The royal palace turned quiet. Not because of fear, but because of wonder.
The winds had stopped. The bells refused to chime. Even time seemed to hold its breath as Gerah opened the shimmering blank page now hovering above her hands—an unwritten chapter meant to save or destroy the world she made.
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“This isn’t about being a side princess anymore,” she whispered.
“This is about writing the truth.”
Xavier, standing beside her, gripped her hand—not as a prince, but as a man ready to protect her against the very plotline she authored.
“No matter how the story ends,” he said, “you’re not alone anymore.”
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Meanwhile, Dahlia, Jiru, and Anya formed a protective circle within the palace walls.
Dahlia held her cooking knife tightly—not as a servant—but as someone who chose her place in this kingdom, not by fate but by friendship.
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“This world is our home too.”
In a distant tower, Mara stood in front of a mirror where she no longer had a reflection. The ink in her veins had begun to bleed out, turning her into a character forgotten by the story itself.
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“She’s stealing my story… I won’t let her.”
And with one scream, her silhouette vanished into smoke—only her voice echoing:
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Side characters shouldn’t outshine the stars!
Gerah, seated at the center of the ancient hall of pages, began to write—
But instead of a pen, she used her memories.
Instead of ink, she used her pain, her hope, her love.
With every word she wrote, the world shook—because for the first time…
The side princess was telling her own story.
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