Doomsday Princess: Play the Pig to Eat the Tiger

Recommended

As I was forced to sign the marriage contract on a sheet coated in radioactive dust, the whole royal city laughed.

“That Yan family wastrel can’t even afford a Level Three Purification Liquid. What makes her think she deserves to be the Regent King’s secondary consort?” Outside the sedan curtains embroidered with radiation flowers, a maid’s snicker mingled with the blowing sand.

I stared at the two iron-brush characters “Huo Jin” on the contract, digging my nails into my palm. Of course they didn’t know I had the blueprints for an energy core hidden in my sleeve, salvaged from the ruins of a laboratory in the old world. And they had no idea that the man who always swept a sinister gaze over the back of my neck had already pressed a dagger to my waist. “At Xiao Jin’s charity banquet in three days, expose his hypocrisy for me.”

Xiao Jin, the foundation chairman who always stroked his white beard and declared, “The apocalypse calls for even greater compassion.” Just last month, he sold twenty truckloads of clean water to the slums in exchange for bones, then turned around and donated ten boxes of expired nutritional supplements to the royal city.

Did he think I was a fool he could push around?

When he stood in the middle of the resource summit, holding a speech about “relief grain,” I slapped the coordinates of his secret underground radiation weapons depot on the table.

“Elder Xiao, is this your idea of ‘compassion’? Turning the whole city into monsters?”

The room fell deathly silent.

Huo Jin’s dragon-patterned cloak swept past my feet. He bent to straighten my disheveled hairpin, then chuckled as his finger brushed the tip of my ear. “That move was even harsher than I expected, Secondary Consort.”

Did they think I wanted to become the princess consort?

What a joke.