The crown prince.
An engagement that had been arranged long before she could even understand what it truly meant.
A relationship polished by politics and appearances—
and hollowed out by indifference.
—How could His Highness be so heartless?!
—Step aside. You do not make my heart beat.
Those words echoed in my mind, fragments of a future I already knew too well.
And then there was....
The original protagonist.
The one who would enchant her effortlessly, without even trying—
the one who would capture her gaze, her loyalty, her entire life.
The very person who would lead her to ruin, simply by existing.
"Even though I’ve only seen him in portraits," Alice said softly, her voice tinged with anticipation, "meeting His Highness in person still makes my heart race."
"...I see."
I clenched my teeth, careful not to let anything show.
She was smiling—genuinely smiling—lost in the fantasy of a future she believed was waiting for her.
And that made it worse.
A translucent message flickered into view.
───
[Alice’s Ruin Progress Updated]
[40%]
───
The number hit harder than any accusation.
My anger, which had been simmering just beneath the surface, cooled instantly—replaced by something far more dangerous.
Clarity.
’Right,’ I thought. ’Getting angry won’t change anything. I need a plan.’
Given what had happened with Freedman before, there was only one plausible reason her ruin progress had increased now.
She was getting closer to the crown prince.
The source of everything.
’That explains it,’ I realized. ’Why her ruin progress never dropped below thirty percent, even after our first meeting.’
Before I ever arrived in this story—
She had already been engaged.
As long as that bond remained intact, her downfall was practically predetermined.
At least, according to the system.
"Julies?" Alice glanced over at me, concern creasing her brow. "You look pale."
Damn.
I must have let my thoughts linger on my face for too long.
"It’s nothing," I said quickly, forcing a small smile. "I think it’s just the nerves. Since we’re almost there... I suddenly feel a bit nauseous."
Her expression softened immediately.
"Then you should rest for a bit," she said gently. "It would be troublesome if you’re still unwell when we reach the Imperial Palace."
I nodded, grateful for the excuse—and for her kindness.
As I leaned back, closing my eyes, one thought settled firmly in my mind.
’If the engagement is the root of her ruin...’
Then that was where I would start.
Whether fate liked it or not.
The carriage rocked gently as it rolled forward, the rhythmic clatter of wheels against stone almost lulling.
Almost.
I closed my eyes, but rest refused to come. Behind my eyelids, images surfaced one after another—scenes I hadn’t lived yet, but knew all too well.
Alice standing alone in the imperial hall.
Whispers curling around her like poison.
The crown prince’s cold gaze, already turned elsewhere.
And finally—
Her name spoken with pity.
’No,’ I thought. ’I won’t let it reach that point.’
If the engagement was the axis around which her ruin revolved, then everything else was merely a consequence. Breaking it wouldn’t be easy—royal blood, noble contracts, the Empire’s pride. A single misstep could doom not only Alice, but everyone connected to her.
Which meant brute force was out of the question.
’Then I’ll need leverage.’
Information. Scandals. Political pressure.
Or—
A reason so undeniable that even the Imperial Family would be forced to step back.
----
"We’ll take a short break."
The order was given, and the procession slowed as we paused before the towering outline of the Imperial Palace came fully into view.
While the others remained behind, I stepped away from the carriage, the cool air doing little to settle the uneasy churn in my stomach. The closer we got, the heavier everything felt—like walking straight toward a future already written in blood.
"Such an overprotective one."
Velra clicked her tongue behind me, clearly amused by my silence.
Before I could respond, she leaned in, her hand lifting to hover near my ear, her voice low and sharp.
"Anyone would think you’re the mother here," she muttered. "Try not to grow so attached to your prey."
I let out a quiet breath.
"How can I not be concerned?" I replied. "Affection plays a huge role in human emotions. And she’s doing... well enough as it is."
Velra straightened, looking at me as if I’d said something incomprehensible.
"Of course you’d think that way," she said flatly.
Deceiving her—redirecting her attention, slipping half-truths past her—had become almost effortless. As easy as eating cold porridge.
That, more than anything, unsettled me.
Velra frowned, clearly unconvinced, but I ignored her scrutiny and let my thoughts drift back to the problem gnawing at me.
’The cleanest solution would be to end the engagement by mutual agreement.’
Simple in theory.
Impossible in reality.
This wasn’t a romance—it was a political contract. A marriage meant to bind the royal family and the northern ducal house together. Power, territory, stability.
And Alice...
Alice would never betray her family’s expectations so easily.
Nor would the crown prince. Breaking off the engagement would mean bruising royal pride, admitting weakness. He’d resist it with everything he had.
’Either way, whoever suggests ending it first will carry the disgrace.’
A broken promise between two great houses.
Whispers of discord between the North and the Crown.
A crack that enemies would be all too eager to pry open.
It was a path that led nowhere good.
In the original story, it all ended with Alice’s death.
She paid the price for everyone else’s decisions.
’But I’m not going to just watch this time.’
In the game, Alice had been the sacrifice.
This time—
It would be my turn to change the ending.
’Leverage,’ I repeated silently. ’I need something that forces their hand.’
Not persuasion.
Not pleas.
Something unavoidable.
The Imperial Palace loomed ahead, its white spires piercing the sky like judgment itself. Every stone in those walls had been laid atop tradition, authority, and the absolute certainty that the royal family could never be wrong.
Which meant—
If I wanted to change the outcome, I couldn’t oppose them directly.
I had to corner them.
"Thinking too hard," Velra said lazily, stepping beside me. "Your expression’s getting ugly."
"Is that so?"
"Mm." She tilted her head, red eyes half-lidded. "That’s the face when someone make when they’re about to do something reckless."
I didn’t deny it.
Instead, I asked, "Velra. Hypothetically speaking... how fragile is royal legitimacy?"
Her brow twitched.