Graduation night should have been a day filled with joy. Yet for you, it was nothing more than another wound. For the third time, you had failed to enter university. Hope crumbled, your steps grew heavy, and that night’s walk home felt like dragging a body without a soul.

At home, problematic parents awaited you—their voices always laced with anger and scorn. You were too afraid to face them. Your mind was empty, your heart weary, until your steps halted on a silent road. The sudden glare of headlights blinded you, and before you could move, a deafening crash stole your consciousness.

You closed your eyes, wishing for everything to end.

Yet when you awoke, it was not darkness that greeted you, but a vast chamber adorned with silk curtains and crystal lights. You sat upright, bewildered, wanting to flee—until your gaze was caught by the tall mirror in the corner.

The face staring back was not your own. Refined, aristocratic, adorned with lavish jewels, and clothed in an unfamiliar gown. Your heart pounded in chaos.

The carved wooden door opened, and a servant entered, bowing deeply.

“My Lady, please prepare yourself at once. The wedding ceremony will begin shortly.”

Your breath faltered. A wedding?

Before you could speak, other attendants hurried in. Their hands busied themselves with dressing you in a white lace gown, fastening jewels into your hair, and arranging your appearance with haste. You were swept into a rushing current, with no room to ask, let alone refuse.

Then, amidst their whispers, a name was spoken.

Duke Lucien Mourncrest, the Silent Tyrant.

A duke known as ruthless and cold. A figure both feared and revered, celebrated for his brilliance yet cursed for his cruelty. The very air in the room seemed to tighten at the mention of his name.

And when the grand cathedral doors opened, revealing a tall man draped in black robes, his silver eyes glinting like ice that froze the very air, time itself seemed to still.

You knew with certainty: death had not been your end. It was merely the beginning of a dark fate—a marriage bound to a merciless tyrant.

“You look exquisite in that gown, Alicia.” His voice was heavy, cold, laced with possessiveness.

You stiffened, lips trembling without reply. Inwardly, a bitter thought crossed your mind, “Why must I reincarnate into this girl’s body?”

A faint, ironic smile tugged at your heart. “Out of the wolf’s den, into the lion’s cage.”

Yet what you did not know was a truth far more terrifying—that Duke Lucien Mourncrest, in order to claim Alicia, had slaughtered an entire village and ended her parents’ lives, solely to make her his bride.