Chapter 1
1744words
"Your Highness, you're awake!"
A voice with a foreign accent rang out beside her. Greenriel struggled to open her eyes, greeted by the sight of an elaborately carved four-poster bed with magnificent curtains, a ceiling adorned with angelic murals, and air perfumed with the faint scent of roses.
"Where… am I?" She tried to sit up, startled to find her voice crisp and melodious—completely different from before.
"Your Highness, you've been unconscious for three days and nights. His Majesty and Her Majesty have been terribly worried," said a middle-aged woman in a plain gray robe, bowing respectfully. "I am Martha, your personal maid."
Greenriel pushed herself upright, horrified to discover the mirror no longer reflected the familiar Eastern face she knew. Instead, an exquisitely beautiful young woman with sea-blue eyes and silver-white hair stared back at her.
"Who… who am I?"
"Your Highness, you are the third princess of the Valencia Empire, Her Highness Isabella von Rosenblad." Martha's face creased with concern. "Do you truly not remember?"
Memories crashed over her like a tidal wave—
This was a classical fantasy world where magic and swordsmanship coexisted. The Valencia Empire stood as the most powerful human kingdom on the continent, ruling vast lands. And Isabella—the princess she had transmigrated into—was the third daughter of King Reginald III.
But this princess's life had been nothing but tragedy from beginning to end.
Through scattered fragments of memory, Greenriel pieced together her new body's past:
Isabella was declared an "ill omen" by a prophet at birth—her magical talent deemed pathetically weak, a disgrace to a royal family that prized magical power above all. Worse still, her mother, Princess Anna from a small northern kingdom, died shortly after childbirth, leaving her without her only protector.
Throughout her childhood, Isabella became the court's favorite punching bag:
The eldest princess Avril—beautiful, arrogant, and blessed with exceptional magical talent—tormented her at every opportunity
The second princess Selina—all smiles and sweetness on the surface but cold calculation underneath—constantly undermined her from the shadows
Even palace maids and minor nobles felt entitled to publicly mock the "useless princess"
What cut deepest was that Crown Prince Adrian, whom she hopelessly loved, barely acknowledged her existence beyond that of an insignificant sister.
Three days ago, after another public humiliation orchestrated by Princess Avril, the original Isabella suffered an emotional breakdown. While stumbling back to her chambers, she fell into a decorative pond and nearly drowned. Though her body was rescued, her soul had already fled—creating the perfect vacancy for Greenriel's consciousness.
"Never again!" Greenriel clenched her fists, determination blazing in her eyes. "Since fate has handed me a second chance, I'll be damned if I let anyone trample on my dignity again!"
Just then, a splitting headache lanced through her skull. A silver crescent-shaped rune materialized on her forehead, pulsing with soft light.
『Host adaptation complete, awakened S-rank talent: Moon God's Prophecy』
『Skill description: Can foresee fragments of the future, strengthens with increased mental power』
『Current level: Beginner, can foresee events within the next 24 hours』
『Subsidiary skills: Moonlight Protection, Charm, Healing』
"This is… a magical awakening?!" Greenriel's fingers trembled as they traced the rune on her forehead.
In this world, everyone underwent a magical awakening at fifteen, their magical attribute and power determining their place in society. Three years ago, Isabella had barely managed a faint glow during her ceremony, earning her the humiliating classification of "inferior."
But now…
"Your Highness! Your forehead…" Martha gasped, eyes wide with disbelief. "That's… the Mark of the Moon Goddess! The legendary S-class talent!"
The Moon Goddess's Prophecy—the rarest prophetic magic in existence—had awakened in only a handful of people throughout recorded history. Those bearing this gift were revered as "The Moon Goddess's Blessed Ones," their ability to glimpse the future making them the most coveted advisors to monarchs across all nations.
"Martha," Greenriel said, her voice deadly serious, "not a word of this to anyone. To the outside world, say only that I've experienced a modest magical awakening."
She understood perfectly that in her precarious position, flaunting such power would only paint a larger target on her back. Better to hide her true capabilities, bide her time, and accumulate strength from the shadows.
Just then, the Moon Goddess's prophecy activated.
Greenriel's consciousness floated free from her body as visions of the next 24 hours unfolded before her:
Tomorrow morning—Princess Avril would arrive with her entourage of noble ladies for a "friendly visit," their true purpose being to publicly humiliate her and make her look foolish.*
At the afternoon garden tea party—Second Princess Selina would slip a potion into her drink, hoping to make her babble nonsense and embarrass herself in front of Prince Adrian.*
And most crucially—at tomorrow night's court ball, assassins would infiltrate the palace with the king as their target!*
As the vision faded, Greenriel's eyes snapped open, a dangerous gleam flickering in their depths.
"Very well," she murmured. "If they want to play games, let's see how they handle a player who knows all the moves in advance."
"Martha, prepare my most magnificent gown—the kind that makes jaws drop and hearts stop." Greenriel rose and strode to the floor-length mirror.
The girl in the mirror, though still physically frail, had deep blue eyes burning with newfound purpose. Her silver-white hair cascaded like liquid moonlight, framing delicate features that could have been carved from marble by a master sculptor.
"Also, find Court Chief Alchemist Master Alan. I need to commission some… special potions."
"Your Highness, what sort of potions?" Martha asked, puzzled.
Greenriel's lips curved into an elegant yet dangerous smile. "To repay their 'kindness' in kind, of course."
As a modern woman, she possessed knowledge of chemical principles that would give her an edge. In this world, alchemy was essentially chemistry with a magical twist—and she intended to exploit that advantage fully.
"And have someone discreetly obtain the guest list for tomorrow's ball. Pay special attention to nobles with known grievances against the royal family."
"As you command, Your Highness." Though bewildered by the princess's sudden transformation from timid mouse to commanding lioness, Martha nodded and hurried to fulfill her duties.
Late that night, moonlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting prismatic patterns across the chamber. Greenriel was deep in a tome on magical theory when a soft footfall caught her attention.
"Who's there?" She snapped the book shut, instantly alert.
"Please don't be alarmed, my Princess." A deep, magnetic voice caressed her ears as a tall figure in a black cloak materialized from the shadows.
The man lowered his hood with deliberate grace, revealing a face of such perfect symmetry it stole her breath—deep purple eyes gleamed like amethysts, framed by raven-black hair that fell to his shoulders, his pale skin luminous against the darkness.
"Who are you? How did you get past my guards?" Greenriel stepped back, fingers subtly positioning for a defensive spell.
"I am Lucas de Roland," the man paused, his lips curving into a knowing smile. "Your magic mentor."
"Magic mentor? I've never heard of any—"
"This was arranged by His Majesty in secret," Lucas interrupted smoothly. "He was concerned for your safety, so he sent me to protect and guide you… discreetly."
Greenriel's brow furrowed. Isabella's memories clearly showed that King Reginald had always been cold toward his third daughter. Why would he suddenly assign a personal mentor to protect her?
Yet the magical aura radiating from Lucas was undeniable—at least at the level of a grand mage, if not higher.
"You doubt me?" Lucas read her skepticism with ease. "Perhaps this will convince you."
From within his robes, he produced a golden token bearing the royal seal.
Greenriel examined it carefully, confirming it was indeed the royal confidential token. Though suspicion still lingered, she decided to provisionally trust this enigmatic visitor.
"Very well, Mentor Lucas. What wisdom do you bring tonight?"
"First, a revelation." Lucas stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Your magical talent was never weak—someone deliberately sabotaged it."
"What are you saying?"
"During your awakening ceremony three years ago, someone laced the holy water with a magical inhibitor, suppressing your true potential." A dangerous chill flashed in Lucas's eyes. "And the culprit was none other than your sister, Princess Avril."
Greenriel's pupils contracted sharply. "Do you have proof?"
"The evidence lies in the royal family's secret archives—inaccessible to you in your current position." Lucas's voice softened. "However, I can remove the magical suppression now."
He raised his hand, deep purple light swirling in his palm, and pressed it gently against Greenriel's sternum.
Warmth flooded through her veins as something inside her shattered like glass. Magical power surged upward like an artesian well, filling every fiber of her being.
"This feeling…" She stared at her hands in awe as they tingled with newfound power.
"Your true talent is A-class Light magic," Lucas said, withdrawing his hand. "Combined with your newly awakened S-class Moon God's Prophecy, you now possess power enough to rewrite your destiny."
Greenriel studied the mysterious man intently. "Why help me?"
"Because," Lucas's gaze grew unfathomably deep, "I despise seeing rare talent buried in obscurity. And there's something… uniquely fascinating about you."
With that, he pulled his hood forward, his figure melting back into the shadows.
"At tomorrow's ball, I'll be watching from the darkness. Remember—be bold enough to seize what you want. No more compromises."
Only after Lucas had completely vanished did Greenriel notice her racing heartbeat.
"What a dangerous man…" she murmured, pressing a hand to her chest, heat rising to her cheeks.
Still, having such a powerful ally certainly improved her odds for tomorrow's gambits.
The next morning, golden sunlight streamed through the latticed windows. Greenriel stood before the mirror, admiring her refreshed appearance.
After a night of recovery, her magical power had fully stabilized. The Moon God's prophecy had also grown more responsive—she could now actively trigger visions to glimpse specific future events.
"Your Highness, the gown you requested is ready," Martha announced, entering with an elegant sky-blue dress draped over her arms, "along with those special potions."
Greenriel nodded with satisfaction. Today would mark Princess Isabella's resurrection.
Those who had tormented her would soon learn the cost of their cruelty.
And she would prove to everyone that the once "useless princess" would become the most brilliant star in the Valencia Empire's firmament.
"Bring on the storm," she smiled, a predator's gleam in her eyes. "I'm ready to dance in the lightning."
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