Chapter 1

I became the queen of a tyrant, but I had a first love, and they looked alike.

Everyone knew I resembled the late queen and was her replacement, but they didn't know the tyrant also looked like the boy I had loved since childhood.

However, his personality was completely different from the one I loved. The boy I loved was gentle and refined, while the tyrant often exuded a cruel and violent aura.

One day, he killed my first love, not knowing that even a docile puppet could turn against him with sharp claws.

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As I approached the entrance of the great hall, a body covered in white cloth was being carried out. A crowd of people knelt at the doorway.

Inside, the man was heavily drunk, half-lying on an intricately carved dragon throne. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes tightly shut.

Shards of porcelain cups and jade plates were scattered everywhere. As I stepped in, a blue and gold vase suddenly shattered at my feet, its fragments cutting my arm.

I cried out in pain, clutching my hand as crimson blood flowed through my fingers and dripped onto the floor.

The sight of blood on the ground made me dizzy. When I looked up, I saw the tyrant beckoning to me.

"Aria, come here."

I was all too familiar with this name by now.

I obediently walked over, and he stroked my head as if petting an animal.

His palm was warm, but I didn't dare let my guard down. For some reason, the hand resting on my head always made me uneasy.

The next moment, pain shot through my scalp as I was forced to meet his cold, dark eyes. "Who gave you permission to wear Aria's hairpin?"

He yanked out the hairpin and looked at me coldly.

Even after a year, facing those eyes still filled me with fear.

They were the eyes of a lone wolf, a flash of red in the vast wilderness, locking onto you, hunting you.

I knew he didn't like to see me looking scared, so I skillfully put on the gentle smile I had practiced countless times. "Your Majesty must be drunk, no? Does your humble servant need permission from others to wear her own hairpin?"

His eyes lowered, his long, thick lashes hiding his expression.

After a long moment, he burst into laughter, wrapping an arm around my waist and burying his face in my chest. "Aria can wear whatever she wants, as long as she doesn't leave me..."

Aria... was his late queen.

My name was also Ava, but my "Ava" meant distant.

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