I woke up to find myself transmigrated into an angsty historical romance as the stand-in princess consort.
According to the original story, the prince would torment me in body and soul, and I would die miserably in a cold courtyard when his true beloved finally returned.
Looking at my reflection, whose face bore a striking resemblance to hers, I smashed the jade pendant that marked our engagement.
To hell with being a stand-in. I’m going to be the queen of my own story.
When the prince took his beloved’s hand and told me to give up my place as his principal consort, I smiled and handed him a divorce agreement. “Your Highness, it’s time for you to step aside.”
He’ll never know that his beloved has long since become my devoted admirer.
