I Swallowed the Divorce Papers to Beat the Doomsday Clock

An ordinary morning in the Qalani Empire goes horribly wrong when I wake up, sip my jasmine tea, and gag on the phantom taste of the poisoned wine that just killed me. I’ve regressed to the exact morning I forced my arranged husband - Kholgai, the terrifying Warlord of the Vorakh Steppes - to sign our divorce papers. There is just one problem omitted from all the rebirth myths: my soul is actively decaying. I have exactly sixty days before I evaporate into cosmic dust. The only cure? The ambient spiritual radiation emitted exclusively by Kholgai’s bloodline. To survive my unmentioned time limit, I must immediately pivot from icy aristocrat to a shamelessly clingy wife. I stalk Kholgai with deadpan flattery, using his terrifying reputation as a meat-shield while I quietly and ruthlessly orchestrate the horrific downfall of the chancellor who murdered me. Kholgai, accustomed to my absolute disdain, is increasingly flustered by my unblinking, aggressive affection. Even my worst social rival thinks I’ve snapped and decides to help me out of sheer pity. But as the clock ticks down and my revenge nears completion, will my parasitic fake-flirting actually keep me from dissolving?