Chapter 2
I froze. "What?"
"The first six Transmigrators all said the same thing," said Alexander.
He stood up and descended the steps.
His dark robe trailed behind him, like a shadow gliding through the night.
"Everyone of them mentioned Isabella, poison, three years, the world thrown into chaos.
"Not a single word was different."
He stopped in front of me, looking down at me with an air of authority.
"Is it a coincidence, or were you conspiring together?"
A chill ran down my spine. "Your Majesty, I didn't."
"Whether you did or not, you'll see." He turned around. "Follow me."
He led me down a long corridor, stopping in front of a concealed door.
The stone door was massive, and when it swung open, it unleashed a dull, thunderous roar.
Behind it, a staircase spiraled downward.
It was bottomless, swallowed by darkness.
"Go down," he ordered.
I lifted my skirt and descended, step by step.
The deeper I went, the colder it got.
The air was thick with a strange scent, like sandalwood mixed with the smell of antiseptic.
At the bottom of the stairs was a massive underground mausoleum.
The domed ceiling arched high overhead, inlaid with glowing pearls that bathed everything in an eerie, chilling light.
In the center, six crystal coffins stood in a perfect row.
Each one held the body of a woman.
They were all in wedding dresses, their faces delicate and so lifelike it seemed they might open their eyes at any moment.
I cautiously approached the first crystal coffin.
On its lid, the inscription read: [Transmigrator One, died because she talked too much.]
[Final words: Your Majesty, I know how to make gunpowder.]
The second coffin was inscribed: [Transmigrator Two, died for being too smart for her own good.]
[Final words: Your Majesty, I can cure the plague.]
The third coffin read: [Transmigrator Three, died from arrogance.]
[Final words: Your Majesty, I can harvest a thousand pounds per acre.]
Every coffin was marked with a number, a cause of death, and final words.
The final inscription stopped at the sixth coffin: [Your Majesty, I can achieve immortality.]
I stood before the sixth coffin, my blood running cold.
The woman inside looked eerily similar to me.
Her eyes, nose, and even the tiny mole at the corner of her mouth matched mine perfectly.
Alexander's voice rang out from behind me. "Have you seen enough?
"Those women were the ones who came before you.
"They all claimed they were from the future and said they knew it all.
"They all tried to bargain with their so-called 'prophecies' for riches and glory.
"And all of them died."
He walked up beside me, his hand brushing over the lid of the sixth coffin.
Then he turned his gaze to the side.
There was an empty coffin.
Its lid was bare, waiting for a name to be carved onto it.
"You're number seven," he said. "Got your final words ready?"
I turned to him. "Your Majesty, I'm not making this up. Isabella will poison you, three years from now."
"Where's your proof?"
"I..."
He cut me off, "No proof, right? Like the other six, no evidence, just talk."
"But what they said all came true," I protested, desperate. "Isabella really will poison you."
"Isabella died three years ago," Alexander said coolly. "She died of illness. I laid her to rest with my own hands."
I froze.
Isabella was dead three years ago?
Then who was the one poisoning The Tyrant?
"Looks like your 'prophecy' isn't so accurate," Alexander smirked, raising his hand. "Guards."
Two black-clad guards stepped out from the shadows.
"Send Princess Sophia to her coffin."
"Yes."
The guards moved in, seizing my arms.
"Wait!" I fought against their grip. "Your Majesty, I can prove it."
"Oh?" He raised his hand, and the guards halted. "How?"
I racked my brain, desperately trying to recall every detail from the novel. "I-I know even more.
"You have a scar on your side from a bear attack during a hunt when you were thirteen.
"The night you took the throne, you dreamed the late king cursed you for killing your brothers for the crown, and you woke up spitting blood.
"Your most trusted shadow guard leader is an orphan from Grayland, and he's been waiting for his chance to kill you."
Alexander's expression hardened with each word.
By the end, his eyes were steely, murderous intent gathering in their depths.
"Who told you all this?" he asked, his voice icy.
"No one told me," I said, clenching my teeth. "I just know. I read the book."
"A book?" He narrowed his eyes. "What book?"
I blurted out, throwing caution to the wind, "The Tyrant's Consort.
"It's a novel. I transmigrated straight out of the story.
"It says you'll be poisoned by Isabella, the Aetherion Kingdom will fall, and everything will descend into chaos.
"But Isabella is already dead, so the plot's changed. I have no clue what happens next now.
"But I know many details, things no one else could possibly know about you.
"I can help you escape the fate the novel has written for you."
I poured everything out in one breath, gasping for air as I finished.
Alexander stared at me for a long, tense moment.
The only sounds in the mausoleum were my shaky breaths and the dull thud of his fingers drumming on the coffin lid.
The clicking sound was like a countdown to death.
After what felt like an eternity, he said, "Take her to The Vault of Echoes."
"Yes." The guards loosened their grip on my arms.
"The Vault of Echoes? What kind of place is that?" I asked.
Alexander turned toward the stairs. "It's where we store the belongings of those who came before you.
"You have three days.
"Find proof that you're not like the others.
"Otherwise..."
He shot a glance at the empty coffin. "That's where you'll end up."