Immediately after the carriage returned her to the mansion, Amaris led her to her new room. She declined the offer to change out of her bloodstained dress and instead sank onto the edge of the queen-sized bed.
The maidservants took it as her way of grieving her father's painful demise and didn't bother her. But really, it was just her and her thoughts.
Realization dawned on her.
This wasn't a dream.
Neither was it an act.
This was real.
She had just witnessed the Fifth Empyrean King get murdered by Grant Castiglione — and it wasn't a drill.
His blood had splattered on her. His headless body had fallen at her feet.
The novel had begun right before Grant Castiglione murdered her father. Which meant… she was in Episode One.
What happens after?
She thought deeper, digging for any memory of Grant Castiglione's fiancée and her fate. But there was none. The author never mentioned Grant being engaged, let alone married. And even if she had, it must have been brief.
So, what now? Was she to take on the role of an invisible character who didn't even get screen time?
She collapsed back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
If there was no record of Grant Castiglione's fiancée, did that mean their engagement was called off or—
She jerked upright.
What if he killed her?
There was a possibility. He had killed her father over some ridiculous deal—what would stop him from killing her too?
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in," she drawled, her voice weak and drained.
Liora stepped in, now dressed in a simple lilac tunic gown. "My Lady," she began, bowing slightly. "I apologize for the interruption, but you have a duty to perform tomorrow."
Daphne frowned. "What duty?"
Liora hesitated, clearing her throat. "You… you need to go to Grant Castiglione's mansion and deliver the invitation for the late King's funeral."
Her frown deepened. "Make me understand."
"It is policy," Liora replied carefully.
"Yes, exactly—and I need to understand it better."
"Grant Castiglione is the Governor of the Five Empyrean Cities."
"I'm aware."
"He holds the highest position in the Five Empyrean Cities, and it's customary for a family member to personally deliver the funeral invitation to him."
"So what sort of stupid policy is that? Didn't he kill my father?"
Liora lowered her gaze. "Y-yes."
"Then why do I have to invite him to his victim's funeral? Shouldn't he be wanted for murder or something?"
"I'm afraid that's not how it works, My Lady."
"Because he is your husband-to-be," a sharp voice cut in.
A woman dressed in a teal ball gown stepped into the room through the slightly open door. She walked up to them and gestured for Liora to leave. Liora bowed quickly and exited.
The woman had striking silver eyes and her hair was styled in a neat French bun.
Who is this again? Daphne wondered, failing to recall the face.
"Whether he killed your father or not, you are still to invite him out of respect for the man you're set to wed."
Her tone was cold and commanding, and Daphne immediately sensed they weren't on good terms. Maybe her stepmother?
"Also," the woman continued, "you'll take a gift along with you to deliver on my behalf."
A gift? After he murdered her husband?
The woman's eyes swept over Daphne. "Go to bed early. You are leaving for the Governor's mansion at dawn. He departs for a meeting in Astrelle by noon, and he must receive the invitation before then."
Daphne only managed a small nod as the woman turned and left gracefully.
Just great, she thought bitterly. She had witnessed her father's murder, and now she had to face her greatest enemy, Grant Castiglione himself.
That night, she had a ridiculous dream. After the maids cleaned her up and put her to bed, she dreamed she'd escaped the webtoon world and returned to reality—only to be followed by Grant Castiglione. He chased her through the streets, past honking cars, until he caught her and claimed her head.
She jolted awake, gasping and sweating, her hand instinctively flying to her neck to confirm it was still attached.
Morning came, and her maids arrived to dress her.
Her gown was lavish, floor-length in shades of blush pink and cream-white. It had an off-shoulder neckline adorned with lace and floral details, possibly roses. The skirt was full, layered with ruffles, pleats, and large bows decorating its length.
The dresses looked exactly as they did in the novel, absolutely glamorous.
But glamour aside, she was being sent to meet Grant Castiglione.
As the carriage rolled toward his mansion, Daphne silently hoped she would wake up from this nightmare. Yet, part of her was curious to see if he truly was as terrifying as the author described or if it was just an exaggeration.
When they arrived, the carriage driver helped her down. She froze, breath catching at the sight of the infamous mansion.
It was even grander than she had imagined.
A towering, dark-colored estate with an ornate, multi-tiered roofline. The exterior gleamed under the morning light, exuding power and menace. A wide circular driveway wound through manicured gardens, leading to a marble staircase and massive double doors. The estate was surrounded by lush greenery, tall trees, and a black-and-gold wrought-iron fence that screamed wealth—and warning.
Two maids stood by the entrance, dressed in dark green and white uniforms.
"His Lordship awaits you," they said in unison, bowing as they opened the doors.
She hesitated before stepping inside, greeted by a magnificent golden chandelier hanging low in the grand waiting room. She recognized it, it looked exactly as the novel had described. A black four-seater couch, two single chairs, and a glass center table completed the elegant space.
A sweeping S-shaped staircase led to the second floor.
"I can wait here," Daphne offered weakly.
"He is receiving visitors in his study today, My Lady," one maid replied softly.
Daphne frowned but nodded, allowing them to guide her upstairs.
Her stomach twisted with each step. She was about to meet Grant Castiglione, the man whose name alone sent shivers down spines.
When they reached the second floor, one of the maids knocked on the heavy double doors.
"Come in," a deep voice commanded from within.
Her heart hammered in her chest.
The doors opened, and Daphne stepped inside, bowing gently as they closed behind her.
"Who are you?"
His husky voice was the first thing that hit her.
She raised her head slowly and there he was.
Grant Castiglione.
The devil she had always hated through the screens and pages of her favorite novel.