How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 695: Frozen Trials 7.5
Previously on How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game...
To be frank, the sensation of being betrayed—or perhaps just suspecting it—had grown nearly commonplace for Snow.
It wasn't as if Riley had ever genuinely betrayed her.
Not in the typical sense that others might imply.
But that emotion?
The subtle ache that surfaced whenever she caught another girl gazing at him a bit too intently, or when he directed that uncommon, gentle look toward someone else?
Such moments occurred far more frequently than she cared to acknowledge.
During their early days of dating, she had already recognized the type of person he was.
Riley drew people in effortlessly.
Not through any deliberate effort.
Not by flirting or boasting.
He merely existed, and others were pulled toward him naturally.
His steady power, that enigmatic stoic demeanor, the subdued manner in which he managed situations—it lured them like a light piercing the shadows.
And Snow was fully aware of her role.
She wasn't oblivious.
She realized she hadn't 'secured' him because she was uniquely qualified.
She had just been the initial one to approach him.
The first to pierce through his barriers.
The first to cause that icy, impassive face to fracture.
The first to draw a softened gaze from him toward another.
And she took pride in that achievement.
Proud of being the one who had bypassed his defenses.
Proud of witnessing facets of him that remained hidden from others back then.
Yet she wasn't foolish either.
The women surrounding him weren't mere superficial infatuations.
They weren't fleeting diversions.
The connections they forged with Riley held genuine weight.
The moments they shared, the joint struggles, the shared joy, the hushed conversations—it all held significance.
Snow understood this more deeply than anyone.
She couldn't even pretend that Riley's focus remained exclusively on her at all times.
Alice served as the most evident illustration.
The manner in which Riley regarded Alice—with unusual tenderness, patience, a distinct protectiveness—it was impossible for Snow to overlook.
It went beyond mere courtesy.
It was fondness.
True fondness.
And it stung.
Not sufficiently to shatter her resolve.
But enough to underscore that she could never wholly possess him.
Not in this realm.
Not given the nature of who he was.
Riley didn't fully belong to any single individual.
Not entirely.
He bore too great a burden.
He signified too much—not only to her, but to all those in his orbit.
Thus, Snow adjusted accordingly.
If preventing others from caring for him proved impossible... she would instead guide the form that affection took.
That's why the harem strategy wasn't a reckless dream stemming from doubt.
It was calculated.
It was acknowledgment.
It was her method of remaining central regardless of how many entered his world.
It wouldn't signify how many women Riley might one day bring into their lives.
As long as his love for them was authentic.
As long as they weren't passing fancies.
As long as she could stand alongside them without resentment or competition consuming her.
Because ultimately... the majority of his initial experiences remained hers.
His first declaration of love.
His first moment of vulnerability.
His first authentic smile.
Those elements were irreplaceable.
And Snow clung to that reality with unyielding grip.
It was the sole anchor keeping her balanced.
Nevertheless... boundaries existed.
Even for someone as tolerant as her, there was a threshold.
"Uhm... Miss Innkeeper, we’re willing to pay extra—no, three times—no, ten times the price. We just need a place to stay for the night..."
"Unacceptable."
Snow released a soft exhale while observing the mildly confused look on her partner's face.
Or rather... on the Riley positioned before her.
Encounters like this weren't unfamiliar.
She had encountered a comparable situation previously—once within a vision, once during another challenge.
The environment varied, the phrasing altered slightly, yet the essence remained unchanged.
Temptation.
A trial.
A reflection.
Even so... prior knowledge didn't ease the difficulty.
For the figure confronting her wasn't merely an illusory Riley.
It was an illusory Snow as well.
A version of herself as an innkeeper—serene, poised, lightly teasing him.
The posture of her folded arms.
The brief softening of her gaze as he implored.
The way she prolonged the exchange simply to relish his discomfort.
It was unmistakably her.
And she understood her own tendencies well enough to predict the outcome.
Should she permit it, that iteration of Snow would ultimately 'advance'.
She would feign hesitation, compel him to persist... then guide him to the upper level with that subtle grin reserved for him alone.
And upon shutting the door?
She would likely consume him throughout the evening.
Snow tightened her jaw faintly.
I hate this...
Indeed, she recognized this as merely a fabricated scene from the trial.
Indeed, she knew the Riley and Snow before her lacked authenticity.
Rationally, there was no cause for feeling endangered.
It was simply a duplicate of her.
If anything, it ought to have been innocuous. Wasn't it still Snow expressing love for Riley?
So why did it unsettle her so profoundly?
Riley with other women was tolerable.
She could endure that.
She had already embraced that reality.
Provided the emotions were genuine. Provided the ties were sincere. Provided it avoided superficiality or coercion.
That was her stipulation.
That was the boundary she imposed on herself.
But this instance?
This differed entirely.
The underlying truth here was fabricated.
The sentiments were predetermined.
The closeness that would develop between them in this setup... it stemmed not from mutual recollections, mutual suffering, mutual development.
It was contrived.
And that was the singular aspect she could not tolerate.
She could voluntarily share Riley.
She could position herself next to other women who genuinely adored him.
She could even grin and embrace them if their affections proved honest.
But what she desired—what she required—was something inimitable.
Something exclusively hers.
A love originating from authenticity.
A bond forged via all they had weathered jointly.
Not a bypass.
Not a contrived event.
Not an iteration of herself who hadn't traversed trials alongside him.
Even if that Snow appeared indistinguishable.
Even if she communicated identically.
Even if her love burned with equal intensity in that instant.
It wasn't genuine to her.
And Snow would not permit an artificial entity to seize a love meant to be authentic.
Her bond with Riley transcended mere fondness.
It encompassed their shared past.
Their wounds.
Being the one who remained by his side initially when he hit his depths.
If this challenge demanded she witness another 'Snow' forge something profound with him in a single evening... then it utterly misunderstood her.
For she would prefer to shatter the deception—
Than permit a counterfeit self to flourish in her stead.
Riley is mine...
Regardless of the realm.
Regardless of the vision.
Regardless of the illusion or distorted reality.
Riley is mine.
The affection I harbor for him... it is his alone.
Not for a duplicate.
Not for a setup.
Not for some inexpensive facsimile devised to challenge me.
I won’t allow a simulated self to even glimpse what I constructed through hardship and sacrifice.
That resolute notion settled within her heart like unyielding steel.
Her doubt vanished.
With composed determination, Snow raised her eyes and regarded the two puzzled forms ahead.
The simulated pair.
The simulated Riley.
The simulated Snow.
She tucked a lock of ebony hair behind her ear, methodically and intentionally.
Beyond the window, the city pulsed with energy.
It was the eve of celebration.
Sounds of melody wafted along the avenues—rhythms of percussion, bursts of mirth, far-off exclamations.
Explosions of pyrotechnics ignited overhead, casting hues upon the rooftops.
Lanterns oscillated softly with the breeze.
Lunar glow cascaded from the heavens, pale and chill, filtering through the inn’s ajar pane and delicately illuminating her silhouette.
She was attired in the unadorned garb of an inn attendant.
Basic attire.
An apron fastened casually around her midsection.
No celestial radiance.
No commanding aura.
Her ethereal allure had faded.
She appeared commonplace.
Nearly unremarkable.
But her deep brown gaze...
It gleamed.
Not from might.
Not from godliness.
But from something infinitely more perilous.
Conviction.
The Riley and Snow facing her both expanded their eyes marginally.
Not due to her look—but owing to the alteration in her aura.
An element of her presence now felt... weightier.
Authentic.
She offered them a tender grin.
Gentle.
Courteous.
Almost benevolent.
"I just remembered," she remarked casually, her tone even and firm. "All the rooms are taken."
She inclined her head subtly.
"Unless you two want to spend the night with some strangers, I suggest you leave."
Her grin persisted.
"Now......"
"Get the fuck out of my face."
The phrasing was vulgar.
Direct.
Utterly incongruous with her demeanor.
And still—
Even within that temporary, unexceptional form... she radiated beauty.
The devotion.
The simulated Snow sensed it initially.
A subtle quiver coursed through her frame.
Followed by Riley.
He fixed his stare on her for an extra beat.
Not upon her features.
But upon her eyes.
As though, briefly, he beheld someone who was truly his.
....
In the meantime, returning to the Frozen Castle.
Technical Banquet Hall.
The vast room remained hushed save for the subtle snapping of ice spreading over the stone walls.
Elongated crystal tables lay undisturbed, utensils immobilized by frost, chalices brimming with solid ice rather than liquid.
Overhead, frost-crafted chandeliers dangled like ensnared celestial bodies.
At the heart of the scene reclined the Frost Queen.
Opposite her, Riley.
The pair had shared this quiet companionship for some time.
A slender luminous pane hovered between them—displaying Snow’s ordeal with flawless detail. Each utterance. Each look. Each emotional fluctuation.
But only the Frost Queen could perceive it fully,
Occasionally they traded brief remarks.
Occasionally, utter silence prevailed.
"Hmm..."
The Frost Queen’s attention adjusted faintly.
Riley detected it at once. "Did something happen?"
She held her response. Her glacial azure eyes tightened slightly as she examined the vision.
"An unforeseen response..."
Riley’s brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"It appears your cherished one enjoys the trial I crafted..." she hesitated briefly. "No. Perhaps despises it. I’m not completely certain."
Riley’s features grew intense. "Please explain."
The Frost Queen at last met his gaze squarely.
"Do not become ruffled," she stated evenly. "She is well. It is merely that I might require adjusting the trial’s core element. Your partner—my successor—seems more resolute than I expected."
"Huh...?"
"Well," she reclined marginally in her frozen seat, draping one graceful leg atop the other, "that alone proves intriguing. Perhaps I should merely permit her to proceed."
Riley’s eyes widened.
"Did Snow complete the second trial already?"
He was eager for Snow’s resolution.
The Frost Queen’s mouth quirked subtly.
"It would be hard to deem her the 'precise solution' to the framework I devised," she conceded. "But... her choice stands out as distinctive."
Her gaze reverted to the hovering depiction of Snow beneath the lunar light.
"I like it."
A hint of entertainment colored her voice now.
"A successor need not mirror her forerunner exactly. In truth, that would prove dull. The icy throne isn't intended to yield duplicates."
She propped her chin delicately upon her gloved palm.
"It appears she might already be treading a route surpassing mine."
Riley regarded her, evidently perplexed.
"Surpassing you... in what manner?"
The Frost Queen disregarded the bewilderment in his tone.
Her focus remained on Snow a beat longer—on the assurance in her gaze, on the ownership she boldly asserted, on her dismissal of an empty facsimile of affection.
Then she nodded silently to herself.
"Yes... that suffices."
She lifted her hand.
A keen, clear crack resounded across the banquet chamber as her digits connected.
The luminous pane fragmented into icy shards—
And deep within the trial, radiance erupted.
