I Have Reincarnated Yet Once Again

The first princess of the Cristiane Empire, Evelyn de P. la Cristiane, was a name that stirred whispers in every hall and alley of the empire—not out of admiration, but ridicule. Arrogant. Willful. Selfish. Those were the kinder words used to describe her. She shrieked at her maids for the smallest mistakes. She tore silk gowns just because she didn't like the shade. She ordered her meals to be thrown away simply because they weren’t “imperial enough.” Those who served her walked on eggshells, trembling with fear each day they woke up still assigned to the infamous Black Rose Palace. Black Rose—gilded on the outside, rotting on the inside. The palace farthest from the Imperial Heart, where warmth never reached, neither sunlight nor affection. It was where Evelyn was abandoned. The Empress had never even looked at her child. No one knew why. Throughout the empire, she was mocked and pitied. They called her "The Abandoned Princess," "The Unlucky Princess," and "The Powerless Princess." She was the object of ridicule across the empire. A royal in name only. And then one day, the princess tumbled down the grand staircase of her own neglected palace. A hard fall. A week-long slumber. Some thought it divine punishment, others, a mercy. But when she awoke, something was… different. The palace changed. No. Not the place. The princess. No tantrums. No smashed porcelain. No orders barked in fury. The princess who had terrorized her servants now sat quietly in her chamber, gazing out at the overgrown garden. She sighed a lot. Didn’t speak unless spoken to—and even then, her words were slow, careful, small. She frightened her maids now, not with cruelty, but with calm. The truth was something no one could have imagined. Because the real Evelyn de P. la Cristiane was gone. In her place sat a girl with thousands of years behind her. A girl who remembered. --- She was an infinite reincarnator. Each life, each era, each world—forgotten the moment she died. Until now. The fall down the stairs had been just the right push. It shattered something open. And when she woke up, she remembered everything—her countless pasts, the wars she had fought, the crowns she had worn, the magic she had wielded. She had lived too long. And she was tired. --- Only later did she realize something far more irritating. She had been reincarnating endlessly—over thousands of years—into the world of a reverse harem novel. A trashy reverse harem novel she read don't know how many lifetimes ago. A pretty setting, dramatic plots, an overly righteous heroine—and a pile of desperate male leads. Ugh. She didn’t care. Let the story play out as it wanted. Let the heroine win their hearts. Let the villains fall. She just wanted peace. Solitude. Maybe a quiet death this time. But fate, of course, laughed. --- At first, life was okay. Soon, however, she began attracting unwanted attention. Men who were supposed to fall for the novel’s heroine began showing interest in her instead. At first, she ignored it. But as more and more of them appeared around her, even she started to feel uneasy. The heir to the Grand Duke. The captain of the Shadow Knights. The future master of the Mage Tower. The prince of a desert kingdom. A mysterious, wealthy merchant. The prince of the Elves. And it didn’t stop there. Men she didn’t even remember from the novel. Courtiers. Foreign envoys. One particularly daring priest. Even a villain character she vaguely remembered killing someone in chapter twenty-three. They were all suddenly—unreasonably—interested in her. --- “Logically speaking,” she muttered, pressing her fingers to her temple, “I am older than even your ancestor’s ancestor’s ancestor. So could you all please leave me alone?” She exhaled, exhaustion evident in her eyes. “I’m already tired of this reincarnation nonsense. Don’t make me remember anyone’s name now. I barely remember my own.” The world never gave her peace—nor will it now.