Chapter 1. Possessed by a Wrecked Novel I Didn't Even Read?
The jolting vibration snapped me back to consciousness.
The first sensations were the sharp, sour tang of leather assaulting my nose and a chill that pierced straight to my bones. When I opened my eyes, I saw the cramped, opulent interior of a carriage.
Where the hell am I?
This felt too real for a dream—the vibrations rattling through my ass were way too vivid. As I panicked and scanned my surroundings, a translucent pink window suddenly popped up in front of me.
You have safely transmigrated into the world of the novel Blood Rose at Winter's End!
"......Blood Rose at Winter's End?"
The moment I heard the title, an illustration flashed through my mind.
A black-haired beauty perched on a desk in a dark study, her blood-red eyes staring out—that was exactly my type, the novel I'd clicked on like a moth to a flame.
But the tags—#wrecked #revenge #massacre—had me thinking, Nah, my fragile mentality can't handle this, so I'd just bookmarked the title and cover in my heart and hit back.
"Hold up. I was just crashing in my room, planning to drag myself to work tomorrow, and now I'm inside that wrecked novel? Did I die in my sleep or something? At least I'll have some OP protagonist perks and powers, right?"
You are Rian, an extra prince who gets his head chopped off by the princess right after turning adult in 2 years!
"What? I've only got 2 years left to live?"
"And I don't know shit about the plot! I only saw the title and cover!"
I'll give you 'original plot details' as a reward based on your choices! 💖
"First off, why the hell do I die?"
The system's response left me speechless. Who cares why I die..?
"Hah... Fine, screw dying in 2 years—what matters is, where am I headed right now?"
Right now, Rian is en route to the Winterfell Ducal Residence, where the princess resides, for their marriage in 2 years.
"I've been in this body for not even 20 minutes and you didn't give me time to sort shit out? What am I supposed to do when I meet the princess?"
Since you've transmigrated into a romance fantasy, you gotta have sweet romance with our ice princess Beatrice! 💖
"Oh, so the beauty on the cover is named Beatrice..."
"Wait, no—romance? This novel didn't even have a romance tag to begin with!!"
I wanna watch you and Beatrice get all lovey-dovey and sweet!! 💖
"Hah, this is insane... You shove me into this body and now you want me to romance the woman who's gonna kill me..."
Anyway... Let's sum this up: I'm an 18-year-old prince who gets offed by the princess at our wedding right after I turn adult in 2 years. Who the fuck gets killed by their wife on their wedding day?
"So, if I manage to seduce Beatrice, can I survive?"
"Not even sure about that..."
"Your Highness, we've arrived."
Before I could finish, the knight captain escorting me spoke up. The door swung open, and with a blast of frigid northern wind, he guided me out.
Stepping down, I was greeted by a massive black mansion radiating northern authority. At the main gate stood an elderly butler, a head maid, and a lineup of maids from the estate.
Holy shit, it's freezing. If I have to live here, I'll croak before 2 years are up.
"We welcome you to the Winterfell Ducal Residence, shield of the North."
The butler's dry greeting was punctuated by a knife-like gust slicing across my cheek.
What the—welcoming me and no cloak or anything? Shivering in the cold wind, I half-listened to the butler's tour of the ducal residence until we stopped before an office.
"Milady, Prince Rian has arrived."
"Come in."
The door opened to reveal an office steeped in extreme cold and stillness. Beyond a massive obsidian desk in the center, she stood by the window, slowly turning her head.
Her jet-black hair fluttered in the northern wind, and through it, blood-red eyes pierced me straight on. It was the overwhelming beauty from the cover illustration, but her real presence was so heavy it made breathing difficult.
"My, it seems the imperial prince finds the northern climate rather unfamiliar."
Beatrice's gaze drifted to my shoulder. Overwhelmed by the harsh cold and her aura, I'd been trembling uncontrollably without realizing it.
She watched my shivering form for a moment before indifferently extending her hand.
Swoosh—.
The open curtains drew shut, and the thick glass windows sealed. The knife-wind scourging the room vanished in an instant, leaving an eerie silence.
With an emotionless face, she perched on the edge of the seat at the head of the office.
"Sit. We have much to discuss."
"Butler, see to your duties until I call for you."
"Yes, milady. Call when you need me."
As the door clicked shut behind the butler, I dragged my stiff body to a seat close to her, settling in cautiously.
Her fingers lightly tapped the armrest of the leather chair, as if brooking no silence.
"Well then, Your Highness."
Beatrice crossed her legs. The smooth line of her leg, clad in black stockings, entered my view.
"Or should I call you my fiancé?"
Whoa, she's insanely gorgeous. That voice was pure seduction, and those black stockings? Unreal.
But I couldn't ogle for long. Her blood-red eyes gleamed fiercely, as if dissecting the depths of my soul.
"Your Highness, are you that nervous? No answer to my question?"
"I... You're so beautiful, I lost myself for a moment."
Beatrice's eyebrow twitched faintly at my stammered words. An enigmatic smile—mockery? Surprise?—curved her lips.
"Your lips are glossy enough for imperial blood. But saying that while staring at my legs? It lacks conviction."
Her gaze followed my blatant stare down, then back up. A chilling sensation like a snake slithering over me made my spine crawl.
Shit, was calling her beautiful a bad move? Isn't that normal on a first meeting—like a blind date?
As regret sank in for my first-meeting blunder, a pink floral pattern flashed across my vision.
Oh my! Is this vibe for real? 💖
Our ice princess is sizing you up right now—pervy creep or ballsy madman? Mess this up, and you might not last till 2 years... or even today! First time, so here's some choices!
1. Apologize and pick between 'fiancé' or 'Your Highness'!
[Survival: 95% / Reward: None / Note: Labeled boring normie.]
2. Boldly retort: "Eyes aren't gonna wear out from looking!"
[Survival: 5% / Reward: Plot Fragment <Beatrice's Hobby>]
3. Smoothly deflect and suggest pet names for each other
[Survival: ??% / Reward: Plot Fragment <Beatrice's Past>]
What the hell is ??% survival? If you're gonna tell me, make it clear.
But what caught my eye was the reward. Beatrice's Past. In a wrecked novel like this, knowing the heroine's backstory was obviously the key to survival. For someone clueless like me, it was a lifeline.
Pet names for each other? Too sweet! 💖
"Your Highness? You're taking too long. Surely you're not daydreaming in my office?"
Beatrice uncrossed her legs slowly, leaning her upper body toward me. A cool rose scent brushed my nose as her blood-red eyes loomed right in my face. The overwhelming beauty made my head spin.
Screw it! Wrecked novel heroes are all crazy anyway!
I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them, parting my lips.
"I was so nervous I was rude. Anyway, skipping formalities—since we're getting married when I come of age, how about more friendly names? Call me Rian instead of fiancé."
"......?"
The princess stared blankly, face impassive, like she'd misheard. Screw it. Committed now—gotta see it through.
"And I'd like to call you Betty. What do you think?"
In that instant, the air in the room literally froze. Beatrice's expression went from blank to a frozen screen, and only the ticking of the wall clock pendulum echoed cruelly: tick, tick.
The princess's 'murderous intent' has been temporarily overwritten by 'WTF' and vanished!
Rian! You're one hell of a romantic!
Beatrice gaped at me in a daze, then murmured lowly.
"Be...tty?"
Her voice held less killing intent than thick bewilderment from her first-ever cognitive dissonance.