The Vane Dynasty: My Life as a Transmigrated Royal

Transmigrating into a new world was supposed to be a fresh start. Instead, I woke up married to a man with the face of a god and a heart made of pure ice.

​For three years, I played the part of the perfect, obedient husband in our same-sex marriage. I loved him fiercely, but to him, I was never more than an elegant doll on display—a political fixture, while his true affections belonged to someone else. Living in his grand manor wasn’t a luxury; it was a beautifully gilded cage where my feelings went to die.

​Now, the waiting is finally over. The final blow has arrived on a silver platter: the divorce papers."

Setting: A quiet room. The lawyers have just filed out, leaving only the heavy silence between two husbands who were always strangers.

​Mikhail: (Pushing the papers forward, his voice level and cool) “The settlement includes a substantial amount. It is more than enough to ensure you live comfortably, wherever you choose to go. If there is anything else you want, name it.”

Jian: (Voice soft, a trace of the body’s deep, hopeless longing slipping through) “Before I sign... I have one last request. A favor. Since you asked what I want.”

​Mikhail: (Raises an eyebrow, distant) “Speak.”

​Jain: (Stepping slightly closer, eyes scanning the husband’s handsome face, letting the physical desire show one last time) “Give me one night. Just one. It doesn’t have to be penetration if you don’t want it... just let me give you a blowjob. Let this body have you completely, just once, before I go.”

​Mikhail: (Stiffens completely, a look of profound disgust and shock crossing his face. He recoils as if burned.) “You... you really are a disgusting faggot. Is that all you think about? Even now?”

​Jian: (Stuns for a fraction of a second, the cruel words piercing straight through. Then, a sudden, breathy laugh escapes his lips. The laughter grows, sharp and mocking—not at the husband, but at himself for ever caring.) “Haha... ha...”

​(The laughter cuts off abruptly. The warmth completely vanishes from the Jian eyes, replaced by an icy clarity.)

​Jian: “Right. Of course. Silly me.”

​(Without a single tremble, the jian picks up the pen, signs the divorce papers with a fluid stroke, and slides them across the desk.)

​Jian: “It’s done. Give me three days. Three days to find a place, pack my things, and vanish entirely. Exactly like you want.”

​The Realization of Neglect (Internal Monologue / Narration)

​For three long years, this body had been nothing more than an ornament in his house. A doll. And like a doll, I was never touched, never held, and never given a single moment of sensual pleasure. Every night spent in that cold, massive bed was a lesson in starvation. The body I transmigrated into carried a deep, cellular aching—a desperate, pathetic longing just to feel the heat of another person, to know what it felt like to be desired by the man who wore my ring.

​I thought, just once, before the contract was torn up, I could satisfy that quiet hunger. I thought he might grant me a final, merciful crumbs of intimacy.

​How foolish of me.