Chapter 2: I Became the Youngest Princess of Asura Masura (1)
In the beginning, there was a story.
And at the start of that story, I remembered my role.
In a state where I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or closed, amidst a cascade of brilliant white light pouring onto my retinas—
“It will be salvation.”
That was the only phrase I managed to pull out.
I was particularly fussy at night.
Every single night, without fail, the same jumbled story would play out repeatedly in my dreams.
“Are you alright, milady?”
“Did you think I was lonely?”
“Don’t say such things when you don’t even know me.”
“What was your mother’s name again?”
“No…! Get a hold of yourself, Millie!”
As if I wasn’t allowed to forget a single fragment.
So, when my senses had developed just enough to accept adult reasoning, I realized what kind of situation I was in.
“Surely, a great blessing has descended upon Asura Masura.”
…That strange country name.
“Thanks to the benevolent Emperor Optimus III…”
That name—sounding like a giant robot or some modern household appliance.
And the chaotic, dreamlike nights filled with endless reruns of events from Asura Masura under the rule of Optimus III.
Yes, this was a scenario all too familiar to any long-time romance fantasy reader.
A country name I’d heard before. Names I’d heard before. And the fact that newborn me knew these names already…
I had transmigrated into a book I’d read. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say I’d reincarnated into it?
As for my final memory from my previous life…
I was walking across Mapo Bridge.
Slogans like “Recall the good times” and “You’ve had a hard time, haven’t you?” drifted through my view, but I was there with a heart entirely unrelated to the bridge’s reputation.
It had been a lonely day, so I had gone to the Han River Park, drank a bottle of soju with beer as a chaser, and was heading home.
My face was probably flushed from the alcohol, and I planned to get some air before sobering up and taking the subway.
I pulled out my phone and pressed the topmost contact in my call history. I’d done this once or twice each evening for the past few days—today, several times again from the riverbank.
[♡My Love♡] ↗ (13)
Rrrrrrr….
As the familiar ringing tone played—a sound I’d heard dozens of times over the past few days—I had a flood of thoughts.
Half of me hoped they’d pick up. Half of me hoped they wouldn’t.
If they did answer, what would I even say? What would they say? I wasn’t prepared for any of it.
The number you have dialed is unavailable…
That automated response—something I’d already heard multiple times that day—cut through the ambient street noise like a dagger.
“I figured…”
I clenched my phone and stopped walking.
Another breakup.
Despite giving it my all, my relationships always ended somewhere I didn’t choose.
The whooshing of passing cars muffled my ears.
I didn’t want to be alone today. Maybe I should go to my family’s place?
“Your sister’s exams are right around the corner. Why come home and make things chaotic?”
“Eating chicken now will just make your stomach upset!”
“Wasting money on nonsense. Better to buy some tonic for your youngest sibling. Can’t believe I gave birth to such a foolish girl…”
…No. Then maybe a friend I could call?
“Did you see your ex’s Insta? Looks like he moved on—with someone way better than you.”
“Maybe he left because you were too nice? You know how men run when you chase them.”
Even as I recalled the faces of family and friends, those harsh words I’d once heard came rushing back.
“In novels, they might roll around like that but still meet their destined lover. So unfair…”
I sighed and looked up, thinking about the story I’d been rereading at the riverside.
Suddenly, my vision spun.
Orange streetlights. Red taillights flashing past. The crimson sky, heavy with rain clouds…
And then, darkness.
That was the last memory from my previous life.
Did I die? I’m honestly not sure.
You might say it can’t be a “previous life” if I didn’t die, but… I don’t know.
What I do know for sure is that the life beginning now is my real life.
“It will be salvation.”
That one hazy phrase remained like a beacon—perhaps the turning point of my life?
Ah… I’m sleepy…
“Guess I’m done thinking for today.”
Though I had lived over twenty years in my past life, my body now wasn’t developed enough to maintain consciousness for long, and I found it hard to perceive my surroundings.
“Look at the baby yawn!”
“Isn’t she just like a baby bird?”
“She’s absolutely precious.”
Haam~ Sometimes I heard conversations that were embarrassingly sweet to believe they were about me.
“She’s asleep again.”
“At this age, that’s normal.”
“You did the same when you were a baby.”
Sometimes, I sensed the presence of people I presumed to be family lingering near my cradle.
“They really dote on me like this?”
‘I guess that’s how it is with babies…’
Drowsy again, I drifted off.
How many times did I repeat the cycle of sleep and wake?
Being fed, being bathed—it all blurred together until one day, amidst a flurry of activity, I slowly blinked awake.
‘Why are there so many people…?’
Normally, it was just my mother, the nanny, and a few maids. But now, over ten people seemed to be gathered.
“The baby is finally one month old!”
My limp body, cradled against what I assumed to be my mother’s chest, was suddenly lifted.
This thick, strong embrace… must be Father.
Blinking, I focused my still-blurry vision on the person holding me. Under neatly combed silver hair, a gentle smile bloomed on the face of a handsome middle-aged man.
‘This must be Optimus III…’
At last, I saw the emperor whose name I’d only heard. I vaguely remembered hearing this voice in my sleep too.
“Coochie coo, look at Daddy~”
He gently rocked me in his arms and tried to soothe me.
Ugh, my focus is wobbling… Is he seriously just staring and smiling?
‘Is that a “you’re so cute I could die” look…?’
I wonder if I was ever looked at like that in my previous life. Then again, being a royal baby is nothing like being a modern commoner.
‘Well, all babies are cute anyway…’
He turned, and the light in the room shifted.
“Now, we shall formally add the baby to the royal lineage of Asura Masura.”
Ha… That name still makes me laugh. People always joked that it sounded like someone just mashed the keyboard.
“And her name shall be…”
Gulp. I braced myself as a stream of names passed through my mind—those of the emperor’s legitimate children.
‘I’m not the first, so I won’t be crown princess. Maybe Roselia, the one who becomes head of the Holy Knights? But training would be too hard. Or Rebecca? She had immense divine power, and they did say this would be salvation… Since I’m a princess, I can’t be Theodore…’
While I was mentally reviewing the lore of the imperial family—
“The baby’s name shall be Cecilia.”
‘Fourth Princess Cecilia!’
Ah! How could I forget her?
I snapped back to full alert and focused my vision.
The vague blobs of light and shadow finally took shape.
A graceful lady smiling from the bed. Children—boys and girls—staring at me with sparkling eyes.
‘Ah, right. I’d been hearing all kinds of voices every day—it was because I’m the youngest.’
All of my siblings and my new father had the signature silver hair of the imperial family, shimmering in the light.
‘So I’ve got hair like that too, huh?’
Yes. I had been born as Cecilia, the youngest princess of Asura Masura!
“Agoo.”
“Oh my, she’s smiling already.”
“The Princess is very bright!”
“A true blessing upon Asura Masura.”
My overwhelming joy must have somehow contorted my two-month-old facial muscles into a smile. How could I not smile? I was born with a diamond spoon in my mouth!
I was born into the world of 〈The Duke’s Violet Blooms in Tears〉, or “DukeVio” for short.
My favorite novel—a total guilty pleasure.
“DukeVio” was a Cinderella story about the admired heir of a duke’s family and a “Candy-type” heroine who came to the capital to rebuild her fallen house. The series was explosively popular when it was serialized.
Why guilty pleasure? Because for all its fame, it was a total melodramatic mess!
Secret births, disapproving future in-laws, tea-throwing, bags of gold coins—the works.
The male and female leads faced endless hardship in their “fated love.”
‘The angst was so thick you could suffocate on it. But despite the drama, no one ever stopped reading once they started.’
You might wonder—how could being in that kind of melodramatic world make me so happy that even my baby muscles moved?
Well, because I was born with a diamond spoon in my mouth!
The empire was at peace, and my parents—the Emperor and Empress—were so lovey-dovey that they had me at an age when most people are expecting grandchildren.
My siblings, all at least twelve years older than me, were incredibly close-knit. As the youngest, I wasn’t going to face any real threats growing up.
On top of that, Cecilia didn’t seem to hold any major political responsibilities.
‘The youngest princess who only has to be loved and pampered. Sweet, oh so sweet…’
Most importantly: in the original story, my screen time was practically nonexistent.
“They say the youngest princess is already attending council meetings.”
“She’s so wise, they expect she’ll take on an important post soon.”
Just occasional chatter from side characters.
“You must be quite close to the Fourth Princess. You even use a nickname for her…”
She was mostly used as a plot device to stir the heroine’s jealousy and deepen the romance.
The fact that I barely appeared in this messy, angsty romance meant one thing—
“My life is completely unrelated to the plot!”
So I had no death flags, no tragic love drama, and no storm of narrative conflict looming over me.
The only ones rolling in the angst field were the main couple—not the royal family, and definitely not me.
All I had to do was live happily as the youngest in a peaceful royal household.
Coochie coo~ Can’t stop smiling.
