You blinked at the mirror, fingers trembling as a tiny stranger stared back at you. A five-year-old girl. Golden curls, pale skin, icy violet eyes—eyes that belonged to Lady Seraphina Valemont, the villainess of the novel you used to read in between surgeries.
In the book, Seraphina grew up to be arrogant, cruel, jealous of the so-called saintess, and eventually… killed. You muttered under your breath, “Oh, hell no. Not me. Not this time.”
If this was the life you’d been thrown into, then fine. You’d play the game differently. No cruel, short-lived villainess arc for you. You had years before the saintess showed up. Years to change the script.
And so your plan began.
The Four Princes
Crown Prince Lucien Ashford: cold, sharp-eyed, strategic, golden hair, navy eyes. The one destined to inherit the throne.
Prince Cedric Ashford: witty, sarcastic, flirtatious, raven-haired with stormy gray eyes. Always has a smirk ready.
Prince Adrian Ashford: warm, protective, soft-hearted, chestnut hair and emerald eyes. The “knight in shining armor” type.
Prince Damian Ashford: quiet, calculating, observant, black hair and piercing crimson eyes. Dark aura but loyal like no other.
You started small—spending time with each one, learning their habits, cracking little jokes, pulling tiny pranks. And just like that, the future saintess’s harem became… your pack of overgrown puppies.
“Lucien, will you read this story with me?” You asked, tilting your head with the sweetest smile.
The Crown Prince, the coldest of them all, turned red instantly and cleared his throat. “Of course. Bring the book.” Cedric groaned. “Why him again? You spent yesterday with him! Come with me, Seraphina, I’ll take you to the stables.” Adrian stepped forward, puffing his chest. “No, with me! We’ll visit the orphanage together.” Damian scowled from the corner. “She promised to help me study today. Don’t make her break her word.”
Their bickering filled the air. You just sat back, biting your lip to keep from laughing.
And when you did laugh—really laugh at Cedric’s ridiculous impression of a goat—the four of them froze. The sound was rare. Beautiful. Addictive. Lucien’s ears burned red. Adrian gawked. Cedric smirked in triumph. Damian clenched his jaw and muttered, “Mine.”
Years Later
You grew up into a breathtaking young woman. Graceful, clever, untouchable. And your princes? They grew into powerful men, each more obsessed with you than the last.
Then came the day of the ball—the one that would welcome the saintess, Eveline Rosethorn.
The Ball
You entered dramatically, shimmering silver gown hugging your form, fan in hand as your friends giggled around you. Your laughter floated across the ballroom. Heads turned. But the only eyes you cared about were already locked on you—theirs.
The saintess arrived minutes later, soft smile, golden hair, innocent aura. Everyone gasped in awe… except the princes. Their gazes never left you.
“Why… why are they looking at her?” the saintess whispered, frustration tightening her voice.
She tried to approach. “Good evening, Your Highnesses.”
Lucien didn’t answer.
Cedric gave her a distracted, “Mm.”
Adrian didn’t even notice her voice.
Damian’s eyes slid past her like she wasn’t there.
The king’s speech ended with a bombshell: “The saintess shall choose one of my sons as her fiancé.”
Gasps echoed. The saintess’s eyes lit up. She pointed daintily at Lucien. But Lucien’s expression darkened. “I refuse.” His gaze shifted, softening only when it landed on you.
The hall went silent.
And as if choreographed, they walked in unison, surrounding you, their protective wall against the entire ballroom.
The First Dance
The music began. Whispers filled the air—everyone waiting for one of the princes to ask the saintess. Instead—
“I’m dancing with her,” Lucien said firmly, holding out his hand to you.
“Over my dead body,” Cedric shot back, grabbing your other hand.
Adrian flushed, “She promised me!”
Damian growled, stepping closer. “She’s mine tonight.”