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A Royal Mess

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opposites attract
second chance
arranged marriage
kickass heroine
princess
drama
lighthearted
soul-swap
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Kimberly Park, 26, had her life planned. A brilliant architect, she had just gotten the promotion she worked 5 years for. Until a rainy night on Third Mainland Bridge, when she reached for her ringing phone.One second. One truck. Her life ended.She wakes up not in a hospital, but in 1808 England - in the body of Lady Cordelia Ashworth, a 19-year-old Duke's daughter who just died after falling from her horse.And tomorrow, Cordelia is supposed to marry him.Crown Prince Aiden Cassian Thorne. 24. War hero. Ice cold. Handsome enough to make the entire court weep, and ruthless enough to make them kneel. He wanted a perfect, obedient, silent princess who would never challenge him.He did not get her.He got Kimberly.Kimberly doesn't know how to curtsy - she falls. She doesn't know how to hold a teacup - she holds it like a mug. She doesn't know how to be silent when a man tells her what to do. On their wedding night, when he tells her to learn to be a proper wife, she tells him to learn to say please.No one has ever dared speak to Prince Aiden like that.Now the palace is in chaos. The new Crown Princess is strange. She invents fried potatoes in the royal kitchen, she teaches maids to speak up and stand up for themselves.Aiden should be furious. He tries to be.But he can't look away. Because when she laughs - loud, bright, unladylike - something frozen in his heart begins to crack.She thought she got a second chance at life.He thought he got a loveless political marriage.But someone in the palace wanted the real Cordelia dead. And they won't stop just because a more stubborn girl is now wearing her face.She died once in her world and she can't afford to die again.Can she survive falling in love with the ruthless prince she never wanted?

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THE BRIDGE
--- *CHAPTER 1: THE BRIDGE* I never got to say goodbye to my mother. That was my last thought before the truck hit me. It was raining on Third Mainland Bridge. The wipers were moving as fast as they could, but I could barely see the road. My phone was ringing on the dashboard. MUM was flashing on the screen. I reached for it for just one second. I didn't see the truck coming in my lane. It was moving too fast. It didn't stop. The sound was not loud. It was soft, like paper folding. Glass shattered. Cold rain rushed in. Then white light, and nothing. I thought it was over. It wasn't. The first thing I felt was weight. So much weight on my waist and chest that I couldn't breathe. My ribs ached. My head was throbbing, a deep pain behind my eyes. I tried to move. Lace scratched my skin. This was not a hospital bed. I forced my eyes open. Above me was a canopy of dark red velvet with gold tassels. No lights. No machines beeping. The air smelled of lavender and old wood. Candles flickered on a far table. I was wearing a dress I had never seen before. Ivory satin with small pearls on the chest. A corset pulled so tight I could barely breathe. "What... what is this?" My voice was hoarse. It was not my voice. It was lighter, softer. "MY LADY! MY LADY CORDELIA! YOU ARE AWAKE!" A girl in a black maid dress dropped to her knees beside the bed, sobbing. Her cap was crooked. "Oh thank the heavens! We thought we lost you after the fall! You fell from your horse during the hunt!" Fall? No. I was in a car. "Where is my phone? I need to call someone," I whispered. The maid froze, tears still on her cheeks. "P-pardon, my lady? What is a phone?" A cold feeling started in my stomach. I looked around wildly. Stone walls. No light switch. No outlet. Only candles. "Where am I? What hospital is this? Please tell me what hospital this is." "This is Ashworth Manor, my lady. Your home. Your father's house." I stared at her. The room was too quiet. No cars. No hum of a fan. Just wind outside and the crackling of fire. My eyes filled with tears. "This cannot be my home. I don't know this place." She reached to touch my forehead. "My lady, you hit your head very hard on the rock." I threw the blankets off. My legs in silk stockings trembled. I stumbled to a tall mirror in the corner. A stranger stared back. Nineteen, maybe. Big brown eyes, pale lips, long dark dark hair past her waist. Beautiful. Fragile. It wasn't me. My hand shook as I touched the mirror. "Who... who am I?" I whispered. The maid behind me broke down completely. She started crying harder, hiccupping between sobs. "My - my lady? What are you saying? You - you are Lady Cordelia! You are Lady Cordelia Beatrice Ashworth! Don't - don't you remember me? I understood then, with a pain bigger than my headache. The real Cordelia died from that fall. And I woke up in her body. My knees gave out and I sank onto the rug, clutching that heavy dress that was not mine. "I was in a car! I was on the bridge! I need to go home!" The door opened hard. A man with a thick mustache and a severe black coat walked in. My father i think. He looked down at me on the floor, and his face was not worried. It was angry. "Cordelia," he said coldly. "So you are awake. How are you? Are you hurt anywhere?" I looked up at him, tears blurring my vision. Before I could answer, he scoffed. "Let me guess. This stunt you pulled? Falling from your horse? You think I don't know what you are doing? I know you don't want to marry Prince Aiden. I know you have been crying about it for weeks. But you will not ruin this family with your childish tricks." "Stunt? I didn't—" "You will marry tomorrow," he cut me off. "Prince Aiden arrives tomorrow morning for the wedding. You will be there. You will smile. You will be a proper lady. Do you understand me? Do not disgrace us." Prince Aiden. Even Mary flinched. In Cordelia's faint memories, I saw him - a man in black and gold, tall, black hair, grey eyes like winter ice. A ruthless prince who never smiled. He grabbed the door to leave. "I don't know how to be her," I whispered. "I don't know how to be Cordelia." He didn't even look back. "You will learn." And he slammed the door. ---

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