When she looked around, she found herself in an opulent banquet hall, with elegantly dressed strangers gathered all around her. Holding champagne flutes, they watched her as though enjoying a spectacle.
"What an embarrassment. Princess Cathy is practically begging for Mr. Campbell's attention."
"See that present he tossed onto the floor and crushed underfoot? Isn't it an exceptionally rare blue diamond?"
"And what difference does that make?" another guest said sneeringly, slowly swirling a drink. "Mr. Campbell needs a female whose pheromones can calm him, not a handful of worthless stones! His heart belongs to Princess Melody. What chance does Cathy think she has?"
"Well, what else can anyone expect from a female who hasn't even awakened her pheromones?"
Cathy looked at the speakers in confusion. What on earth were they discussing? Why did everyone keep addressing her as Princess Cathy? And why was everyone talking about pheromones in the first place?
Suddenly, unfamiliar memories rushed into her mind, bringing such intense pain that she nearly cried out.
Damn it.
Somehow, she had been transported into the novel she had read just last night-a story about interstellar werecreatures-and had occupied the body of a villainess with her own name.
The population in this universe was wildly disproportionate, with just one female for every ninety billion males.
The old "Cathy" was born into the Holy Starshine Empire's legitimate royal bloodline. By all rights, the entire universe should have cherished and pampered her. Yet her inability to awaken her pheromones had instead earned her widespread disdain.
According to the story, the old "Cathy" had been obsessively chasing after Lachlan Campbell, although his affections were reserved entirely for her younger sister, Melody Jenkins.
At Lachlan's birthday celebration tonight, the old "Cathy" was destined to pursue him so persistently that she would make a complete fool of herself before everyone.
Eventually, Lachlan would poison the old "Cathy" to secure Melody's rise to power.
Standing in front of her, Lachlan wore a showy, deep-red formal suit. Her lowered head and unwillingness to answer him only made him look down on her more. He deliberately spoke louder, eager to demonstrate to the assembled nobles just how completely he controlled the princess. "You've wrecked my birthday celebration. Do you honestly expect me to forgive you just because you apologized?"
He stopped briefly, letting his words sink in. "All right, then. Kneel and plead for my forgiveness. If I'm feeling generous afterward, perhaps I'll grant you a single date."
For a moment, the entire banquet hall fell quiet.
With hundreds of people staring at her, Cathy at last lifted her head. One eyebrow rose, and her beautiful face showed neither warmth nor the slightest hint of fear, as she slowly advanced a step toward him.
"W-what do you think you're doing?" Lachlan felt inexplicably uneasy at the sudden change in her demeanor. Wasn't she supposed to be helpless? Why did her presence suddenly intimidate him?
Without changing her expression, Cathy fixed her gaze on him and abruptly slapped his face.
The smack resounded throughout the banquet hall. She had struck him with every ounce of strength she possessed, knocking him off balance.
Lachlan's cheek quickly swelled, leaving the distinct marks of her fingers. He faced her again, holding his cheek in disbelief. "How dare you slap me?"
Previously, even his worst insults had never prompted her to speak up in her own defense. Yet here she was, slapping him with the entire gathering watching.
"I slapped you, and that's that. What are you gonna do about it?" Cathy flexed her sore hand before looking at him with undisguised disgust.
"Cathy!" Lachlan barked between tightly clenched teeth.
The nobles' jeers behind him felt almost like a second slap across his face.
Furious beyond restraint, Lachlan launched an attack using his spiritual power.
A startled gasp swept through the crowd.
But before the assault could do her serious harm, a subtle cedar fragrance spread through the room.
Everyone went still. That scent clearly signaled the awakening of spiritual power.
An immense surge of energy then burst outward from Cathy.
Lachlan's expression gradually turned to outright horror. What on earth was going on? Why could he no longer summon his spiritual power?
The force radiating from Cathy kept pushing against him until the pressure seemed to reach his very soul.
Her high heels made crisp clicking sounds against the crystal-tiled floor. "You expect me to kneel down and beg? Who exactly do you think you are, Lachlan Campbell? I'm a royal princess, and you have no right to demand that I kneel before you."
Bending toward him, she seized his chin firmly. Her long, wavy red hair fell across her collarbones. Now that her ingratiating expression was gone, her stunning face seemed even more captivating.
Her spiritual power pressed harder and harder against Lachlan until he could no longer endure it, and his spiritual self finally gave way.
Following a harsh, drawn-out hiss, Lachlan abruptly reverted to the form of an enormous gray-green lizard and crumbled down on the floor. Panicking, he shed part of his tail, which twisted and thrashed against the polished crystal floor.
In disgust, Cathy took a silk handkerchief from a nearby server's tray and thoroughly wiped her hands. "So all this time, you were nothing more than a lizard. How revolting."
She casually tossed the handkerchief onto his severed tail and left the banquet hall.
The assembled nobles remained speechless with shock, hardly daring even to breathe.