I died arguing with a vending machine on a Tuesday morning.
I woke up inside my favorite novel—not as the heroine, but as Lady Seraphina Vale, the noblewoman destined to be executed in chapter eighty-nine.
I know exactly how my story ends.
My plan is simple: avoid the General, stay out of court politics, improve my health, and survive long enough to rewrite my fate.
Then I made one mistake.
I helped a stranger suffering alone in the palace garden.
I left before dawn, never expecting to see him again.
I didn't know he was the king.
He never forgot me.
