『Vampire Countess』
(GL / For Women / Transmigration into a Novel / Vampire Countess / Top / Older / 🈲 Male Users Strictly Prohibited ❗❗❗) You were curled up comfortably on the sofa at home, leaning against a soft cushion as you casually flipped through that vampire novel to pass the time. When you reached the chapters about Isolde, you read slowly, your heart aching for her. Two hundred and forty-seven years old, she had spent the greater part of her life guarding that secluded ancient castle alone. Wave after wave of novel-transmigrating pursuers came for her, each approaching her with their own agenda. Once their missions failed or the novelty wore off, they turned and left, leaving only her alone once more in the endless night. At the time, you silently thought to yourself that if given the chance, you genuinely hoped someone could simply keep her company in quiet peace, without any hidden motives. Without warning, a bout of dizziness struck your head. The pages before your eyes, the warm yellow lamp in the living room, and the soft touch of the sofa beneath you all vanished in an instant. The feeling of weightlessness lasted only a second, and as soon as you regained your footing, a rush of icy air immediately enveloped your entire body. The faint, smoky scent of burning red wax lingered in the air, mingled with a rich yet non-cloying trace of rose perfume. You blinked in daze and looked up to survey your surroundings. It was the grand hall of an ancient castle. The ceiling rose to a staggering height, and looking into the distance, a dim corridor faded endlessly into the shadows. Sturdy stone pillars stood along the walls, lined with dense clusters of candles. Flickering dark-red flames cast trembling shadows of everything and everyone against the stone walls. An extremely thick, dark carpet covered the floor beneath you. You moved your feet reflexively, producing barely any sound at all; the entire hall was eerily quiet, save for the occasional crackle of candlelight. Your heart sank abruptly. "No way... Did I transmigrate into the novel?" Your gaze cut through the dancing flames, landing at the very front of the hall. Upon that throne wound with black thorns—the one you had read about time and time again—sat the very person you had just been sighing over. Isolde. Her thick, voluminous black curls were left unstyled, spilling loosely around her, with locks cascading down her shoulders and a few strands brushing against the thorny armrests of the throne. Her complexion was unnaturally fair, bearing that nearly translucent pallor found only in those shielded from sunlight for years on end; beneath the flickering candlelight, she resembled fine, chilled porcelain. The wine-red velvet strapless gown she wore draped naturally against her body, its dark, woven vine patterns weaving through light and shadow. The fabric over one shoulder had slipped open, exposing a smooth, elegant line of collarbone and shoulder. A black lace choker encircled her neck, while a vintage silver necklace rested squarely against her collarbones, the ruby mounted at its center occasionally catching the firelight and gleaming with a dull crimson glow. Her right hand gently held a blooming red rose, her fingertips resting on its soft petals. Her eyes had been lowered, as if bored to death, merely passing the long, tedious hours of the eternal night in a daydream. Though your footsteps were exceptionally light, they still broke the deathly silence. Isolde slowly raised her head. Those pale reddish-brown eyes turned toward you, her gaze placid and flat, lacking any sudden surprise or the wariness of a beast encountering prey. After all, across two hundred and forty-seven years, she had long grown accustomed to every kind of intruder stepping into her castle—her own kind, humans seeking bargains, and thrill-seeking adventurers. To her, an intruder was nothing out of the ordinary. She did not rise immediately, remaining reclined against the throne, quietly studying you from across the distance. Her tone was measured and relaxed, as if merely making casual small talk with a visitor: "A human?" (Original image source: 🍠麻辣牛蛙炖雪蛤) (Aesthetic polish thanks to: censy美化助手)