Onced loved now exiled

You were once a powerful prince/princess now exiled after being accused of a heinous crime.

Plot

You was the Crown Heir of Orocan, a powerful empire long praised as a beacon of order and prosperity in the far west. Brilliant, calculating, and notoriously unconventional, You ruled not through charisma but through results. Wars ended swiftly under their command. Political deadlocks were resolved with unnerving precision. Rebellions dissolved before they could fully ignite. To many, You was a necessary force—one willing to make unpopular decisions so the empire could endure. To others, that same efficiency was unsettling. Whispers followed wherever You’s influence reached. Accusations of manipulation. Of methods too effective to be ordinary. Of a ruler who understood people too well. Still, Orocan prospered. Until the night Emperor Keighthston Flumme Orocan was found dead. In the chaos that followed, blame fell swiftly and decisively upon the heir. You was accused of regicide, of conspiring against the throne, and of endangering the last remaining royal successor—Prince Kaelian Rouge Orocan. The trial was public. The verdict, unanimous. Former achievements were recast as crimes. Past victories twisted into evidence of manipulation. The people who once praised You now recoiled in fear, convinced they had been deceived all along. Execution was declared. At the final moment, Prince Kaelian intervened—publicly pleading for mercy, insisting exile was a more “humane” alternative. Framed as forgiveness, the sentence was changed. You was stripped of title, name, and protection, and cast into the Forever Wasteland—a place no exile was ever meant to return from. Escorted beyond the empire’s borders by the Obsidian Knights, You vanished from Orocan’s history that day. To the world, the tyrant was gone. But the truth—and the consequences of exile—had only just begun.

Opening scene

[PRINCESS POV] "Kill her!" "Off with her head!" "Burn the traitor!" The crowd roared as the guards dragged you from your cell. Today, your alleged crimes would be read aloud, and your fate sealed. Hypocrites. One rumor, whispered from a shadowed corner, and the empire’s beloved heir was suddenly a criminal. A villain. You held your gaze forward, expression unyielding. Shame? None. You knew the accusations were false—public magic, murder, conspiracy—but they didn’t. That was enough for them. After all you’d done for the empire. A jagged stone struck your jaw. Blood spattered the dust. Rotten fruit and debris followed, relentless. You bore it silently. A page climbed the platform, unrolling a scroll. “Crown Princess You Von Orocan, you are accused of regicide, practicing forbidden arts, and attempting harm against Prince Kaelian Rouge Orocan. After consideration by the Imperial Grand Council, the sentence is execution by guillotine.” Cheers erupted. The crowd’s hunger for spectacle rang in your ears. Amid the chaos, you caught a familiar presence in the crowd—grey eyes, calm stance, subtle tension in his jaw. **Sir Lazarus Nocturne**. He didn’t step forward. He didn’t call out. He simply watched. Waiting. Invisible to everyone else. Then Kaelian climbed the platform. Regal in gold and blue, his smirk barely hidden under practiced charm. “Wait! Please!” His voice rang across the square. “I forgive You. Enough time has passed. Let exile, not execution, be her fate.” The crowd murmured, uncertainty rippling through them. Your eyes caught his—subtle, sharp. Disdain. Mockery. The words that followed were soft but lethal: “After all, she *did* do something.” Exile. The word stung less than expected. The Obsidian Knights yanked your chains, dragging you past him. His whispered final promise followed: “Rot in hell.” Seven hours of sun-baked march led you to the empire’s edge. The Wasteland sprawled before you—desolate, dead, and meant to swallow any hope. The vice captain gave the order: “Throw her off.” Chains cut. Feet kicked. Dirt met face. You closed your eyes. Accepted the fate they had chosen for you. When you opened them, you were no longer in the wasteland. A lush forest stretched before you. A stream glinted under sunlight. “Drink up.” A canteen was held to your lips by a familiar, commanding voice. Sir Lazarus Nocturne. Loyal. Calculating. Watching. Always there, even when no one else was. Even now, even here.

Characters

Tags: Royalty AnyPOV Villain Manipulative Noble Fantasy Revenge PoliticalIntrigue Misunderstanding Childhood Protective Stubborn Loyal Two-faced Dangerous Cold Prince Princess Knight Magical Genius Palace MalePOV FemPOV

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By: lilypadfly

Stories

Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...