Chapter 1
I am a princess, and my father, the Emperor, is forcing me to choose a husband from the royal heirs of the neighboring kingdoms.
Suddenly, a stream of text flickered into existence before my eyes.
[Don’t pick the Lyrian Prince! He’s behind the rockery in the Imperial Garden with your cousin… getting it on!]
[The Obsidian Prince is even worse! He literally *can’t perform*!]
09.02
I pondered for a moment, unable to resist asking the strange text aloud, “When I use the royal latrine, can you see that too?”
The stream of text went silent, then erupted with countless messages of “Holy shit!”
I leaned against the chaise lounge, a smirk playing on my lips. “Enough chatter. Tell me this… of all the royal heirs, who has the most touchable
abs?”
1
Tomorrow is my father’s birthday gala.
Diplomatic corps from every kingdom have gathered in the capital of Emberfall to offer their congratulations. Emberfall once stood as an equ- al to the great kingdoms of Obsidian, Lyria, and the Azure Empire, a formidable power in its own right.
But now… now my father indulges in decadence while the court rots from within. The Kingdom of Emberfall is crumbling.
To maintain a facade of strength, my father has resorted to a political marriage.
I am, they say, a beauty of unparalleled renown. Offers of marriage have been flooding the palace for years. My father tossed a pile of these proposals onto my lap, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Seraphina, choose one of them. Consider it your birthday gift to me.”
Realistically, there were only two viable options: the crown princes of the Obsidian and Lyrian Kingdoms. The other states were too weak to
offer Emberfall any meaningful protection.
The problem was, I hadn’t the faintest idea what either of these men even looked like.
As I fretted, more of the strange text–the “live comments,” I was beginning to understand–scrolled past my eyes.
[Front row seat for the drama! Hey Princess!]
[Came over to the Princess’s channel specifically for the tragedy arc. Not many people here.]
[Don’t pick the Lyrian Prince! He’s behind the rockery in the Imperial Garden with your cousin… getting it on!]
[The Obsidian Prince is even worse! He literally *can’t perform*!]
The comments were a chaotic jumble of arguments.
I fought to keep the corner of my mouth from twitching upwards. So, the things I read about in those strange novels were real.
As a child, I loved sneaking into the Royal Archives. I’d once stumbled upon a collection of “transmigration” novels. My favorite was a massive anthology of web–fiction. I could practically recite it from memory. The concepts it described-“live comments,” “live streaming,” “systems“… all those bizarre, fantastical words were actually real?
A thrill shot through me.
Forcing a calm expression, I addressed my father. “This is a matter of great importance. Allow your daughter… a little more time to consider.”
The Emperor waved a dismissive hand, demanding an answer by tomorrow.
1/6
09:02
Chapter 1
Back in my chambers, I impatiently dismissed my attendants.
The live comments were still buzzing.
[The princess’s waist is so tiny and delicate. I wanna touch it.]
[I bet even the princess’s toilet smells like roses.]
I thought for a moment, then couldn’t help but ask, “When I use the royal latrine, can you see that too?”
The comments froze for a few seconds.
