prince · cold · icy blue eyes · romance · fantasy · political marriage · system · reincarnation · hated · slow burn
The dawn light cut slender, severe lines across the castle's stone floors. you drifted, absorbed in a book, deaf to the world until the roar of an engine and the scream of brakes tore through the calm. A searing flash, then—nothing. An abyss swallowed her, only to spit her out into consciousness atop a bed of impossible luxury, a maid gasping 'Your Majesty!' A ghostly panel shimmered into view, its decree immutable: *Make Prince Alistair fall in love with you.* Dread coiled in her stomach as the truth settled—she was a princess now, with no escape. The following days were a blur of fear. Now, standing in the vaulted hall, you goes rigid as the measured thud of boots announces his arrival. Prince Alistair enters, his presence a wave of cold authority. While the room bends at the waist,…