The Villain Princess Rewrites Her Fate

The Mortal Verdict

Lovf froze for ten seconds, then turned and ran off crying under Chester's and a crowd of others' complicated stares.

She did not feel all that wronged. After all, she had a soul in its twenties, and no matter how smoothly life had gone these years, she had hit a few bumps somewhere. It was just this child's body that was too weak; the moment her nose tingled she could cry a whole faceful, and she did not have the nerve to stand before Chester with snot and tears smeared all over her face and talk as if nothing had happened, so she covered her face and ran.

Besides, the version of herself that had nursed unrealistic fantasies about Chester was a complete fool. Lovf covered her face and ran back to her room, shut the door, and sat on the sofa to slap her own cheeks wildly: Wake up, Lovf! Have you forgotten how Princess Lovfrida died in the novel? Chester is a hopeless devil. Do not harbor a single fantasy about him, or you'll become part of the book yourself!

Chester was, after all, the ruler of a nation, and did not squabble with a five-year-old. Though Lovf seriously doubted whether he had any concept at all of what "five years old" meant.

That very afternoon, Gene came beaming to Lovf's quarters and told Aita that Melica would not be coming anymore; His Majesty would hire a learned scholar for the princess to teach basic subjects. In a while, an aptitude test would be arranged for the princess, during which she could discuss with the teacher about studying natural history and literacy, or simply rest. But out of respect for the teacher, the princess would need to apologize to Madam Melica in person.

Lovf could not have asked for more, and agreed at once, going to say goodbye to Melica that very afternoon. Aita felt a little regret, but then thought of the princess she had watched grow up crying like that, and softened again.

Before the aptitude test, Lovf chose to study literacy and natural history with the teacher. It was only after seeing Laila's big tail that she realized the novel's depiction of this world was fairly limited; most of it revolved around the heroine's background and romance, and she badly needed a broader understanding of this world.

The teacher turned out to be quite nice, an elderly gentleman with a great bushy beard, very patient, and spoke with order. Hearing Lovf wanted to study natural history, he first slowly explained the world's general situation, unrolling a map to walk the little student through it.

The moment he unrolled it, Lovf's worldview took a bit of a collapse.

This world was nothing like what she had once assumed: a few human kingdoms, elves keeping to their corner, and restless orcs. Beyond the kingdoms lay empires, and each flamboyant race had its own great empire, each vaster than the last, with no corner kept to anywhere. In the power-wielder hierarchy, even the Divine Tier her father occupied was only halfway up; above it loomed all manner of world-toppling titans who, as long as they lived and did not die, could balance water and heat and regulate veins of ore and soil, whose burst of power could pierce the world's barriers and rewrite physical laws, veritable walking world-ending weapons.

Lovf thought she might be able to go home.

Lovf thought she would never make it in this lifetime.

The old man watched the little princess struck as if by lightning, chuckled, and stroked his beard.

Radiance was indeed no great power, but it sat in the heart of the fifteen eastern nations of the Mortal-governed lands. Though no titan watched over it, neither were there any strong enemies nearby; its internal and external environment was generally stable, and it was an old country with over ten thousand years of history.

But he was in no hurry to say all that. The world was vast; let this likely-heir little highness remember that first. Only after she became queen might she cross the distance short-lived races could see, and glimpse farther places in the river of time.

Lovf took many days to recover.

She truly understood now what Laila and Gene had meant by "the world is vast."

Indeed, faced with so immense and dazzling a world, fussing over how high the little finger curled when lifting a teaspoon at tea was pointless.

Lovf did not know what Chester was thinking, but she knew she was unlikely to go on being a salted-fish princess.

After seeing the world's vastness, those maps, the customs of each race, the different rites and festivals, the palaces of the gods, the brilliant history. Even in words and illustrations alone, she could no longer stay ignorant in a single palace all her life.

After seeing all that, to willingly trap herself in the court for life, knowing nothing, beautiful and well-kept, and at the right age find some decent man to go on knowing nothing under his care, bearing children, fussing daily over the curve of a smile in conversation, the posture of tea-drinking, the gossip of neighbors, careless of the outside world, summing up all she knew with a disdainful shrug.

Lovf felt any attempt to give a girl such a life was a crime.

Perhaps her body would stay in one home, but in her heart the sky was broad and the earth high.

She began to sincerely thank Chester. The old man knew everything, but understood little of etiquette, courtly arts, or the balancing of people; just enough to compare with other races and civilizations, clearly Chester's deliberate choice, to broaden her horizons rather than drill her in the narrow arts of a noble girl.

She held firm that Chester was genuinely toxic, still with no concept of "five-year-old," yet she thanked him all the same, and for the first time since transmigrating felt keenly Chester's care and concern for the eldest princess Lovfrida.

Lovf did not know whether the Lovfrida of the novel had ever dumped the teapot on Melica's face; if she had not, would she have missed all this for lack of the courage to step out, and ended a refined, exquisite canary in a gilded cage? Or perhaps she had, and saw this brilliant world, yet in the end still trapped herself to death inside Radiance's royal palace?

Lovf did not know. But never had she so urgently wished she had even a sliver of aptitude. Even to glimpse the real sky required a pair of wings.

In the ninth month of that year, the formation mage envoy stationed at Radiance's capital from the Floating City came at King Chester's invitation to preside over the eldest princess Lovfrida's aptitude test.

Aita dressed Lovf up beautifully, worrying especially as she adjusted her collar. The collar that was always neat seemed today as if it could never be straightened in her eyes.

Laila, watching from the side, grew restless, came over to straighten Lovf's clothes, then simply lifted Lovf up. "Alright, Aita, it's fine. Formation mages are rare. The one here today is a Domain-tier mage, a whole rank below His Majesty. What's there to panic about."

Aita flustered: "But it's an important rite all the same. It's fine, it's fine, our highness needn't panic, our highness is the best."

Lovf: I'm not panicking, Aita. Your face is red with nerves.

She knew Aita was truly worried; she did not understand the world of power-wielders, only felt that world was mighty and perilous. But she knew becoming a power-wielder was a good thing, so she fretted for her princess all the same.

Lovf leaned down and kissed Aita's sweat-beaded forehead, giving her a lovely smile: "Aita, I'll be right back."

Chester had opened a normally-unused mage tower in the palace for Lovf's aptitude test.

He arrived earlier than Lovf, standing beside a plump, smiling middle-aged woman in a distinctly styled robe, presumably the formation mage from the Floating City.

This was Lovf's first time seeing Chester since the garden tea party that day; when she had apologized to Madam Melica, he had only sent Gene. Today the king and father still wore that cold look, not sparing even an extra glance. But Lovf had to perform the full set of courtesies.

The plump formation mage beside Chester was quite friendly, however; she stopped Lovf about to curtsy, helped her up with a smile, and looked her over. She even praised her eyes as pretty, with a curious, probing look, probably because Lovf so resembled Chester.

She asked Lovf to walk onto the gaudily-painted great formation of unknown material, reassured her this formation's magic load was very low and would do her no harm, and not to wander off. Then she activated the formation.

Light climbed layer upon layer from the formation on the ground, each thread seemingly a different color. Lovf stood in the formation's center, as if seeing stars light up in the dark mage tower above her head.

Those lights circled her, leaping, spiraling, rising, overlapping into a kaleidoscopic splendor, each thread so clear and bright, lightly ascending toward the dark sky.

Before long, the formation dimmed.

Lovf looked to the formation mage with anticipation, yet her expression showed not a hint of joy or blessing; beside her, Chester had already furrowed his brow with an ugly look.

Her heart sank.

"Father, Master Mage," she hesitantly walked toward the two, glancing at their darkening faces, and asked waveringly, "is... my aptitude very poor..."

Chester gave her a long look, then turned and left.

His gaze made Lovf feel her heart sink into the empty darkness of the mage tower.

She stared blankly at the direction Chester had left, a sentence she could not face roaring and exploding in her mind, blasting her whole self out of thought.

I... have no aptitude...?

The formation mage from the Floating City at least still spared a thought for the little girl; seeing Lovf so distressed, she winked at her and forced a smile: "Your Highness is clever and quick; even not being a power-wielder, you may achieve unprecedented greatness in other ways."

Lovf's body wept uncontrollably again. She wiped hard but did not get it clean, still wanting to struggle, and with tear-soaked hands tugged the plump mage's sleeve, her voice already changed: "At least tell me what attribute I am, please, may Master Mage tell me?"

The mage's gaze fell on the formation that had spent its magic, her expression a little unwilling: "You... have no attribute. You cannot resonate with any element, rule, or innate ability."

Lovf released her with tear-blurred eyes.

What happened after that day, Lovf no longer remembered. She only remembered it was a very shattered, very panicked day.

When she came to herself it was already deep night; cold white moonlight fell into the princess's bedroom, and in the vast room she lay alone on her small bed, the pillow soaked with tears.

Lovf sat up; sleep was out of the question. Thinking of Chester's wordless departure, the mage's regretful words, and Laila and Aita's panic and worry, her body again wanted to cry uncontrollably.

Yet she had no idea how long she had cried; her tears were probably long dried up. Not only could she not cry, her chest ached.

Lovf walked to the table and drank a great gulp of the cool water on it. A child's strong fire did not find it uncomfortable, rather felt much recovered. She turned her head and swept the empty room, and saw the full-length mirror by the door.

That woman in red was still sitting there.

Beautiful, gentle. Lovf sat before the mirror, behind her the empty sofa. As if meeting the eyes of the woman on the sofa in the mirror.

They truly looked alike.

The same deep-blue pupils, the same soft golden curls, even the shape of their features somewhat similar. If Lovf grew up, perhaps she would resemble her far more.

As on how many days and nights over the past five years, she sat there upright, with no reaction.

Lovf had always thought talking to an unresponsive shadow was utterly foolish, but at this moment she finally cast that worry aside. She gently pressed her right palm to the mirror and said softly to the golden-haired woman in the mirror, "Are you my mother?"

Are you the mother of Princess Lovfrida?

She sat upright there, her gaze seeming to rest on Lovf, seeming not to.

But Lovf knew she was listening.

This feeling was truly strange; she knew she was only a shadow, never having moved a hair, yet strangely certain she was watching her, listening to her speak.

Having studied natural history these past days, and because Lovf was to test her aptitude she had learned a bit more of power-wielder customs; only now did she notice that the red dress the woman in the mirror wore, though it looked noble, was in fact a standard power-wielder's ceremonial robe.

A sash at the waist, the sash extending forward on the left side into a knot to hang a close weapon. The sleeves gathered at the shoulder, the long hem only to mid-forearm, so the mage could move her arms freely. The skirt fell straight down, with no upward-tied knot, for fear of snagging in battle.

Though her hair spilled loose, lavishly spread on the chair, even a few strands curling onto the floor, and though she wore a magnificent, seemingly utterly impractical gold-red overdress, the long dress beneath was unquestionably power-wielder attire.

"I know you're listening. Are you unable to speak? If you don't answer, I'll take you as my mother." Lovf curled before the mirror, a little aggrieved, watching the golden beauty. "I took my aptitude test today. I can't resonate with any element, rule, or innate ability. I'm a complete Mortal. You're a power-wielder, I suppose. I didn't inherit a single strength from you or Chester."

"Chester is a devil. He first let me taste the pain of a noble girl trapped in court with no power, then showed me so vast a world. Then I have no aptitude at all, and he won't even spare me a glance."

Lovf spoke and cried again, sobbing as she went: "I don't want to, don't want to be trapped in court as a useless princess. I want to go out and see, want to see that world, want to go to many places. But I, I'm not a power-wielder. I have no power to protect myself, not even the power to resist."

The woman in the mirror sat quietly there. The longer one looked, the more it seemed an illusion that she was listening.