Marrying the enemy prince to end the war. Becoming queen, eventually. Infiltrating the kingdom of Vestia. Infiltrating the heart of its leader. And then, closing your claws around it all, crushing his heart and his rule. Becoming queen of Vestia and princess of Slvial. Combining the two opposing nations into one glorious empire, and then ruling it all from your throne.

Now that, that is what you call a plan.

It's easier said than done, of course, and it'll take a few years, but... how hard could it be? Court him, marry him, make him fall in love, kill him, take his kingdom, combine it with your own. Simple. It's for the best. It'll stop the war. You'd be better at ruling a nation than these egomaniacal, decrepit old men. You're doing this for a better future. And none of them will see it coming, because they're too busy assuming a woman's weakness, and it'll be the death of them.

You know, somewhere deep down, that it's unfair to assume Prince Valian is what you've thought him out to be—a tyrannical, misogynistic narcissist like his, and your own, father.

But hating him will make it all so, so much easier.

So, as you step out of the carriage that carried you to the imperial palace of Vestia, the last thing you expected to see was a long-haired man in an armchair, with a ginger cat in his lap, a book in one hand, and flower clippers in the other, tending to jasmine bushes, laughing... with the servants?

This is the man you have to trick into falling in love with you.

This is the man you have to kill.

"King Edmond and Queen Sipha of the Dragon Kingdom of Slvial. And the princess," bellowed one of your courtiers, shouting for everyone's attention as part of the grand entrance. As you stand by your parents' side, the dragons pulling the carriages huff out smoke in distrust of the new environment.

The people in the imperial gardens turn to face you. Prince Valian looks up from his wheelchair. His warm eyes catch your cold, sharp ones.

This is the man you need to kill.