“I was wrong! Don’t—please, I’m begging you...”

Five or six burly men, bare to the waist, kept closing in on her step by step.

Aurora Whitmore curled into the corner, her heart feeling as if someone had torn it open with bare hands. The pain was so sharp she could hardly breathe.

The man she had loved since she was young, on their wedding night, had actually brought others in to ruin her innocence and grind her pride into the dirt.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

The man’s face was cold and unreadable.

“Speak. You schemed your way into the prince’s manor as a substitute bride. Who ordered you to do it?”

Aurora Whitmore was pinned to the bed, unable to move at all. In despair, she shook her head.

“No one told me to! I did it because I love you!”

“Love? Heh?”

That mocking laugh made Aurora’s heart sink straight to the bottom.

She had been drugged with Clinging Passion Incense. The heat inside her body rose in waves, one stronger than the last. There was no way she was getting out of this untouched.

“Damian Ashford, if you humiliate me like this today, I won’t forgive you even as a ghost!”

The instant before a man’s hand tore at her clothes, Aurora bit down hard on the tip of her tongue.

But to her surprise, the pain at the back of her head overwhelmed even that.

Before Aurora could figure out what had happened, everything went black.

Her mind drifted in a haze, and she had a dream.

In that dream, someone gripped her waist tightly, almost fiercely. His voice was rough and low, his breath burning hot, like a furnace wrapping around her and sealing her in.

She wanted to run, but she had no strength at all.

In the end, she couldn’t hold on any longer and fainted completely.

When she opened her eyes again, what greeted her was an entirely unfamiliar room.

Her whole body felt as though it had been crushed under a cartwheel. Even lifting a finger seemed impossible.

Her mind slowly cleared as well.

Looking at the scene before her, Aurora Whitmore suddenly saw the original owner’s memories flashing through her mind like a lantern show.

While she was still stunned, a maid in blue stepped forward, staring at her with open disgust written all over her face.

“You should really look at yourself in a mirror. Ugly like a she-ghost, and you still dared to marry into Prince Chen’s manor in Miss Celeste’s place. Dream on.”

After saying that, the blue-clad maid walked straight up to her and yanked her off the bed without the least bit of care.

“How unlucky am I, ending up serving you? His Highness can’t stand the sight of you. From now on, this courtyard will be nothing but a place where people walk all over you.”

Aurora Whitmore fell to the floor in a miserable heap. Her clothes were in disarray, and bruises marked her body everywhere. One glance was enough to tell what had happened.

She looked blankly at the unfamiliar surroundings.

She—the female war god of the apocalypse—had crossed over.

Seeing how weak and easy to bully she seemed, the maid grabbed a feather duster and swung it straight at her head.

Aurora reacted on instinct. She snatched the feather duster away in one swift move.

At the same time, she drove a hard kick straight into the maid’s stomach.

“As long as His Highness has not given me a letter of divorce, I am still the Princess Consort. Since when does a mere maid get to act wild before me?”

The blue-clad maid was startled by her tone for a moment, but she quickly scrambled back to her feet.

“Bah. On your wedding night, His Highness would not even touch you. He even had other men come to shame you. What face do you have left to call yourself the Princess Consort? Today, I’ll teach you the rules of this prince’s manor!”

Smack—

Aurora Whitmore moved faster than she did and slapped her across the face.

“Ah—”

“I don’t know the rules of this prince’s manor, but I can teach you the rules of Aurora Whitmore first.”

The blue-clad maid was seething after being hit, but from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a figure entering from outside the courtyard. She dropped to her knees at once.

“This servant greets Your Highness.”

Aurora Whitmore whipped her head around and saw a man walking in, his face dark and stormy.