Chapter 1 The Bride
The day I died, I expected darkness.
Instead, I woke up in a wedding dress beside the most dangerous man in the empire.
My name is Henrietta Jones. A regular college student who lived on instant noodles and novels. I didn’t go to parties. I didn’t date. My idea of fun was arguing with strangers in the comments section of webcomics.
That night, I found one called The Dark Allies.
The villain, Duke Cassian Blackthorne, was being judged unfairly. The author made him execute an innocent maid in Chapter 47, and the live broadcast chat exploded with heart emojis. “YES! Kill her!” “Best villain ever!”
I couldn’t hold it in.
“That’s not justice!” I yelled at my screen. “He’s misunderstood! You’re ruining him!”
I slammed my coffee mug on the floor. Coffee splashed everywhere — over my laptop cord, over the power strip, over my feet.
The shock hit me like a truck.
My vision whited out. My last thought was: Well… at least I won’t have to read Chapter 48.
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After what felt like forever, I slowly opened my eyes.
The ceiling wasn’t my dorm’s cracked paint. It was gold. Arched. Dripping with chandeliers that cost more than my school fees.
The air smelled like roses… and iron.
I tried to sit up and silk whooshed. Heavy. Red. Embroidered with vines that looked like they could move. A wedding dress. Not mine. Too expensive. Too… funeral-like.
My hands weren’t mine. Paler. Slender. A ring sat on my finger, engraved with a crest: a black thorn wrapped around a crown.
Panic clawed up my throat.
This wasn’t my body. This wasn’t my world.
And then I saw him.
Beside me on the bed sat a man with slate-gray eyes and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Duke Cassian Blackthorne. The villain I was defending ten minutes ago. In the comic, he killed the heroine in this exact scene.
“Finally awake, my bride?” His voice was low, amused, dangerous. “The priest has been waiting for an hour. Try not to faint again. It ruins the moment."
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
My brain short-circuited.
The last Lady Blackthorne died this morning. Choked on her tea, according to Chapter 46.
And now I was wearing her dress. In her body. On her wedding day.
“You’re… you’re supposed to be in prison,” I blurted,
His smirk sharpened.
“And you’re supposed to be dead, Lady Darlene. How… inconvenient for both of us.”
The doors slammed open.
A servant rushed in, then froze when he saw my face.
“Your Grace… she doesn’t look—”
“She does,” Cassian cut in.
His cold hand closed around mine.
“Smile, wife. The empire is watching. And if you scream, they’ll think you’re mad.”
Outside, I heard a crowd cheering.
Inside, I realized the truth
I didn’t just enter the comic.
I replaced the dead wife of the villain I was trying to save.
And Chapter 48 was about to start — with me in it.
