Chapter 3
A shiver ran through my entire body.
For the first time, I almost felt grateful to the owner of that strange voice I’d cursed countless times before.
Did they give me another chance because I provoked them in the comments, ranting about regression stories?
Whatever the reason, I was simply happy for the time I’d been given again.
This time, I’ll be reborn for real!
In Asphodel’s second life, I quit the half-baked acting altogether.
I knew it from the start—we never matched as characters!
Right. This time, I’d go naturally.
What kind of nonsense was a “sunshine heroine” anyway?
Come to think of it, that obnoxious voice never told me I had to act exactly like the novel.
They’d just said: If you’re confident, try it yourself.
If I wanted to systematically stop the villains this time, it seemed better to abandon the image of being vaguely kind and naïve and instead build a solid reputation—someone reliable and trustworthy—from an early age.
So I changed my route early on and began moving busily according to my future blueprint.
Before I knew it, people had started calling me a prodigy princess.
“The Third Princess is remarkably mature and intelligent for her age. Perhaps Her Majesty is paying close attention to her?”
Just like in my previous life, the empress mother showed little affection toward me.
But even if she didn’t love me as a daughter, recognizing me as a princess was a separate matter.
Thanks to the trust I built over time, she eventually stopped dismissing my opinions and advice outright.
With those around me, I maintained relationships based on trust and mutual benefit—strictly business.
“Asphodel? She kind of rubs me the wrong way—always looks like she’s showing off. She doesn’t really feel like a younger sister either. Still, if she’s useful to Rozantina, I don’t care.”
“She’s always meticulous. Beyond that… I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for. As a subject, it wouldn’t be proper for me to evaluate my liege, so I’ll take my leave.”
Hardly the lines you’d expect from brothers or male leads in a romance-fantasy child-raising novel—but I didn’t mind.
Maybe my past failure, tripping over myself trying too hard, had left a deeper scar than I realized.
This time, instead of forcing intimacy, I chose to maintain distance and build stable relationships.
So focused was I on saving the nation and eliminating villains—like a workaholic obsessed with avoiding a ruinous ending—that I inadvertently formed a bond of respect and trust with the male lead, more like commander and sovereign than lovers.
I dealt with the villains early, one by one, and successfully prevented the monster invasions.
This time, I treated it like clearing mandatory quests in a game—focusing only on the key events needed to avoid a bad ending.
I boldly discarded side episodes like raising affection levels with side male leads or secondary characters.
As a result, all major incidents concluded earlier than in the original novel.
When every last threat was finally eliminated, it felt like a decade-old weight had lifted from my chest.
This time, no one met a tragic end.
And I was alive—perfectly fine.
I was twenty years old.
There were still about two years left before the original novel’s ending.
As memories of the suffering I’d endured across both lives flashed before my eyes, tears welled up.
That night, I raised a toast alone to celebrate my success.
You did well, me.
Compared to the original novel’s catastrophic ending—and my first life as Asphodel—this was as close to a perfect happy ending as it got.
For the first time in ages, I thought I’d finally be able to sleep peacefully.
But that very night—
My sickly, beautiful younger brother suddenly launched a rebellion.
No—there’s no way my kitten would ever do this!
It was an unimaginable miscalculation.
I thought all I had to do was keep him away from the final villain.
I never dreamed that this affection-starved younger brother would twist himself into darkness on his own while I was busy achieving my grand goals.
A wave of injustice and fury surged up, and I spat blood in frustration.
“Please don’t blame the Fourth Prince too harshly. No matter who won this struggle, the Third Princess would have been the first to die.”
The subordinate sent by my brother said this calmly as I lay bleeding to death.
I’d known there was silent tension and rivalry beneath the surface among the siblings.
In the original novel, Asphodel was the emotional center that kept everyone united—but in my reality, they didn’t share that kind of affection.
Even so, I never believed they’d resort to such extreme measures to seize the throne.
Especially not the sickly, gentle Fourth Prince.
“Why… me?”
I knew it was a foolish question—but I couldn’t believe what was happening.
I had never wanted the throne.
Sure, I understood how my actions—working tirelessly to reach a happy ending—might look like ambition to others.
That was exactly why I’d renounced my right of succession years ago, to avoid being dragged into messy power struggles.
Perhaps as an act of final mercy, the man explained why I was being purged.
Because of the heroine’s “buff,” I was the only royal possessing divine power—holy power granted by the gods.
Even if I had relinquished the throne, I could still destabilize public sentiment as a saintess and rally the temple to attempt a coup.
Because I was a daughter deeply trusted by the Empress.
And because my father—her most favored consort—came from Hiserion, one of Rozantina’s most prestigious noble houses.
In short, I was a potential threat.
So rather than live in fear, they’d decided to remove me now.
“The restraint binding Your Highness was specially crafted by the Prince for this day. It seals holy power completely, so struggling will only waste your strength.”
I laughed hollowly.
Ah… so this is how it ends?
I was truly angry now.
Angry at myself for drinking too much that night and failing to guard against an assassin.
Angrier still when I thought of my brother stabbing me in the back when my guard was down.
Sure, I hadn’t spent much time with him this life, being busy eliminating enemies…
But still—you were different from the others. Even in my previous life, we didn’t have a bad relationship!
If it had been any of the other siblings, this betrayal wouldn’t have hurt nearly as much.
I hadn’t formed the deep bond Asphodel had with him in the novel—but compared to the siblings who rejected me in both lives, he had always stayed my younger brother.
So I’d given him my genuine affection.
And this is how you repay me?
You look relieved, Sister.
Suddenly, the Fourth Prince’s face from earlier resurfaced in my mind.
Late that evening, he had been waiting outside my room.
Zerkain, what brings you here at this hour?
Everything you were most concerned about has finally been resolved. I wanted to congratulate you.
Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without your concern.
When I smiled at him, he stared at my face for a long moment before speaking words I hadn’t fully understood at the time.
You still look at me the same way, Sister.
What?
I’m relieved that you haven’t changed.
What do you—
You may not know this, but the longing I’ve carried for you has never changed either.
Should I have thought more deeply about those words?
But at the time, I was overwhelmed by relief, exhilaration, and exhaustion all at once.
So I simply assumed he was being clingy after a long time.
Trying to reassure him, I said—
Now that everything’s settled, we’ll be able to see each other more often.
What kind of smile did he give me then…?
It’s quite late now. I hope you enjoy a deep, restful sleep tonight.
Only the strange sunset-colored eyes I glimpsed for an instant before he turned away crawled up from the depths of my memory.
…Farewell, Asphodel.
Without waiting for my reply, he passed by me and left.
It felt off—unlike his usual excessively polite self.
But I was too intoxicated with relief to notice the warning signs.
Looking back now, he had already decided to kill me back then.
Snap.
With a hollow sneer, I completely released the first seal binding my holy power.
Whooooo—!
A violent wind suddenly surged through the room, snuffing out every flickering candle.
Total darkness swallowed the space in an instant.
“What is this?”
Since there were no open windows, the Fourth Prince’s subordinate stiffened and looked around warily.
Crash!
Bang—!
In the next moment, objects in the room were hurled violently in all directions, shattering as if swept away by a giant’s arm.
The Delinquent Princess’s Free-Spirited Life Plan
