Who Made me a Princess

When I first regained consciousness, I found myself transformed into royalty—a princess in a world straight out of a storybook. Yet this fairytale twist came with a dark edge: the character I’d become was destined to perish by the hand of her own father. Why, of all possible roles, did I have to inherit this tragic heroine’s fate? The novel’s plot loomed over me like a shadow, its grim prophecy inescapable. My new life as a royal seemed cursed from the start, bound by the cruel threads of a narrative I never chose. The luxury of palace life meant nothing when every glance from the king carried the weight of impending doom. How could a parent harbor such hatred for their own child? I desperately searched for a way to rewrite my destiny, to escape the story’s predetermined ending. The gilded cages of the palace felt more like a prison with each passing day. Survival meant outsmarting the very tale that created me—but could I change what was already written? The clock ticked relentlessly toward my character’s tragic finale.