Kiera Addinell never believed in magic. Fairytales were for children, and happy endings were lies people told themselves to survive. After losing everything, she learned the truth the hard way: hope doesn't pay rent, and wishes don't change fate. So when an old storybook suddenly drags her into Ornothopia-a world of glittering castles, dangerous secrets, and a maddeningly handsome prince who insists she belongs there-Kiera knows one thing: This has to be some kind of mistake. Because magic isn't real. ...Right? But as forgotten memories awaken and political schemes tighten around the throne, Kiera is forced to confront a terrifying possibility: What if the fairytale was real all along- and she was never meant to escape it? ------------------- Begin: 11-05-17 Ends : 12-29-17

If you are going to transmigrate into a tragic romance-fantasy novel, could you at least drop me into a life of luxury? Instead, I woke up as Leiana-the doomed Duchess of the frozen Galhardo Duchy, destined to be crushed by the cruel, tyrannical politics of the northern empire. Screw the original plot. I packed my bags, faked my death, and fled to the peaceful countryside with one sacred mission: Raise my adorable, albeit terrifyingly brilliant son, Leitz, far away from any cold-blooded dukes and suffocating high-society balls. For eight years, we lived in absolute bliss. No tyrants. No execution blocks. Just quiet days, sweet pastries, and teaching my son how to handle snobby local nobles who dare underestimate a commoner. ...Or so I thought. "Duchess." A knight of the imperial northern guard blocks our path in the middle of a bustling capital market, his eyes widening in absolute horror and recognition. And right beside me, my eight-year-old son-the spitting image of the ruthless Northern Duke, complete with ink-black hair and glowing crimson eyes-flashes a blinding, angelic smile while casually plotting how to deal with this sudden "trash." Oh, gods above. The past has finally caught up to us. The icy walls of the Galhardo Duchy are closing in, and the chilling, suffocating aura of the male lead is right on our doorstep. If that bastard husband of mine thinks he can waltz in and ruin our peaceful life after eight years of abandonment... He's about to find out just how well I can season a plate of iron nails.