The hall gasped.
Then—laughter.
Wish's blurred vision sharpened slowly, tears still clinging to her lashes. She blinked them away, forcing the world back into focus.
Standing before her was a woman clad in layered silk—pale colors that screamed wealth, the kind of expensive fabric that caught light and held it.
Her outfit was daring: a short skirt tied artfully at the side, revealing long, perfect legs, and a cropped top that left her slim waist exposed and glistening as if oiled.
Her posture was flawless, chin lifted, shoulders back. Her fox tail—long, elegant, and deep red—hung perfectly still behind her, not a single hair out of place.
Her red hair cascaded down in waves so perfect, so artfully arranged, you might think she was a goddess descended to judge mortals.
The Elder Princess.
Viya Carmine.
She looked down at Wish the way one might look at something that had crawled out from under a shoe.
"So is this how low fox women have fallen?" the princess said, her voice cool and cutting. "Reduced to shameless theatrics."
Wish stared up at her, words dying in her throat before they could form. Her mind screamed one question over and over: Why the hell did she slap me?
Viya stepped closer. Since she was taller than Wish, she had to look down, and she did so with eyes that gleamed with malicious intent. "You kept blushing red. And your stupid tail puffed and fluffed right in front of His Radiance."
She leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something more dangerous. "Do you even have shame for yourself?"
Wish's face burned with embarrassment. "It wasn't my fault—" she tried to plead, hands coming up defensively. "I didn't mean to make my tail—"
"Stop pretending you don't know what you're doing!" the princess barked, cutting her off with a sharp gesture.
Wish's face went pale. "But I didn't—"
Viya laughed once, sharp and mirthless. The sound was like glass breaking.
"You prostitute." She tilted her head as if trying to get a better look, examining Wish like she was studying an insect.
"You think we don't know what you're doing? You're trying to get any man to marry you. I mean, at your age—no woman should be unmarried at your age. Nineteen turning twenty with no suitors? I understand."
Her lips curved cruelly. "But trying to seduce and pry attention from the deity himself? You're not worth it."
She paused, letting the words sink in like poison.
"You are fat," she said flatly, each word deliberate. "And stupid. Any lesser beast would run from you."
Wish's knees weakened. Her hands trembled at her sides.
"Yet here you are," the princess continued, her voice rising just enough to carry across the watching crowd, "trying to pry attention from a deity. Are you mad?"
Laughter rippled through the hall, louder now, less restrained. People whispered behind raised hands, pointing, smirking.
Wish looked down in shame, tears threatening to spill again. Why the hell did I have to be reincarnated as this character? If I slap her I might end up in jail, I have to endure all this? Infront of a crowd? I am tired of life just give me death.
The princess reached out suddenly. Her long nails dug into Wish's chin, forcing her face upward roughly. Wish winced at the bite of those perfectly manicured claws against her skin.
"That body," Viya said, voice low and precise, meant only for Wish but somehow carrying anyway, "doesn't deserve divine attention."
"He wouldn't dare look at you twice," another voice added from behind Viya.
The crowd shifted, parting.
The Queen stepped forward, regal and cold. She placed a gloved hand on her daughter's shoulder in approval, the simple gesture radiating pride. The entire room straightened instinctively, spines going rigid.
"He stopped the ritual because of dark magic—nothing else," the Queen continued, her voice smooth as silk and twice as cutting. "If not for that technicality, he wouldn't pay you a single silver of attention."
She looked down at Wish with eyes like frozen lakes.
"My daughter is correct," the Queen said calmly, each word measured. "A puff-fluff fox who forgets her place must be reminded of it."
From somewhere behind Wish, a sob broke free—desperate and raw.
"Please—!"
Her mother stumbled forward, white hair disheveled and falling across her tear-stained face. Her eyes were swollen, red, terrified. She dropped to her knees so hard the sound echoed through the silent hall.
"Please forgive her," she begged, bowing until her forehead struck the stone floor with a sickening thud. "She doesn't understand—she's gentle—she's never hurt anyone—I'm sorry for everything—"
The Queen turned slowly, deliberately. The movement made people step back.
Her gaze was colder than the hall had ever been.
"You."
Wish's mother froze mid-bow, not daring to lift her head.
"Have you no shame?" the Queen continued, her tone sharp enough to draw blood. "You failed as a mother. You raised a daughter who lacks restraint, dignity, and silence."
She stepped closer, her shadow falling over the kneeling woman like a threat.
"You are a disgrace to women."
Wish's chest caved inward. Her breath caught. Her hands curled into fists so tight her nails bit into her palms.
Her mother bowed again, shoulders shaking violently. "Punish me instead—please—take me—I'll do anything—"
The Queen waved her hand dismissively, the gesture elegant and cruel.
"I have no interest in filth begging."
She turned away like the conversation no longer existed.
Viya released Wish's chin with a small shove, making her stumble back. "Control yourself," the princess said, smoothing down her perfect outfit. "You shame our blood."
Wish's tail trembled again—fear, fury, and humiliation tangling together until her body didn't know which emotion to obey.
Then Viya turned gracefully on her heel and walked away, her mother following. Their footsteps echoed through the oppressive silence they left behind.
The moment they disappeared through the doors, Wish's mother scrambled to her feet and rushed forward. She grabbed Wish into a crushing embrace, her body still shaking.
"Don't worry," her mother whispered fiercely against her hair, voice thick with tears and determination. "I'll find you a man. A young man who will take care of you properly."
Her father appeared at her side, his large hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "Yeah, I'll even pay the bride price. No—more like groom price, right?" He tried to laugh but it came out broken. "Anyway, don't cry. Please don't cry."
Wish felt warm despite everything. Despite the burning in her cheek, the ache in her chest, the humiliation crawling across her skin.
Her parents' arms around her felt solid. Real. Like she wasn't completely alone the way she had been in her previous life.
But as she stood there, letting them hold her, a thought crept into her mind.
What is this world I just reincarnated into? Why does it feel familiar?