The Villainous Princess Wants to Live in a Gingerbread House - Chapter 2

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Villainess Imperial Princess Wants to Live in a Bakery
Chapter 2

She had learned six days ago that she had blood relatives beyond her parents. It was when they’d half-kidnapped her from the cottage and bundled her into a carriage bound for the Imperial Palace.
It was four days ago that she learned the grandfather among these relatives was the Imperial Emperor himself—that very Emperor her father had cursed so vehemently that he wouldn’t even spit in his direction, calling him a “madman and worthless scoundrel.”
Three days ago, she learned that the Emperor had driven all his sons out of the palace as if exiling them, and had appointed Alexei, the only son of the eldest and thus his own eldest grandson, as Crown Prince, keeping only him at his side.
Two days ago, she discovered that this very Alexei had, some ten years prior at the age of five, formed a contract with Papnir, the Spirit King of Fire, in a Spirit Ceremony just like today’s, and thus became Crown Prince.
And it was only this very morning that she learned her cousins had all undergone rigorous training for some ten years of their lives in order to form contracts with respectable Spirits at this very ceremony.
This very morning when the Spirit Ceremony was taking place!
‘This is all a lie, isn’t it?’
And in that moment, Asha realized that all of this resembled something she had seen in some previous life—something from far more than ten years ago.
A story whose name she could no longer recall, uncertain whether it had been a film or a novel or a comic. But the way past and future events came flooding back in such vivid detail could only be explained by one thing: she had reincarnated into an original work. Asha had seen a few stories about people “transported into novels” before, after all.
Though watching those stories had never made her think she’d become the protagonist of one herself.
‘I can’t even remember whether it was a movie or a novel, what the title was, and yet I remember the plot? That’s almost miraculous!’
Asha choked back a sob that threatened to burst from her throat.
‘You called me Asha. All these ten years you called me Asha. And you never once told me my real name was Anastasia, Mother, Father!’
That Imperial Granddaughter Anastasia who had lived as a poor commoner until she turned ten, tasted sweetness in life just once, and then careened straight into a highway of frustration and ruin—that was me, and you never even told me!
‘What do I do? How do I handle this? How am I supposed to—’
What she had wanted in her past life and in this one was only ever one thing: to bake pastries.
In her past life, there had been no time. Every coin she earned went straight to supporting her family, including her younger siblings. The money she had carefully saved to finally open a shop was squandered on her irresponsible brother’s gaming expenses.
After days of desperately working overnight to make up for it, she had dozed off from exhaustion, and when she finally opened her eyes again, she found herself lying in a creaky, worn baby crib.
Her hands were as small as a newborn animal’s, and she could barely see anything clearly. For a week she thought the hazy landscape around her was all a dream, and it took another week before she could accept the reality.
I’ve been reborn!
During those days in the baby crib, she came to terms with the fact that she had truly died and would have to make a new start.
What mattered was that her desire had not been worn away during death and rebirth—it remained intact. As she grew accustomed to the crib, Asha cherished her dream anew.
Wherever this was, in this new world, she would now do what she wished. She could finally do it. Asha was dizzy with excitement.
Yet that dream had not been realized even now, at ten years old. She had never even seen butter or sugar in all that time.
Because the household was desperately, wretchedly poor!
Still, back then she had simply accepted it as fact. So until the moment the Imperial Household’s attendants had essentially kidnapped her and dragged her to this Spirit Ceremony, she had believed she was simply reborn into a household with a strange history—one that happened to be devastatingly poor.
‘Now I understand why we were poor. If I’m that Imperial Granddaughter Anastasia, then our father is Imperial Prince Yurie. He literally ran out of the palace on his own two feet and couldn’t bring a single coin with him.’
Everyone in the Empire forms a bond with a Spirit around the age of ten. Spirits were as varied as the empire’s population, but even commoners who rarely obtained a Spirit with great power could find their prospects transformed. For this reason, children of this age lived in a state of constant tension and anticipation.
However, even among the nobility, landing a useless Spirit could close the door to advancement, and in the Imperial Family this polarity was absolute.
Contract with the greatest Spirit and you would become the next Emperor; otherwise you’d be cast out of the palace. Thus, the only ones remaining in the palace were the current Emperor who had contracted with the Spirit King of Wind and Crown Prince Alexei who had contracted with the Spirit King of Fire.
The exiled Imperial Family had only one path back: for their children to form contracts with respectable Spirits in today’s ceremony and win the Emperor’s favor.
Asha glanced at a boy among her cousins who looked particularly fragile and small of frame. Among them were those who, unable to bear their parents’ pressure, had made extreme choices.
‘No, no, no. Asha, think clearly. That kind of thing wouldn’t happen. It won’t. It won’t! It won’t!’
Asha desperately denied her dark premonition and turned her thoughts over. The content she remembered was as follows:
An ordinary girl with the power of life and stability meets Crown Prince Alexei, who possesses unstable but tremendous fire power, and falls in love with him.
Naturally, countless obstacles stand between them, and they overcome them with strength, but the most formidable obstacle among them is Crown Prince Alexei’s cousin, the Imperial Princess Anastasia.
Having obtained a rare Spirit in this very ceremony and remained in the palace, Anastasia the Imperial Granddaughter repeatedly thwarts Alexei and the heroine at every turn. With both the imperial succession and a magnificent Spirit in her grasp, she has nothing to fear.
But that Spirit proves weaker than Alexei’s after all, and ultimately Imperial Granddaughter Anastasia meets a tragic end of her own making.
‘But I’m not that Anastasia, am I? I’m a different person. So it can’t happen that way. And besides, it’s possible what I remember isn’t even that story at all…’
Just then, the sound of a staff striking the floor rang out through the hall with a thud, breaking through Asha’s thoughts. At the same moment, two figures entered the hall.
“Emperor Mikhail and Crown Prince Alexei have arrived!”
The chamberlain’s voice rang out loud and clear.
The moment she saw those two, Asha turned her head away and swallowed her tears.
‘It’s right… it’s right…’
The Emperor and Crown Prince had arrived.
The Emperor, despite his lined face and luxuriant beard, was a man of towering, robust frame, as if casting a shadow over the entire hall.
The boy standing beside him, who appeared to be about fifteen, looked down at the children in the center of the hall with a soft smile that belied his age. His golden hair shimmered like particles of starlight, and his eyes were as clear and brilliant as the purest ice.
The instant Asha saw those two, she recognized them as her grandfather Emperor Mikhail and her cousin Crown Prince Alexei. And at that same moment, she wondered if the original work she’d seen might have been a film rather than a novel. The scene itself felt familiar, as though she had witnessed it on screen.
‘It’s right! It’s right, it’s right, it’s the story I saw! But wait—how did the original heroine even think she could fight alongside that Alexei? Just standing here, I can feel the cold radiating from him.’
Does a mouth smiling mean a person is actually smiling? Alexei’s eyes aren’t moving at all.
‘No, wait. That’s possible. Think about it—if someone lived for ten years eating nothing but thin gruel and potato soup, then suddenly learned they were an Imperial Granddaughter, they might entertain a few silly daydreams.’
Especially if they managed to stay in the palace after all…
‘No! No, no, the real question isn’t that—it’s what I’m supposed to do from here on out…’
In that instant, the Emperor cried out.
“Conduct the Spirit Ceremony!”

* * *

From above, one could see that everything to the south, along an exact horizontal line, had melted away into ash and charred ruin.
And just beyond that line, even the snow that had fallen the day before remained frozen, untouched. Before that line stood a figure poised between boyhood and young manhood, surveying the surroundings from horseback.
Black hair whipped in the frigid northern wind—so dark it bore a faint blue sheen. Beneath it, violet eyes reflected the very bite of the Snowy Plain’s frozen light.
The war that had raged in this land of eternal winter—where even the sound of the wind had fallen silent—had finally ended. And the one now riding across this expanse on horseback was the architect of that conclusion.
Kalno Neiushtettetr, who had set out at fourteen and brought it all to an end in his fifteenth year.
“Deputy Commander, all preparations for the return are complete.”
A knight rode forward and spoke quietly. He was perhaps ten years Kalno’s senior, yet his deference was almost excessive.
When Kalno glanced sideways, the knight stilled his breath. As Kalno opened one hand, the knight’s body tensed visibly. Kalno let out a soft laugh and seized the reins with that same hand.
Ever since he had taken the Spirit’s hand—the Spirit dressed in blackened robes—and everything his touch reached had turned to ash, people had always gazed upon him with eyes full of dread.
“Let’s return.”
“Yes, sir!”
The knight, now trembling from the cold, followed in Kalno’s wake. Kalno did not look back.

* * *

“…Demir has received the blessing of the Candlelight Spirit!”
‘A blessing, they say, but hardly anyone seems thrilled about it.’
Asha’s lip curled at her own disappointment. True to her observation, the Emperor’s expression as he looked down upon the Imperial Grandchildren remained glacial.
It was no different after the Candlelight Spirit either. The Candlelight Spirit, the Yurie Spirit, the Flower Spirit, the Rain Spirit—all had appeared, yet genuine joy had never once crossed any of her cousins’ faces.
“Asha, Imperial Granddaughter.”
Now it was her turn.
Asha gauged the attention of those around her before opening the door. The chamber floor was filled with water flowing in from a hidden spring, and as she stepped forward, the cold seeped into her feet and a chill crawled up her spine.
“Ah—”
The water was so cold it raised goosebumps across her skin. Asha shut the door behind her and, following what she had heard, gingerly lowered herself onto her knees and sat in the pool slowly.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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