about her looks. Yet for some reason, praise from this younger sister warmed her heart. She reached out to lift Lina's head, only then realizing that Lina was taller than she remembered. Looking closely, Sophia took in her sister's features—arched brows, almond-shaped eyes, and a hint of illness in her complexion. When Lina lowered her gaze, it had seemed unremarkable, but now, meeting Sophia's eyes straight on, Lina's gaze held a quiet dignity that brooked no disrespect.

If memory served, Lina was already eighteen, old enough to be married. But custom decreed that the elder sister should marry first before the younger. Sophia felt a pang of guilt. "Sister, have you someone you favor? If so, I can speak to Father. You mustn't be delayed because of me."

The question came abruptly. Lina, still wary of revealing too much too soon, caught a glimpse of Reginald Riley watching them from the corner of her eye. Who knew if others shared her gift of rebirth? She must not stand out too early, not until she was ready. Quickly, she lowered her head with a show of apprehension. "I cannot marry before Elder Sister."

Reginald Riley turned away, apparently satisfied. Sophia's guilt deepened. She tried a different tack. "Then what sort of Earthbound partner would you prefer? Just a casual question."

Her voice carried, drawing many curious glances. Lina inwardly sighed, suspecting her sister might also have returned with knowledge of the past. Yet in their previous life, Sophia had died before Lina made any name for herself, so there was no reason for Sophia to seek her favor now. Lina's doubts grew.

Still, she played the role of a shy girl. "I'd like someone gentle… like a small rabbit."

Earthbound individuals of such a gentle disposition were quite common in the Everard Empire. Sophia smiled, amused. To her, Lina herself resembled a timid little rabbit. Sophia once raised two rabbits in a private enclosure. One had been weak from the start; the other was even worse off, injured and missing an eye. Yet that crippled rabbit kept struggling to live, inspiring Sophia whenever she felt hopeless.

Before Sophia could say more, a sharp gust of wind made her cough again. Her maid rushed forward, alarmed. Sophia waved her off, forcing a smile at Lina. "It's nothing, just an old ailment."

Lina caught a glimpse of blood at Sophia's lips, and her eyes darkened. Reginald had entered the palace today hoping the Crown Princess would help find a physician to treat Sophia. Unfortunately, in the previous life, Lucille Everard never showed up. The matter was dropped, leaving Reginald anxious and confused, though nothing came of it before war broke out.

This time, Lina wondered if she could save Sophia's life. Not out of sisterly love, but admiration for Sophia's character. Yet just the thought of appealing to Lucille Everard—mad, mercurial, and dangerous—made Lina's heart clench. Best to forget that idea and seek another way.

She cast aside unrealistic hopes. As morning sunlight broke over the crimson palace doors, they swung open with a heavy groan. Silver-armored guards reflected cold light, and beyond them stretched a corridor like the gullet of some great beast, ready to swallow anyone who ventured within.

An elderly court attendant, Samuel Whitaker, wearing deep green robes, greeted Reginald Riley with a polite smile. His eyes, though clouded, occasionally gleamed with cunning. "Yesterday, when I visited your estate, I didn't notice your second daughter possessed such bearing," he said pleasantly.

Lina immediately lowered her head. In the previous life, Samuel had barely acknowledged her presence, let alone praised her. Reginald glanced back at his daughters. Sophia stood protectively close to Lina, eyes gleaming as she regarded her sister. Though he felt a touch of displeasure at this newfound closeness, Reginald cared more about his children's happiness than social conventions. He merely replied, "You flatter her, good sir."

Samuel Whitaker, who had accepted Reginald's gifts, offered a flurry of advice on palace etiquette. The current emperor, Emilia Everard, was a mere puppet, and so not much ceremony was needed. The Crown Princess, however, was another matter.

Adopting a grave tone, Samuel warned, "The Emperor is easygoing. No need for excessive formality. But before the Crown Princess, be cautious. Anger her, and you could lose your head ten times over."

Knowing he must curry favor, Reginald bowed lower. "I understand. Pray guide us."

He slipped a purse of gold into Samuel's hand. The old eunuch weighed it and smiled broadly, then continued in a serious voice: "Do not stare directly at the Crown Princess, nor stand too close. Don't speak too loudly; it vexes her. Don't be too quiet; if she can't hear, she'll also be annoyed. Bow your head. She dislikes anyone taller than herself. Never propose requests unless she speaks first. She abhors wine, dancing, and flute music. She'll not tolerate any kind of festive display. Don't laugh too loudly, and don't weep either."

Lina sighed inwardly. She had heard all this in her previous life, and it was no easier to stomach now. Thankfully, the Crown Princess hadn't appeared last time. Lina prayed for the same outcome now. She had no desire to guess what expression might please that terrifying woman.

After a long walk, they finally reached their destination. Lina stood before a grand hall—"Tranquility Hall" spelled out on the plaque overhead. She lowered her gaze, noting the polished floor tiles beneath her feet. Soon, Samuel Whitaker emerged from within, and Lina immediately bowed her head again.

"His Majesty bids you enter."

Following her father and sister inside, Lina knelt to pay respects to the Emperor, then was seated at the farthest spot from the throne. A seat close beneath the Emperor's position remained conspicuously empty.

The young Emperor's voice was soft but solemn: "This banquet was arranged by my royal sister, yet she departed on urgent business. Treat this as my commendation to you, General."

Reginald suppressed his disappointment. "Your Majesty is generous. Defending the borders is my duty."

"No need for stiffness. Please, enjoy yourselves."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Lina needed no words here. She sipped from her cup, recalling that last time the drink was plain water. It was the same now, nothing had changed.

In the previous life, partway through the meal, Lina had left to use the restroom and encountered Victoria Ashwood skulking about, wounded. Worrying over her injury, Lina had followed, eventually stumbling upon a scene where palace maids beat Victoria mercilessly in a cold, deserted courtyard. A cunning trap, set to ensnare her.

This time, Lina knew the script. She would still follow, but not out of kindness. She wanted to witness Victoria's humiliation firsthand.

After her third cup of water, Lina feigned discomfort. She informed a palace maid that she needed to step out, and was led away.

"I'll wait here, Miss Lina," said the maid who guided her. "If you need anything, just call."

Lina nodded timidly. Another maid approached, and as the two servants spoke, a furtive figure crept past.

The girl looked about sixteen, her hair messily tied with a strip of cloth. Gaunt cheeks and overly bright eyes made her resemble a cornered rat. This was Victoria Ashwood. Though physically appealing under better circumstances, Lina's loathing tinted her perception.

Victoria caught Lina's gaze, delight stirring in her heart. Last time, having learned that General Riley would enter the palace with two Heavenblessed daughters, Victoria had planned carefully. She, an Earthbound princess trapped in the cold palace, knew that capturing either daughter's sympathy might secure her freedom. She might still risk death, but staying in the cold palace meant slow destruction anyway. This second chance granted by fate meant she knew Lina would take the bait, as before, eventually helping Victoria ascend from a discarded wretch to the pinnacle of power.

But Victoria did not realize that this time, she was the prey.

Lina gave a small, chilling smile, eyes glittering with murderous intent. How simple it would be to kill her right here. But no—this was the imperial palace, too dangerous to act rashly.

Suppressing that deadly notion, Lina followed Victoria, just like before. Yet a nagging unease gnawed at her. It felt as though something would deviate from the script she remembered so clearly, something she could not control.