Fortune, Follies, and Love

Claire Li blinked and blinked again. The silk sheets under her fingers were impossibly smooth, the pillows plumped like clouds, and the room smelled faintly of vanilla and… panic. Yes, panic was an appropriate reaction. Yesterday, she had been in the imperial garden of her small but respectable fief in ancient Asia, giving a servant a perfectly justified scolding over unevenly cut bonsai branches. Today… she was apparently the eldest daughter of a family that could buy a small country and yet, somehow, she was dressed like a fashion magazine exploded on her. “Where am I?” she demanded, throwing off the blanket with a flourish. Her voice carried the authority of someone used to commanding armies and servants. “Miss Claire, breakfast is ready,” a maid said nervously, holding a tray stacked with foods that looked vaguely familiar and vaguely suspicious. A shiny gadget beeped somewhere in the corner. Claire frowned. Bowing? In a modern world? Did people still bow in secret? She wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t taking chances. A small, dramatic bow later, she plopped down, grabbed a fork, and poked suspiciously at a stack of pancakes. “Why is it round?” she asked aloud. “It’s a pancake, Miss,” the maid said, clearly regretting her career choices. “And why is it… floppy? It’s supposed to be firm! How do people survive like this?” Claire muttered. She jabbed it with the fork anyway—and promptly discovered maple syrup. She recoiled. Sweet? On food? In the morning? Barbaric. Yet… strangely satisfying. It was then she noticed a golden tablet or what humans apparently called an iPad on the nightstand. Curious, she picked it up and squinted at the glowing screen. “Messages? Social media? I don’t understand. How does one send a messenger pigeon through this?” She poked the screen experimentally. A video started playing. A man in an expensive suit waved. Claire’s eyes went wide. “…Is this a god? Or a demon? Why is he so tall, and why does he smile like he’s about to eat me?” The maid snorted. “That’s Ethan Chen, Miss. He’s… the son of the richest man in the world. You’re supposed to meet him at the charity gala tonight.” Claire froze. The richest man in the world? Her mind raced. In her world, the richest man owned a few provinces. Here, apparently, you could be “rich” enough to… buy provinces in bulk for fun. She shivered. “And I am supposed to meet him… why, exactly?” “Because your father arranged it,” the maid said meekly. “He thinks you two are… compatible.” Claire’s jaw dropped. Compatible? With this stranger god-child? I just woke up in a strange world and now I’m expected to engage in mating rituals, I suppose? With a stranger? She groaned dramatically. “This is worse than the time I accidentally offended the emperor’s favorite concubine by saying her dress looked like a sack of rice.” The maid’s eyebrows rose. “You… said that?” Claire waved a hand vaguely. “I say many things, little one. I have a history of brutal honesty. And survival. Mostly survival. Now tell me: do I at least get armor for this gala? Or a sword?” The maid blinked. “No… just dresses.” Claire flopped back against the pillow. Dresses. Armor. She would have to make do with dresses. She sighed. This world is going to kill me, isn’t it? A knock sounded at the door. Claire straightened immediately, sitting like a queen, hands clasped dramatically in front of her. “Enter,” she said in her most commanding voice. Her younger brother or someone who looked suspiciously like him peeked in. “Morning, Claire. Big day, huh?” Claire gave him a glare that could curdle milk. “You dare call this… a morning? You dare call this a big day? This is a potentially life-altering cultural encounter and you greet me with casual familiarity?!” The boy tall, handsome, and annoyingly unruffled smirked. “Relax. You’ll survive. Just… try not to scare Ethan Chen off with your… unique personality.” Claire blinked at him. “Unique personality?” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you know who I was? I am a tactician, a healer, a strategist of the empire! I am capable of leading armies and defending entire kingdoms! And you… you reduce me to a… a…” She flailed helplessly. “…social debutante?” He chuckled. “Basically.” Claire groaned and buried her face in the pillow. This world was going to be the death of her but at least, she thought, she had her “gold finger.” The knowledge, wisdom, and skills from her historical life could be turned into wealth, influence, and maybe even… love? She frowned thoughtfully. Love. That sounded dangerously complicated. But also intriguing. And so, with a sigh and a dramatic flourish, Claire resolved to survive this modern world. And perhaps, if fate allowed, to make it bow to her in ways far subtler and far more hilarious than she ever imagined.