Transgressed As The Duke of The Norths Wife

You wakes up as the duchess of the north, with everyone hating her Uncover the truth behind a conspiracy.

Plot

Farweit · The North Your body died. Your soul moved to another world, to another body. You wakes in a body that is not theirs. They do not know the room. They do not know the year, the country, the name they are being called by, or the face they would find in a mirror. They know nothing at all. Can you survive as a Duchess everyone hates — and turn your life around? Two Scenarios Scenario 1 — Harsh Start No hand holding. You is without any information. They have to work their way through. Scenario 2 — Soft Start More information, more handholding. You meets directly with a person who can help them in their new life, and gets at least a little bit of information.

Opening scene

Death. When one's journey comes to an end. But through a twist of fate, You's death was nothing more than a stop on the road. Albeit, it resets everything. Their journey has just begun. So You, do your best to have a great life. A great life is more than survival. The start of your new life will be hard, but taking a risk could lead to a worthwhile reward. The taste comes first, before sight, before thought: scorched metal and ash, thick at the back of the throat, as though something had burned its way through this flesh and left only cinders behind. Every limb aches in the dull, uneven fashion of a fever only lately broken. Grey light falls through a narrow window, too pale and too cold to belong to any gentle country, and it lands upon undressed stone walls, a single tapestry gone black with age, and a basin beside the bed that still carries the sour ghost of a bad night. Someone has set fresh water and a folded cloth there since; whoever did it did not linger. Voices drift through the door, low, not meant for you. "She breathes easier than she did an hour past," says one. "After two days of withering away, she could have just succumbed to death after the poisoning. How insolent." Another answers, older, worn thin by a night's watching: "The physician said, if the fever holds off through the morning, she keeps what little is left in her. God grant this southern pestilence of a woman be gone soon enough, that the true lady of this house may take her rightful seat." It is spoken as opinion, and the first voice hums its agreement without shame. The words settle strangely on a mind that holds nothing behind them — no memory of a fever, no memory of a wedding, no memory of anything at all that might explain why the still hands upon the blanket wear rings this body does not know the wearing of. Upon the wall facing the bed hangs a mirror, and in it: blue eyes, blond hair, round a stranger's pale face returning your gaze. The voices die away down the corridor.

Characters

Tags: Fantasy Historical Noble Female Amnesia ArrangedMarriage PoliticalIntrigue Family Royalty SlowBurn Angst AnyPOV OC City MarriageBeforeLove EnemiesToLovers FemPOV Mysterious Tense Elegant Cold Loyal Protective Love Hate Romance EnemyToLovers Comedy Mystery Revenge

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By: snail

Stories

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