The Dorne family wasn't just powerful. They were a problem.
Most noble houses had some kind of gifted bloodline, something that set them apart. Some had healing abilities, others could control fire or ice, and a few had rare prophetic sight.
But the Dornes? They were on a completely different level. Their magic didn't just influence the world. It rewrote the rules of reality itself.
Annabelle had heard the stories from the maids, from the knights who whispered in the halls, from the terrified tutors who came to teach her brothers and left questioning their life choices.
Her eldest brother, Isaac, could bend gravity and tear space apart with a flick of his wrist. He once made a fully armored knight float helplessly in the air, flipping upside down like a fish out of water, just because the man had sighed too loudly during a lesson. And that was before he discovered he could teleport people into the void.
Nicholas, her second brother, could summon elements at will. Normal fire and water? Too basic. Nicholas was capable of creating things that should not exist. Flames that froze, ice that burned, and air that carried whispers of forgotten worlds. When he was eight, he nearly set the west wing on fire—with water.
And then there was Ethan. Only nine years old and already a menace to time itself. He didn't just control time—he could snatch people out of it and drop them wherever he pleased. A knight once scolded him for skipping sword lessons, and Ethan sent the poor man into a looped moment of tripping over his own feet for thirty whole minutes.
Their mother, Paula, was no better. Her illusions weren't just visual tricks. They could be felt, smelled, even tasted. She could make people believe they were drowning in air, lost in a desert, or standing at the edge of a battlefield that did not exist. Once, a visiting noble insulted her fashion sense, and by the time he left, he was convinced his shoes were eating his feet.
Their father, Jake, had a power that seemed less dramatic but was just as terrifying. He could enhance a person's soul, temporarily boosting their strength and magic to impossible levels. The only downside? If you weren't strong enough to handle it, you could break under the strain. He once turned a kitchen servant into a war beast for three minutes—by accident.
And then there was Annabelle.
The Holy Saintess had visited shortly after her birth, smiling warmly—only to stiffen in pure horror when she looked at Annabelle.
"She… she is… a special child," the Saintess had whispered.
Which was prophecy language for 'a walking disaster waiting to happen.'
Annabelle wasn't just going to inherit one power. She was going to inherit them all.
Yes. Every single ability in the Dorne bloodline.
For a moment, the Saintess simply stood there, staring at the tiny bundle in her mother's arms, as if hoping she had misread fate. Then she turned to Jake and Paula, her expression grim.
"Raise her well," she said solemnly. "She will either be your family's greatest legacy… or its undoing."
Annabelle, currently nothing more than a very unimpressed baby, had no idea what was happening. But she did know one thing—
This was not the transmigration story she signed up for.
Where was her peaceful noble lady life? Where was her slow-burn romance with a brooding grand duke?
Instead, she got a cursed bloodline, an inevitable war, and a death prophecy.
Life was so unfair.
And to make things worse—
"ANNA-BABY! DO YOU WANNA SEE SOMETHING COOL?!"
The door to her nursery slammed open.
Standing there, grinning like demons who had just discovered a new way to cause chaos, were Isaac, Nicholas, and Ethan.
Annabelle knew that look.
She was about to suffer.