[Host, there are two black objects in your truck, which are vibrating.] The system's urgent voice stirred Chloe from her sleep.
The voice was sharp, almost panicked. It cut through the fog of sleep like a blade.
Her eyes snapped open.
How could that be possible?
Those objects had been with her since she was young. She'd tried opening them, even breaking them apart with tools, with power, with sheer spite. They wouldn't budge.
They were always heavy to begin with. That was why she kept them. She'd always traveled with them, searching for ways to open them.
The dimensions were 10m by 15m and 6m by 7m respectively.
She could picture them exactly. The larger one took up half the truck bed. The smaller one sat beside it like a stubborn child refusing to move.
She retracted the box from her space, and with a loud boom, they hit the floor.
The floorboards shuddered. Dust rose in the dim light, catching in her throat. The sound echoed in the empty room, loud enough to wake the dead.
She looked at the wooden box with the black phoenix pattern which looked like burned marks.
The wood was old. Not aged-wood old. Ancient. The phoenix was scorched into it, wings spread like it had died mid-flight. The black wasn't paint.
The two boxes had number ten engraved on it.
The boxes were vibrating too much.
The floor beneath them hummed. The air felt charged, like before a storm. Even the dust seemed to hesitate before settling.
With a loud click, the boxes were opened.
The sound was clean, final. Like a lock deciding it was tired of waiting.
She looked at the larger box. There she saw a cloth-like material.
Folded neatly, layered without a single wrinkle. As if time hadn't touched them.
With curiosity, she took the one in the middle part because of its bright color.
Her fingers hesitated for half a second before touching it. The fabric was warm. Not from the room. From itself.
Unraveling it, she saw that it was a red velvet gown with red phoenix earrings and a phoenix jade pendant.
The gown was heavy, deep red, the color of fresh blood in good light. The velvet was soft enough to make her fingers ache to keep touching it. The phoenix embroidery along the hem shimmered, threads catching the light like real feathers.
The earrings were small, delicate. Phoenixes mid-dive, eyes set with tiny red stones. The pendant was jade, but not the pale green kind. This was blood jade, dark and swirling, with a phoenix carved into its center.
The gown mesmerized her.
For the first time in years, she felt something close to longing. Not for power. Not for revenge. For beauty. For something that was hers and not stolen.
She took another cloth which was men's cloth.
Dark, tailored, sharp at the shoulders. The stitching was invisible. The fabric felt expensive, the kind nobles bled for.
The clothes were in different colors.
Red, black, blue, white, pink, purple. Five sets. Her five husbands.
Looking at the remaining male clothes, she retrieved them all, but discovered that after taking the one dress and five men's clothes, she couldn't retrieve the remaining clothes.
She tried again. The space felt sealed, like a hand closing over her wrist.
Looking at the number ten reduced to five, she realized something. Because she had retrieved five male clothes from the box, the remaining five couldn't be retrieved. Maybe waiting for their owners.
Opening her curtains, she realized that it was still dark, or maybe early morning.
The sky outside was a deep indigo, stars still stubbornly visible. No sun yet.
Still yawning, she retrieved her phone from the bedside, looking at the time. It was at four in the morning.
Too early for people. Perfect for her.
Her stomach felt empty. Yesterday's events had killed her appetite.
The unfairness of the heavens and the responsibility of saving the other characters exhausted her to the bone. It felt like carrying wet stone. Heavy, cold, impossible to put down.
She went to the bathroom to wash up before going to prepare breakfast and while at it, wake her mer husbands because today was the big banquet day.
The water was cold. She welcomed it.
Her mood was still low, and with her already bad reputation, she could imagine how the banquet would be.
Whispers. Pointed looks. Laughter behind hands.
She went to the room next to hers, which belonged to her third husband, Lenox.
Even before knocking, the room was opened from inside.
She looked bewildered at her third husband who was still in his pajamas.
His eyes were misty with sleep, hair rugged and falling over his forehead. The pajamas were silk, black, half-undone.
She saw one of his chest peeking from his unbuttoned pajamas and gulped hard.
Eyes stay focused. She chanted those words inwardly, only to see him smirking.
"Ummh, can you wake up the others? I'm going to prepare breakfast. Oh, and don't bother with your banquet clothes. I already have them prepared," she told him sheepishly while avoiding eye contact.
There was no way she was going to wake up the other mers. What if she discovered one of them half-naked?
The image alone made her face heat.
As she turned to leave, her wrist was grabbed.
The grip was gentle but firm. Not restraining. Asking.
She looked at him in puzzlement.
He moved closer to where she was. She could feel his heat and his scent. Just like Dylan and Cassen, his scent was mint, but cold and comfortable.
Without her realizing it, she had already reduced the remaining space between them.
Her body moved before her mind caught up.
She breathed in his scent greedily. He raised his thumb and brushed her lips. He moved his head, and thinking of the expected kiss, Chloe closed her eyes.
Her heart stuttered.
"Mistress, you need to greet your men first before telling them what to do," his cool, lazy voice was heard in her ear.
She opened her eyes to see him looking at her wrist thoughtfully before releasing it.
"I will wake them up for you," he said before closing the door.
The door shut with a soft click that felt louder than it should have been.
She stood there motionless for some time before the embarrassment kicked in.
Heat crawled up her neck. She hated this. Hated the way her body reacted before her mind agreed.
She couldn't grasp her emotions clearly. Didn't she hate them for what they did to her in the book? But she'd always felt drawn to them, though not that strong.
It was like a thread pulled taut between them. She could cut it. But part of her didn't want to.
She couldn't say it was love. To her, love was hard to grasp. Love came with emotions, and emotions needed to be taken care of.
She'd always been proud of her emotionless state. Emotionless meant safe. Emotionless meant free.
But now, she couldn't even know what she was feeling.
After eating breakfast which she had prepared, it was light, she went to her bedroom to retrieve their clothes and shoes.
The clothes were unique. One could wish for a different color and design, and the fabric seemed to shift slightly, as if it understood.
She laid the clothes on the sofa in the living room, so that each one could choose.
After handing them their clothes, she went to prepare herself.
The mirror reflected her back. Tired eyes, but steady.
She looked in the mirror and she was happy at how she looked.
The red gown hugged her like it had been made for her. The high heels added height she didn't need but wanted anyway. The phoenix earrings caught the light with every movement. The necklace sat heavy against her throat, grounding her.
It was dupe.
Living her room and descending the stairs to the living room, she saw five pairs of eyes looking at her greedily.
They didn't try to hide it. Hunger, awe, possession. All of it naked on their faces.
"What is with the situation, system?" She asked the system, but it didn't reply.
The system seemed to be sulking without reason.
Before she could take another step, she saw all of them removing their jackets, but Nathan was faster by wrapping his around her.
The jacket smelled like him. Mint and cold. It swallowed her in warmth she hadn't asked for.
She looked at them speechlessly.
There in their garage, there were three cars. All of them were minibuses.
In this world, every woman with status was gifted a minibus when they married.
She looked at the car which looked no different from one on Earth.
After sitting in the car, her fourth husband, who was always silent, took the driver's position.
He didn't speak. He never did. But his hands on the wheel were steady.
Fastening their seatbelts, she noticed there in the corner of the car were four crystals, which were to replenish the car's energy if it was depleted along the way.
As they drove off from their compound, she looked at the scenery outside. Different minibuses passed them, heading in the same direction.
Flags. Banners. Nobles trying to look important.
After two hours of travel, they reached the palace gate, which was carved in gold patterns.
Women statues were placed on either side of them. Stone faces, serene and judging.
The women guards looked at them disdainfully before letting them pass.
The road that led to the palace hall was in gold.
Literally gold. Inlaid, polished, blinding in the sun.
So far, they hadn't met any princess or prince, and the nobles they met just looked at them with contempt.
She memorized each face. Each name would come later.
They stood outside the hall that hosted the banquet in awe. The place looked busy.
Women flocked by, ten or more mers passing them. She looked odd with five mers.
When the guards saw them, they saluted before announcing their arrival in a mic-like thing suspended in the air above their heads.
The voice was amplified.
The hall quietened at the announcement.
Her husbands took one hand each while others carried the extra clothes that flailed downwards.
She entered the hall. People started murmuring.
"I heard that she is unwanted."
"Speak quietly, she is an unwanted seed since young."
"Don't you know? She is a bane. Her father was hospitalized when she was young."
"She hates her sister for marrying the real nobles while she married the illegitimate."
"I heard that she wanted to snatch her sister's husbands. How hateful."
She scanned the crowd calmly while remembering the ones who were talking. Looking at their twisted faces, she felt like laughing.
She looked at the queen who was sitting in the highest place with her family members. She was sipping a red drink calmly, ignoring the people who were talking.
Her mother. Black hair, black eyes, face identical to hers.
So why did she hate her?
Chloe closed her eyes to hide the emotions in them. Fluidly, they moved to where the queen was, with her eyes still on the queen.
"Greetings to the exalted high and the leader of our nation," they bowed while greeting her.
"Rise," the woman on the throne spoke. Her voice was serene and commanding.
Chloe raised her eyes to look at the queen.
Identical. Except for the hate.
She turned to sit in her place, and just like in the novel, the place was taken.
She locked eyes with the heroine. The woman looked about twenty. Blue eyes, blue hair, oval face, big eyes, pink lips, fair skin.
She looked refreshing and innocent. Too innocent.
She looked at her eyes. She saw the hatred in them, but her face showed fear.
Interesting. She smiled. Maybe something was going to change.
"System, your heroine is reborn!" She chuckled darkly.
The hatred she saw was not new. It was engraved forever.
Without talking, she moved to where the heroine was, sized her up before lazily taking her hand forcefully in hers and making her stand up.
The girl flinched.
She moved the heroine to the place she was supposed to be sitting and helped her sit.
When her six husbands saw their woman standing, they followed her.
Loyalty on display. A wall of color and danger behind her.
Chloe returned to her place as the first princess to sit.
Talking to the heroine would lead to a banter she knew she wouldn't win.
She wasn't good with words, so she'd use actions.