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Chapter 1
Prologue
It All Begins With a Secret Birth.
It was already unfair enough that she had reincarnated into a third-rate novel she had read before dying, but the trashy world of that novel never gave Erne a moment of peace.
She thought she was just a passing extra. No importance, no lines—just a fleeting cameo.
“You’re off to sell herbs again today? Erne, you’re always so diligent.”
Hans, a long-time villager, greeted her while setting out some fresh fruit.
“I need to earn enough to cure my grandmother’s illness.”
“Oh my, what a sweet-hearted girl,”
His wife, Margaret, stepped out beside him and covered her mouth, touched.
In this village, Erne was known as the devoted granddaughter who tirelessly cared for her ailing grandmother.
Whenever she passed through the town market, she was met with sympathy, pity, and warm encouragement—something Erne didn’t mind at all.
“Ah, the peaceful life of an extra!”
Other reincarnators met the main characters, got caught up in events, and were swept into romances. But that was a distant dream for Erne.
The two main characters met in the royal palace of Neshard, and a humble herbalist like her had no way of entering the palace.
“I’d be turned away at the gate. There’s no way a commoner like me could get in.”
Was she upset because she couldn’t interfere with the original story? Not at all.
“Absolutely not! That garbage story—ugh…”
Only those who’d read it knew how damaging it was to one’s mental health.
Was it a tragedy? Hmm, not quite.
Anyway, Erne had the small advantage of being a reincarnator who roughly knew how the now-real story would unfold.
That’s why she was so determined when she scrimped and saved every coin she made from selling herbs.
Partly for her grandmother’s health—but the real reason was…
“I’m moving to another country!”
Her true goal was to immigrate to a duchy and settle there.
“The hidden villain will show up and ruin Neshard to win over the heroine. Before that happens, I’m getting out of here with Grandma.”
In moments like this, the reincarnator’s buff came in handy.
“Let’s see… These roots are in good condition today. I can give you a high price for them!”
“Really? Wow, thank you!”
Arriving at the apothecary with those thoughts in mind, Erne couldn’t hide her pleased smile at the better-than-usual payout.
There were still three years left before the original heroine and hero’s story began.
Her best plan was to save money diligently and escape before they started wreaking havoc.
“That was the plan…”
She should’ve just run away sooner.
＊＊＊
Her steps were light as she walked home with hands full and a full purse after selling herbs.
She hurried along to cook a warm meal for her hungry grandmother.
But when she arrived, knights were surrounding her home.
“The royal crest?”
Her heart pounded like a drum.
A guest from the royal palace had come to her shabby cottage.
“Did something happen to Grandma?!”
Worry and dread filled her chest. She didn’t even notice the fresh broccoli falling from her basket as she sprinted forward. Her grandmother was frail and barely mobile.
If the armored knights had harmed her—
Erne felt rage bubbling up.
“Grandma!”
“……”
She should’ve known then. The moment the knights let her pass without stopping her.
So consumed by concern for her grandmother, Erne didn’t notice that odd detail—and it was something she would regret for the rest of her life.
If only she had realized who the guest inside that tiny house was, she would’ve run far, far away.
When she threw open the door, a breathtakingly beautiful woman sitting beside her sick grandmother turned to look at her.
“Oh, is this the child?”
The woman stared at Erne with a curious glint as she rushed in and checked her grandmother for injuries.
Her gaze followed Erne’s every move.
Once she confirmed her grandmother was unharmed, Erne turned around, ready to yell at the rude intruders—only to freeze.
“No way…”
Please, let this gut feeling be wrong.
When Erne met the stunning beauty’s eyes head-on, she had to suck in a sharp breath.
The woman with lemon-yellow curls pinned high on her head lifted her veil.
It was a face Erne had seen only once, from afar, during a royal parade.
“Judging by your expression… Oh, you’ve realized already?”
A faint chuckle left the woman’s lips.
Knights holding flags with the royal crest. The face she had glimpsed during the royal procession.
A cape emblazoned with the royal family’s insignia…
“…Her Majesty the Queen of Neshard?!”
Why on earth was the Queen in this shabby, countryside hovel?
Erne barely swallowed her scream.
Seeing the Queen of Neshard up close, there was only one thought in Erne’s mind:
“She looks just like me!”
Painfully so!
Her suspicions deepened.
Lemon-yellow curls, golden eyes like sunlight, skin like porcelain…
As all the similarities clicked into place, the peaceful, uneventful life of a mere extra slipped further and further away.
“Erne Nophia.”
“……”
“The truth is—I am your mother.”
It was the kind of line that demanded a dramatic soundtrack.
The Queen’s reveal that she was Erne’s mother marked just the beginning of the “secret birth” storyline.
She should’ve just run when she had the chance. A flashing warning light had now switched on in Erne’s life, a sign that nothing would be easy from now on.
＊＊＊
Erne Büssel Neshard.
Her uneventful life as a background character—someone with no lines, no story, no importance—shattered the moment the Queen declared herself Erne’s mother.
Dun dun! Dun-dun-dun! A familiar dramatic soundtrack echoed in her ears.
When she managed to push the dramatic music away from her mind, only one thing came to her.
[The news that the Queen had finally found the long-lost daughter she’d been yearning for spread across all of Neshard. No citizen was unaware.
Belly crumpled the newspaper and scowled. Every paper sided with the palace.
‘No. The Queen may have found her daughter—but she neither yearned for her nor tried hard to find her.’]
That was Erne’s one measly mention in the original heroine Belly’s narrative.
“Damn it. I went from a nobody extra with no lines to a one-line-mentioned extra!”
It was devastating. Erne sighed deeply, lost in thought.
Would her dream of a peaceful retirement fade forever?
Would she still be able to immigrate before Neshard fell? Or would it count as asylum, not immigration, now that she was a princess? Would they even accept her?
Probably better to keep my identity secret…
From the moment the Queen came and reclaimed her, Erne’s immigration plan completely unraveled.
Now restored to her original name, Erne was officially entered into the royal family registry as a princess of Neshard.
They spent a week verifying she was truly the Queen’s daughter—but the moment the confirmation came through, she was instantly declared a princess.
Public sentiment, shaped by the royal narrative, swiftly turned in her favor.
According to the official story, Erne had been kidnapped as a baby, presumed dead, and had never once known her real parents—struggling her whole life without love or comfort.
“Well, that’s technically not wrong… hmm.”
Whether it was true or not didn’t matter to the public.
And yes, the newspapers bolstering this tragic narrative certainly helped.
No wonder Belly had crumpled the paper in anger.
Every outlet printed the same flattering royal propaganda.
“Well, judging by the gold and jewels pouring in, I guess public sympathy has its perks.”
She smiled as she admired the extravagant offerings nobles brought to curry favor.
Fine. If this was her fate, she’d live out her days in luxury. A gold spoon life? Yes, please!
Her head throbbed at the cliché birth secret, but Erne firmly believed the best cure in the world was financial therapy.
Cuddling a gold bar against her cheek, Erne grinned at the 101 joys that came with wealth.
“This is what healing feels like!”
Buried in treasures and rare gifts, she waved her arms with glee.
“Princess!”
“Hm?”
From afar, a frantic voice called her name.
I’m over here! she waved, revealing her position in the mountain of gifts. But the approaching attendant, Rezen, twisted her face in a strange expression.
“Princess…”
“What’s wrong?”
Was she going to scold her again for lacking royal dignity?
Ugh. She scratched her cheek and glanced at Rezen, noticing the tension in her eyes.
With a sigh, Rezen delivered her message as calmly as she could.
“I have three pieces of news for you, Princess.”
“Let me guess—another gift delivery?”
Erne sat up, finally interested. But Rezen firmly shook her head.
“Her Majesty the Queen has summoned Lady Blancer, your close friend and companion, to the palace.”
“…”
“That was the first. The second—Her Majesty has arranged your engagement.”
She tilted her head at the first part, but at the second, she practically foamed at the mouth.
“Engagement?! I didn’t hear anything about that—!”
“As a princess, you should expect arranged marriages. At least it’s not a political union with another kingdom. Consider yourself lucky.”
Lucky?! They arranged her marriage without even telling her, and she’s supposed to be grateful it’s not international diplomacy?
Erne let out a hollow laugh and stomped around in outrage.
She needed to confront the Queen—immediately.
But before she could storm off, Rezen blocked her path with a blank face.
“The last piece of news, Princess.”
“…Yes?”
“Madam Nophia has just passed away.”
Madam Nophia—who’d raised her as a beloved granddaughter without knowing the truth.
Grandma Marshal, who had fed, clothed, sheltered, and loved her.
Gone.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
That day, Erne gained a mother who gave birth to her—but lost the woman who had truly raised her as her own.
