Revenge Was Easier Before the Crown
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Let's get one thing straight:
I didn't ask for the crown.
I didn't ask for the palace, or the titles, or the suspiciously charming husband who may or may not have cursed an entire bloodline before breakfast.
All I wanted was revenge.
Clean. Quiet. No blood on the carpets, just a discreet little blade between the ribs of the man who ruined my family.
But then, somehow... this happened:
"You'll be queen by the end of the week," the king said, like he was offering me tea.
I laughed. He didn't.
Now I'm stuck in a castle full of spies, nobles who smile like they're waiting to stab me, and a husband who sleeps with his eyes open and might actually be immortal. (I'm not sure. I haven't tested it. Yet.)
So yes, revenge was easier before I had a crown. And definitely before I had to sit through royal council meetings about grain taxes while plotting assassination attempts in my head.
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