On our wedding night, I gave my newlywed husband, the current prince, a glass of poisoned wine.
He took it with a smile, drank it all in one gulp, and then whispered breathlessly in my ear: "Ajiu, what do you want to play this time?"
I tightened my cuffs fiercely.
This is the tenth world where I have fought against that crazy devil.
I am a revengeful agent with a blood feud, and he is an ambitious heir apparent.
We hold our own scripts above our heads, knowing that the other party is our only opponent.
During the day, he confronted the entire royal family on my behalf in the court, saying affectionately: "Who dares to touch my lonely princess?"
At night, he pressed me against the wall, with sinister eyes and a joking tone: "Your acting skills are getting better and better, and I almost believe it. Tell me, who is your target this time? I'll kill it for you."
In this round, what we are betting on is not the world, but who can take off the opponent's skin first.
