Okay, so let me get this right. I'm in my favorite novel? Like—living in my favorite novel. And I'm getting married to the villain?
Part of her still believed it was a dream. Even as the carriage rattled forward toward whatever event awaited her, even as her shoulder bumped against the carriage wall, she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't real. The last thing she remembered was sitting on a park bench—homeless, hopeless—with Romance in the Five Empyrean Cities clutched in her hands. So how…?
"This is madness," she muttered aloud, unable to bottle up her thoughts any longer.
None of this made sense. How was she suddenly a character in a novel? How was she supposed to marry the villain she despised?
She laughed again, for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
"Okay," she breathed. "This is a dream. I'll wake up on that park bench in the morning," she told herself.
Two figures sat across from her in the carriage—her lady-in-waiting, Amaris, and the older woman who had woken her earlier, Liora—but Daphne pretended as though she were alone.
It had been that way since the maids bathed her and dressed her. Oh, right, the dress. She hadn't even taken the time to properly look at it, though she remembered thinking it seemed oddly familiar.
The carriage finally slowed to a stop. Amaris hopped out first, looking elegant in her burgundy dress detailed with silver embroidery. Her jet-black hair, straight and smooth, was styled with an elaborate red bow that matched her gown.
She had one of the sharpest jawlines Daphne had ever seen and she was incredibly beautiful. Was it because she was… sketched? Sketched to perfection.
Amaris helped Daphne down. Daphne nearly stepped on her own dress but was saved at the last second. Everything felt foreign. Of course it did. She loved webtoons and spent hours reading them whenever she had free time, but actually living in one? That was impossible. Even if this were a dream… or a parody… or an act.
Wait. Maybe they were on a film set. She glanced around. Where were the cameras?
"Ama, please look after My Lady. She does not seem to be in her right senses," Liora called from the carriage.
Amaris nodded and took Daphne's hand.
The carriage door shut behind them, rolling away.
"Is she not coming with us?" Daphne asked.
"No, My Lady. She isn't your chaperone—I am. Now, Liora said you were drunk. What exactly did you drink?"
Daphne ignored the question, distracted by how eerily empty the surroundings were. A massive building loomed ahead, with polished marble steps leading up to its entrance.
"Why is this place so empty?" she asked, glancing around.
"That's because we're late. Everyone is already inside." Amaris tightened her grip on Daphne's hand. "Come. Let's go."
They climbed the stairs and reached the heavy double doors at the entrance. A guard appeared from the corner, dressed in a red-and-black uniform. He bowed deeply.
"Welcome, My Lady," he said as he pushed the doors open for them.
Amaris nodded politely and led Daphne inside.
The first thing Daphne noticed was the enormous chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Then, her eyes caught on a figure standing on the second-floor balcony. His back was turned, but something about him felt familiar.
Soft music drifted through the hall. Some people danced gracefully with partners, while others gathered in twos and threes, chatting quietly.
The moment they stepped farther in, dozens of heads turned toward her. Five men immediately rushed forward, all gazing at her with admiration.
Daphne froze under their attention.
Amaris leaned close and whispered, "They don't know about your engagement yet, so just play along for now."
Daphne swallowed hard, her stomach twisting. Everything felt too real. She no longer had the strength to laugh or call this a dream. Dreams weren't this detailed.
Turning to a glass panel nearby, she caught sight of her reflection.
The dress was breathtaking. It was a layered ballgown in rich shades of deep to pale blue. The off-the-shoulder neckline was trimmed with ruffles, the bodice fitted and corseted, the full skirt flowing in cascading tiers of lace and intricate embroidery.
She ran her hand over the patterns. It felt real. Too real.
Someone tapped her shoulder. She turned to find Amaris standing there, holding two champagne flutes and a small card.
"Here is your drink," Amaris said, handing her a glass. "And this is your card." She slipped the small card into Daphne's hand.
Daphne glanced down. It was numbered one through five, each line filled with a name.
"Noran Hale… Ezra Wolfe… What is this?" she asked, frowning.
"They're the names of the men who'll dance with you tonight, My Lady. You know that. How drunk are you, exactly?" Amaris frowned, reaching for the glass. "Maybe I shouldn't give you more to drink."
Daphne snatched the glass away. "No," she said firmly. "I think I need to get drunk for real. There's no way I can process this with a sane mind."
Then she downed the entire flute in one go.
Minutes later, Daphne found herself dancing with the first man on her list, to unfamiliar music, in an unfamiliar place, as an unfamiliar person, in an unfamiliar world.
The first man, Noran Hale, introduced himself as the son of the Left Chancellor of Astrelle City, the Fourth Empyrean City. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had a pleasant round face. He was polite enough, but when Daphne fumbled through his questions, his tone turned casual, the honorifics dropped.
The second was Ezra Wolfe, a senator from Tenebria City, the Second Empyrean City. He looked familiar — probably from the webtoon.
She tried not to dwell on how insane everything was, but she couldn't help comparing her surroundings to scenes from the story. She scanned the crowd repeatedly, hoping to spot someone she recognized.
And then, she froze.
He walked toward her with that same lopsided grin.
He looked exactly as he had on the screen and in the illustrated pages — short black hair, reddish-pink eyes, sharp jawline, slender build. His black suit featured a patterned vest, a tie, and a dark jacket draped elegantly over his shoulders. Silver accessories gleamed — earrings, a belt, a watch, a bracelet.
Varyn Nightbourne.
The main lead of her favorite novel.