1 : The Tsundere, The Prince, And The Voices Of... -

Elara’s life was a constant battle of trying to ignore the horny and judgmental ghosts of her lineage while maintaining her "cool and distant" persona.

The breaking point came during the Royal Ball. Julian, looking unfairly handsome in midnight blue, cornered her onto the balcony. "Elara," he sighed, "why do you treat me like a common cold? If you hate the match, just say so."

Elara turned crimson. "My... my seamstress. She’s very loud. In my head. I mean—I’m tired!" 1 : The Tsundere, the Prince, and the Voices of...

These weren't ghostly whispers of wisdom; they were a rowdy peanut gallery of former queens who lived inside her head. When Julian offered her a hand to help her onto her horse, Elara would snap, "I have legs, Julian, use yours to walk away."

“Kiss him or I’ll haunt your dreams with images of soggy porridge!” Martha threatened. Elara’s life was a constant battle of trying

The mental cacophony became so loud that Elara clutched her head and accidentally blurted out, "SHUT UP, MARTHA!" The balcony went silent. Julian blinked. "Who is Martha?"

Inside her head, the ancestors went nuclear. “TELL HIM HE LOOKS LIKE A GOD,” Martha roared. “APOLOGIZE!” Catherine screamed. "Elara," he sighed, "why do you treat me like a common cold

"I am not flustered, I am overheated!" she barked, even as Julian took her hand.