"Ugh... my head feels like a durian fell on it. Pim? Are you there? Tell the driver I'm suing."
I tried to open my eyes, but the light was way too aggressive. Like, 'staring-directly-at-the-sun' aggressive. I remembered the screech of tires, the smell of street-food pad thai, and a giant truck grill with my name on it. I should be a pancake right now.
But instead of cold asphalt, I was lying on something soft. Like, Egyptian-cotton-ten-thousand-thread-count soft.
"My Lady! You're awake! Praise the Forest Spirits!"
I bolted upright. This was not my messy apartment. This was a literal palace. The walls were covered in intricate gold carvings, and the air smelled like expensive jasmine incense and sandalwood. Standing by the bed was a girl in a traditional chut thai wrap, looking at me like I'd just risen from the grave.
"Who are you?" I croaked. "And why are you wearing a costume? Is this a prank show? Where's the camera?"
The girl turned pale. "It's me, Mali! Your loyal servant! Oh no... the fall from the pavilion must have scrambled your brains! I'll go fetch the royal healer!"
She bolted out of the room before I could say "Wait!"
I crawled out of bed and staggered toward a massive, gilded floor mirror. I took one look and screamed.
"No way. No. Freaking. Way."
The girl in the mirror was gorgeous. Heart-shaped face, skin like cream, and eyes that looked like liquid chocolate. But I knew those eyes. I knew that signature red silk wrap and the ruby hairpins.
I was Kanya Dechapanya. The primary antagonist of Siam's Sweetest Heart. The girl who spends thirty chapters bullying the heroine and ends up getting her head chopped off in the "True Ending."
"I got hit by a truck and ended up in a dating sim," I whispered, poking my cheek. It felt real. Too real. "Of all the people to be... why the one with the death warrant?"
Suddenly, the heavy teak doors swung open. A man walked in, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
He was tall. Like, 'model-scouted-at-the-mall' tall. He wore a dark blue silk pha nung and a gold sash that screamed I own this country. His hair was pulled back perfectly, revealing a jawline that could cut glass.
It was Prince Phurin. The Crown Prince. My "fiancé" and the guy who eventually signs my execution order.
Above his head, a translucent floating box appeared.
> Character: Crown Prince Phurin
> Affection Level: -50 (Pure Hatred)
> Current Mood: Annoyed enough to throw something.
>
"Kanya," he said, his voice like smooth velvet dipped in ice. "Stop this pathetic acting. Falling off a three-foot pavilion wouldn't give you amnesia. It's embarrassing."
My survival instinct kicked in. In the game, Kanya would have thrown a vase at him and screamed about her feelings. But I'm not Kanya. I'm a girl who wants to live to see twenty-one.
"Oh, hey Phurin," I said, waving awkwardly. "Actually, you're right. I'm fine! Totally fine. You can go now. Don't let the door hit you on the way out!"
The Prince froze. His eyes narrowed, searching my face for a trick. The little box above his head flickered.
> Affection Level: -48 (Wait, what?)
>
"You... didn't call me 'Your Royal Highness' or 'My Beloved Soulmate,'" he noted, stepping closer. The smell of his cologne—something like rain and expensive citrus—swirled around me. "And you didn't cry. Are you actually ill?"
"Nope! Just had a mid-life—well, mid-death—crisis," I said, hopping back onto the bed and grabbing a bowl of tropical fruit from the side table. I bit into a piece of mango. Holy cow, this is the best mango I've ever tasted. "I've decided to retire from being a villain. It's too much work. From now on, I'm just here for the snacks."
Phurin stared at me like I'd grown a second head. The silence stretched on until he finally let out a short, confused huff.
"We are supposed to announce our wedding date at the Emerald Gala tonight," he said coldly. "Try not to cause a scene. For once."
He turned and marched out, his cape swirling behind him.
I watched him go, chewing my mango thoughtfully. "Wedding date? Yeah, right. I need to break up with him before he kills me. But first..."
I looked at the massive spread of food Mali had left behind.
"I need to find out if this palace has any boba."
I spent the next three hours staring at my reflection. If I was going to die, at least I'd die as a ten-out-of-ten. Mali, my poor, stressed-out servant, spent that time wrestling me into a gold-threaded sabai that was so tight I could barely breathe.
"My Lady, you're so quiet," Mali whispered, pinning a diamond lotus into my hair. "Usually, you've thrown at least three hairbrushes at me by now."
"New year, new me, Mali," I chirped, trying not to pass out from the corset-level silk wrapping. "Also, if I throw a brush, I might break a nail. Priorities."
The Emerald Gala was held in a hall that looked like it was literally made of glitter and money. Massive emerald-encrusted pillars, silk hanging from the rafters, and enough spicy-sweet food smells to make me forget I was technically a dead girl walking.
As soon as I stepped in, the music stopped. Every head turned. The whispers started immediately.
"Is that Kanya? I heard she fell off a balcony because she was stalking the Prince."
"She looks... different. Why isn't she screaming at the buffet staff?"
I ignored them. My eyes were on the prize: a table filled with Thong Yip—those little gold flower desserts. I was two steps away from heaven when a wall of pure muscle blocked my path.
I looked up. And up. And up.
> Character: General Teerut
> Affection Level: -70 (Absolute Contempt)
> Current Mood: Ready to arrest you.
>
Teerut was the "Cold General" archetype. He had a scar running through one eyebrow and shoulders so broad they had their own zip code. In the game, he's the one who literally throws Kanya into the dungeon.
"Lady Kanya," he rumbled, his voice like a landslide. "I see you've recovered from your 'accident.' Try not to 'accidentally' trip into the Crown Prince's lap tonight. I'm tired of filing reports on your tantrums."
I blinked. He was even hotter than his character art. Like, dangerously hot. But his attitude? Zero stars.
"Don't worry, General," I said, giving him a lazy salute with a dessert spoon. "I'm staying at least ten feet away from Phurin at all times. Social distancing, you know? It's a trend."
Teerut's eyes widened. He actually took a step back.
> Affection Level: -65 (Confusion)
>
"A trend?" he muttered. But before he could interrogate me, a smooth, melodic voice chimed in from behind him.
"Oh, let her be, Teerut. She seems... refreshed."
I turned. Standing there was Prince Niran, the genius mage. He had silver-framed glasses perched on his nose and looked like he spent his weekends reading ancient scrolls and looking intellectually superior.
> Character: Prince Niran
> Affection Level: -10 (Mild Disinterest)
> Current Mood: Intrigued by the anomaly.
>
"Lady Kanya," Niran said, bowing slightly. "Your mana feels... different today. Usually, it's quite... turbulent. Today, it feels like... a nap?"
"That's because I need a nap, Your Highness," I replied, finally snagging a gold dessert and popping it into my mouth. Oh my god, sugar bliss. "Being a villain is exhausting. I've retired. I'm a consultant now."
"A consultant for what?" Niran asked, tilting his head.
"For minding my own business," I said, spraying a few crumbs by accident.
Suddenly, someone threw an arm around my shoulder, nearly knocking my diamond lotus loose.
"Pee-Kanya! You're finally here!"
I didn't even need to look. It was Prince Kovit, the youngest. The flirt. The menace. He smelled like expensive sandalwood and mischief.
> Character: Prince Kovit
> Affection Level: +15 (You're my favorite toy)
> Current Mood: Bored and looking for chaos.
>
"I heard you lost your memory!" Kovit laughed, his eyes sparkling. "Does that mean you forgot you owe me fifty gold coins from that card game? Or that you promised to buy me a new horse?"
"Nice try, kid," I said, elbowing him in the ribs. "I might have amnesia, but I'm not stupid. Go play with your hoop and stick."
The entire circle went dead silent. Phurin, who had been watching from the throne, stood up and walked over, his face unreadable.
The four most powerful, dangerous, and gorgeous men in the kingdom were now surrounding me. In the game, this would be the moment they all teamed up to roast me.
Instead, the floating boxes above their heads started flickering like crazy.
"Kanya," Phurin said, his voice dropping an octave. "Who exactly are you talking to? And why are you eating with your fingers?"
I looked at the four of them—the Stoic, the Scholar, the Flirt, and the Prince.
"I'm Kanya," I said, wiping sugar off my lip. "And if you guys aren't going to help me find the spicy shrimp cakes, you're officially blocking my view of the buffet."
I brushed past the Crown Prince, leaving the most powerful men in the realm staring at my back in total silence.
I was halfway to the shrimp cakes when the grand doors creaked open again. This time, the vibe in the room shifted from "confused silence" to "heavenly choir."
Enter: Lali.
The heroine. The girl with the "damsel in distress" eyes and hair that somehow never got frizzy in the Thai humidity. She was wearing a simple, pale pink chut thai that made her look like a literal lotus flower.
In the game, this is where Kanya—the old me—would have tripped her, spilled wine on her dress, or started a screaming match. Instead, I just leaned against a pillar and watched the show.
Lali fluttered her eyelashes, looking around the room with practiced innocence. "Oh, I'm so sorry I'm late! The village children needed help with their... uh... flower crowns?"
Classic Lali, I thought, popping a shrimp cake into my mouth. The "I'm so sweet I give everyone cavities" routine.
The Princes immediately pivoted. Phurin's face softened. Teerut stopped scowling. Even Kovit straightened his sash. It was like they were programmed to gravitate toward her.
Lali's eyes scanned the room until they landed on me. She froze for a split second—a flicker of something that definitely wasn't "innocent"—before plastering on a sugary smile and scurrying over.
"Kanya! I heard you had a terrible fall!" she chirped, reaching out to grab my hands. "I was so worried! Are you feeling better? Does your head still hurt?"
Under the table, she gave my hand a sharp, painful squeeze. Her eyes weren't sparkling; they were calculating.
> Character: Lali (The Heroine?)
> Affection Level: -500 (You're in my way)
> Current Mood: "Why aren't you dead yet?"
>
Wait, I thought, my eyes widening. That affection meter is lower than the Princes'! Then, she leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper that only I could hear. "Listen, you pampered brat. I don't know what 'amnesia' game you're playing, but Phurin is mine. Stay in your lane, or I'll make sure your next 'fall' is from the top of the Great Stupa."
I blinked. Then I smiled. A big, toothy, "I-know-your-secret" smile.
"Lali, babe," I whispered back, pulling my hand away. "First off, your foundation is a shade too light. Second? You can have him. In fact, take all four of them. They're exhausting and they talk too much."
Lali's jaw actually dropped. "What?"
"I'm retiring from the drama," I said, patting her cheek. "I'm going to go find some Nam Prik. You enjoy the boys!"
I turned to walk away, but a hand caught my wrist. It wasn't Lali. It was Phurin.
He was staring at me, his brow furrowed, completely ignoring Lali, who was currently posing in her best "neglected heroine" stance.
"Kanya," he said, his voice strangely tight. "You just told the woman you've hated for years to... 'take' me?"
"Yeah," I said, checking my nails. "She likes you. You like her. It's a win-win. Can I go now? The spicy dip is getting cold."
The little box above Phurin's head started spinning like a glitching loading screen.
> Affection Level: -48... -30... -10... +5?
> Current Mood: Crisis of Identity.
>
"No," Phurin said, his grip tightening just a little—not hurtfully, but like he was afraid I'd vanish. "The Gala hasn't even started. You're staying right here. With me."
Beside him, Teerut crossed his arms, staring at me with a look that was less "I want to arrest you" and more "Who the hell are you and why am I interested?"
I looked at the four Princes, then at a fuming Lali, then at my empty plate.