I continue reading and studying the Seria Empire's history, flipping through the ornate pages of the ancient book resting on my lap. There is always a chance that the novel did not reveal everything—loopholes the author left unsaid or unexplored. And in this new life, ignorance can cost me more than just peace—it could cost me my head. Literally.
The garden pavilion is quiet this afternoon. Sunlight filters softly through the lattice, dancing on the marble floor. Across from me sits Lyle, ever the silent shadow. His eyes scan the surroundings, alert and thoughtful, while I bury myself in dusty pages.
In the Seria Empire, power does not lie with the Imperial Family.
It lies with the Church.
The Crown might wear the title, but the scepter belongs to the divine. The Imperial Family exists merely to support the Church—funding its temples, hosting its ceremonies, and bending to its divine decrees. In return, the Church validates the Empire's rule, pacifying both nobles and commoners by proclaiming that the Emperor's blood is touched by the heavens.
It was no wonder then that Princess Laura Iris—the girl with barely a thread of divinity—spends so much time with the High Priest. She is building a reputation, acting the devout student, cloaking her ambition behind prayers and study sessions. Manipulative, but smart. In a world like this, even false piety can open real doors.
Here, Divinity is not metaphorical—it is real, and it manifests in people like a blessing... or a curse.
According to the records, divinity splits into two opposing forces: Divinity and Dark Divinity. The blessed few—those born with pure divine energy—are either members of the Imperial Bloodline or chosen vessels like the High Priest. These people are rare, gifted, and feared. Some even awaken Divine Magic—magic intertwined with sacred light. They are known as Paladins.
In the Empire's long history, only two Paladins have ever been recorded. Just two. That's how rare the gift is.
Meanwhile, there are those unfortunate enough to be born with Dark Divinity. The Church claims to "purify" them, but history shows otherwise. No known case of successful purification exists. Rather than executing them outright—at least publicly—they are redirected into studying Healing Magic, molded into Clerics. Not quite divine, not quite damned.
Clerics are often referred to as Fighting Priests, deployed in wars and border conflicts to support troops, repel necromancy, or control the undead. They are both holy and terrifying.
So much politics disguised as holiness.
I flip another page and pause. The book details the backgrounds of the current royal children. Laura's mother, the Queen Consort, was born a commoner. Her low birth weakened Laura's divine potential, making her a political liability. In contrast, Madeline's mother—the Empress—was born a noble, the daughter of the powerful Archduke of House Luxemburg, which bolstered Madeline's divinity. A divine bloodline doubled with aristocratic power.
But in the later chapters... things changed.
The book mentioned that Madeline's divinity began to wane, weakening her body and leaving her bedridden. The cause? Her refusal to attend Church. Apparently, for divine users to maintain their strength, they must regularly visit the Church and offer devout prayers to The God. A system that conveniently gives the Church full control over divine power.
Note to self: missing Sunday service might actually kill me here.
Unfair. But then again, it is not like I volunteered to be reincarnated into this twisted monarchy. Even if I give The God the middle finger, I am not suicidal enough to repeat the original Madeline's tragic ending.
I still have one goal: to live—and to enjoy doing so.
The first major event in the book starts with Laura's wedding to the Grand Duke. It was the catalyst for the bloodbath that follows. My execution. The Emperor's death. Laura's rise. The twisted finale. I need to derail the entire plot before that wedding takes place.
When, exactly, does that happen again?
Should I pay a visit to the Grand Duchy of Dewei? Maybe sway the Grand Duke before he gets roped into the wedding?
Think, Adeline. Think.
Why did the marriage between Laura and the Grand Duke even happen?
I shut my eyes, reaching into the depths of my memory, dragging out the novel's events one by one. Ah. Yes.
Two weeks before the wedding, Madeline was executed for attempted murder. The accusation? Poisoning Laura's tea. The princess barely survived and used the incident to turn the court against Madeline. Two days later, the Emperor was found dead—hanged in his own chamber.
The official story? A suicide born from guilt. But the truth?
A carefully orchestrated assassination. A perfect coup. Laura and her mother—two women with no divine power—somehow toppled the most powerful bloodline in the Empire.
They did not do it alone.
Someone helped them.
That shadowy hand was never revealed in the novel. But I will find them. And I will make sure they burn before they touch me.
Despite all of it, the wedding proceeded. Laura was crowned Empress and Grand Duchess, while her mother stayed quietly in the background. No ambition for the throne. Just power from the shadows.
And what about Lyle?
The book abandoned him after Madeline's death. Nothing. No mention. No closure.
Before her execution, he tried to help her escape. He failed. She gave up.
Some fans speculate Lyle loved her. Others believe he went on a revenge spree. No official ending was given.
Now, sitting across from me in this strange new life, Lyle is very much alive—and still loyal.
And now, a spark of hope.
I suddenly remember something—Laura's Coming-of-Age Ceremony.
"When is Laura's coming-of-age?" I ask.
Lyle looks up, blinking slowly. "In the fall."
So that gives me three months. Three months to survive, plot, and sabotage a wedding.
I lean back. "Do you know anyone who can help us bring those bastards down?"
He does not ask who I mean. He knows. He closes his eyes, hand resting on his chin in thought.
The way the light hits his silver hair and those deep blue eyes—it was like staring at a storm-swept sky. Handsome. Ethereal. No wonder the author was obsessed with him. Even now, he was better written than the male lead.
After a moment, he answers, "The High Priest is a possibility. The commoners, maybe. But within the noble houses... I cannot think of anyone willing to go against them."
I frown. There must be someone.
I flip open my record book—a list of every noble house in the Empire. A symbol catches my eye.
House Luxemburg.
Madeline's maternal family. One of the few houses even the Emperor fears. They never appeared in the novel, but surely they would not abandon their only granddaughter... right?
And if they do, well... I will just have to make them regret it.
"I think it is time I paid my grandfather a visit."
Lyle straightens. "They will be very glad, Your Highness."
Now all that is left is to convince my father to approve the trip.
I walk toward the Main Palace, past nobles and visiting dignitaries. They bow slightly, whispering behind my back. Their half-hearted greetings does not faze me. Neither do their insults. I shrug them off like dust.
But there is something else beneath their stares.
Loneliness.
It clings to me like an echo—something that even the real Madeline never managed to shed. And when I first woke up in this world, that heaviness was the first thing I felt.
The same weight I carried when my sister was alive.
I thought my fate was bound to hers. That if she lived, I would never be free. I researched for weeks, figuring out how someone could die naturally by tampering with a hospital IV. I asked questions. I waited.
And when the flat line sounded on her heart monitor... I felt it.
Relief.
A wind. A warm light. Like stepping into the sun after a lifetime in the dark.
It was the first time I felt truly free.
Now I wonder—if I kill them all... will I feel it again?