(Bl) Transmigration: Seducing and making Cinderella's prince mine

Cinderella fell to the floor, crying, as dozens of mice gathered around her, squeaking as if sympathizing with her pain. She felt ashamed and degraded.

Kayden, who was standing nearby, stared at the girl with pity, the same question ringing in his mind over and over.

Why was a mother called a whore? Why was everything so different now? Or was it just his presence that was changing everything?

"Thanks for standing up for me, stranger. I really appreciate it," Cinderella spoke through her tears, which were gushing uncontrollably.

"It's nothing. At least that's the little I can do for you because those people are pure evil. But, my dear, about the ball… you're not attending." Kayden's sudden statement made Cinderella frown.

She stood up, and the atmosphere changed instantly. This was what she'd been preparing for her whole life—a chance at something magical, a change that would take her out of this misery and cursed household. And now, this stranger was declaring that she shouldn't attend the ball. How ridiculous.

"Why, if I may ask? Everything has already been settled," Cinderella said, her naive expression only making it all the more frustrating for Kayden.

"And after what you did, I don't think my stepmother will bother me again," she tried to look at the positive side, or at least that's what Kayden noticed.

The mice, as if agreeing with her, nodded their little heads. The scene earlier had made them trust Kayden, at least a little bit.

Kayden sighed. It appeared he was the only sensible person here—or was it just because he'd overheard their malicious plots against Cinderella?

"Cindy! Cindy! Cinderella—how many times did I call you, girl?" Kayden asked sternly.

Cinderella blinked cutely, a bit confused.

"Three," she answered.

"Perfect. You, girl, are going to be killed by your stepmom and sisters if you don't leave this house. Trust me when I say this: your head has already been discussed," Kayden didn't bother sugarcoating his words.

This new revelation made Cinderella shudder.

"No! They can't go that far. It's against the law. They'd be prosecuted for it," Cinderella tried explaining, but Kayden only laughed at her delusional fantasies.

He slowly approached her and placed his strangely soft hands over her delicate shoulders.

"And what makes you think that, Cindy? Who knows about you here, apart from your so-called family?"

"So, darling, they can easily kill you and bury your corpse in the deepest part of the earth, and no one will talk—not even your so-called sisters," Kayden revealed.

At that moment, Cinderella crumbled. She had no clue what to do.

"What do I do, stranger? I'm scared. I don't want to die," Cinderella begged, her voice trembling.

"It's Kayden, Cindy—not 'stranger,'" Kayden corrected gently, though his mind was already running deep. He had successfully averted their tragedies—or so he thought.

Cinderella attending the ball and snatching the prince would only result in her getting mercilessly killed because, from what he was seeing, they probably had something orchestrated on the way to the palace. So it was better safe than sorry.

"Just do what I tell you and trust me on this. You're going to be protected. Go to your room now and lock yourself in. When I arrive, I'll let you know, and you'll open the door. Is that understood?" Kayden probed.

Cinderella nodded, not that she had much of a choice. Because if she rejected this plan in any way, her head would end up being the price.

"Good. That settles it, then." Kayden's face lit up with a spark of relief.

******

The palace's huge, glamorous garden was crowded with carriages of all sizes. Families, friends, and visitors from various kingdoms arrived with their prospective ladies, each groomed for a day like this.

Dresses shimmered with wealth and prestige—no one doubted that the great empire of Eldrador took such matters seriously. Ladies from distinguished families arrived bearing lavish gifts and polite greetings.

And most breathtaking of all was the dazzling ballroom, so vast it seemed like a thousand rooms joined in one. Its gold walls and marble floors gleamed with superiority, and high above, crystal chandeliers sparkled like diamonds. The sight awed all visitors—it wasn't every day people set foot in the grand palace of Eldrador, especially the infamous Hall of Terror, nicknamed so because of a dark history that once unfolded within its walls.

In the middle of the enormous room stood the royal family: the fearsome King Gerald Nightshade and his two wives. The first, Queen Athalia, was the mother of Zolan, while the second, Queen Charlotte, was the mother of two boys and a girl.

The first son, Levi, was a notorious drunkard and womanizer. The second child, Esther, was the pride of the palace—the only daughter. And the youngest was Stephen, secretly gay.

Standing alongside the royal family was Marcel, the king's younger brother and uncle to the children. He was married to Linda, an arrogant woman infamous for her gossiping ways and manipulative nature. Linda seemed to turn Marcel's head like a gear she could control at will.

Besides them stood their two children: Thane, a strangely quiet boy, and Annabelle, his complete opposite—a sharp-mouthed, spoiled brat who harbored a passionate hatred for the royal family.

In that gathering, hostility simmered openly, yet Gerald didn't care to address it. He had warned everyone earlier that tonight was about Zolan finding a bride, and no one was allowed to ruin it—not even his own family.

Linda, however, didn't care. She openly glared at the two queens seated on golden thrones, especially the one seated closest to the king, Queen Mother Athalia, the favored wife. Linda made no attempt to hide her contempt, her face twisted in a silent snarl, reminding Athalia that she would always be beneath her, even if it was a lie.

"Darling, you have to stop scowling, or the king might get angry," Marcel warned softly. Linda had no choice but to fake a smile, lighting up her face like a doll in a horror movie.

Athalia felt hopeful. Her son was finally going to find a girl. She couldn't deny that she was a bit scared—she hadn't been able to bear more children and couldn't bear the thought of the throne passing her son by. She was glad he'd finally decided to go along with her husband's wishes.

"Stop with the glare, Zolan. You're scaring your soon-to-be bride away," Athalia whispered to Zolan softly so no one else could overhear. But Zolan continued frowning, keeping a cold facade.

Gerald, observing his son's stony expression, turned back to the crowd, which was slowly forming. This was it—the time to begin the event.

At the sound of the trumpet, the event commenced, with Clyde calling out names from the list he held, announcing each person as they stepped forward to introduce themselves to the prince, who was already standing.

Everything went well—until Clyde called the names of two ladies:

"Lydia Morell and Chloe Morell, daughters of the widow of East Wing Castle."

All eyes fell on the two ladies, who were escorted forward by their mother.

Lydia, ever the perfectionist, smiled serenely, while Chloe, the more awkward sister, lowered her head. But one sharp glare from her mother was enough to make her compose herself.

"Your Highness," the two sisters chorused, bowing in perfect sync, making the prince's eyes linger on Lydia for a moment longer than was proper.

Mira held her breath, waiting for her moment of glory, her victory—but something else stole the prince's attention. It stole everyone's attention.

A girl entered in a dazzling red corset, so enormous and splendid that all the ladies around her seemed to hold their breath.

She was ethereal.

And the girl was none other than Cinderella.

Mira clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"How dare that whore," she seethed under her breath, enraged.

Among the crowd stood Kayden, who was sick of the hideous corsets and historical clothing. He'd summoned the fairy godmother, and here he was, dressed in a slightly oversized crop top and dark black jeans, with high boots that echoed so loudly as he walked, exuding the elegance of a born villain—and a seductress.

But his entire world came crashing down when he saw Cinderella dancing with the prince, swaying to what seemed like a melodious, soulful tune.

The fuck! How did she get here so fast? Wasn't she supposed to be locked in her room?

The royal family was all smiles, clearly pleased with the prince's choice, but no one knew who the girl was—not even Clyde, who held the guest list and squinted in confusion.

Queen Athalia's eyes shone with delight.

"Oh, Gerald—she's perfect," she breathed.

Esther squealed, her face beaming with joy.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" she exclaimed. But Queen Charlotte remained stony-faced, clearly displeased. Meanwhile, Levi stared shamelessly, probably already considering Cinderella as his next conquest.

Stephen wasn't paying attention to any of it; his eyes were locked on someone else—a stunning man who had just slipped through the ballroom, seemingly leaving. Stephen didn't know why, but he felt an itch deep in his chest and hurried to catch up.

"Gosh… who was that beauty?" he whispered internally, terrified his parents might hear his thoughts.

Kayden, unaware of Stephen's gaze, was too fixated on Cinderella. How the hell would he get her out of there? And in the next moment, the dance shifted from the main ballroom to the garden.

Cinderella was lost in the moment, relishing her dream come true. This was everything she'd ever wanted—but to her shock, the prince, who'd been holding her hand just moments before, suddenly stopped and turned to her with a new, stinging reality.

"I can't love you, girl. But I have to marry—for the sake of my family. So you know what you have to do. Pretend. Let's go for a marriage of convenience." The prince's words hadn't even fully registered before the clock began striking midnight.

Cinderella's eyes bulged in terror.

Oh no… she was finished. And like a bolt of lightning, she fled from Zolan.

Zolan stood speechless. What was happening? Wasn't she supposed to be thrilled with the arrangement? When he tried to chase after her, Kayden dragged her aside, beginning to reprimand Cindy.

"Why would you come here? Come on—we have to get you out of the palace," Kayden hissed, gritting his teeth as he realized the plot had just completely messed up his plans.

The goddamn plot again. And then it hit him—the other fairy godmother had approached Cinderella. Damn it, what had she promised the girl? Because, as far as Kayden understood, that fairy godmother was evil and plotting something sinister.

Before Kayden could process any further, someone shoved him aside so violently that he didn't even catch who the perpetrator was. The next thing he knew, Cinderella was stumbling backwards, teetering over the edge of the castle balcony.

She was falling several stories from the main castle grounds—and before anyone could react, she slammed into the floor below, her head splitting open as blood gushed out in torrents.

And now the question hung in the air, thick and heavy:

Who killed Cinderella?