How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 695: Frozen Trials 7.5

Quite honestly, being cheated on—or maybe just feeling like she was being cheated on—had beco almost normal for Snow.

It wasn’t that Riley had ever truly betrayed her.

Not in the way most people ant it.

But the feeling?

That quiet sting when she saw another girl look at him a little too long, when he gave soone else that rare, soft expression?

That happened more often than she liked to admit.

Back then, when they first started dating, she already knew what kind of man he was.

Riley attracted people.

Not because he tried.

Not because he flirted or showed off.

He simply existed, and people gravitated toward him.

His calm strength, that unreadable stoic face, the quiet way he handled things—it drew others in like a fla in the dark.

And Snow understood her position.

She wasn’t blind.

She knew she hadn’t "won" because she was the only one capable.

She had simply been the first to reach him.

The first to break through that wall.

The first to make that cold, unreadable expression crack.

The first to make him look at soone and soften.

And she was proud of that.

Proud that she had been the one to slip past his guard.

Proud that she had seen parts of him no one else had at the ti.

But she also wasn’t naïve.

The girls around him weren’t shallow crushes.

They weren’t temporary distractions.

The bonds they ford with Riley were real.

The ti they spent together, the shared battles, the laughter, the quiet talks—it all mattered.

Snow knew that better than anyone.

Even she couldn’t deny that Riley’s attention wasn’t always solely hers.

Alice was the clearest example of that.

The way Riley treated Alice—gentler than usual, patient, protective in a different way—it wasn’t sothing Snow could pretend not to see.

It wasn’t just kindness.

It was affection.

Real affection.

And it hurt.

Not enough to break her.

But enough to remind her that she could never fully monopolize him.

Not in this world.

Not with the kind of man he was.

Riley didn’t belong to one person.

Not completely.

He carried too much.

He ant too much—not just to her, but to everyone around him.

So Snow adapted.

If she couldn’t stop others from loving him... then she would control the shape of that love.

That was why the harem plan wasn’t so wild fantasy born from insecurity.

It was strategy.

It was acceptance.

It was her way of staying at the center no matter how many people entered his life.

It wouldn’t matter how many girls Riley brought ho one day.

As long as he truly loved them.

As long as they weren’t temporary.

As long as she could stand beside them without disgust or rivalry eating her alive.

Because at the end of the day... most of his firsts were already hers.

His first confession.

His first ti lowering his guard.

His first real smile.

Those things couldn’t be replaced.

And Snow held onto that truth tightly.

It was the only thing that kept her steady.

But even then... there were limits.

Even soone as understanding as her had a line.

"Uhm... Miss Innkeeper, we’re willing to pay extra—no, three tis—no, ten tis the price. We just need a place to stay for the night..."

"Unacceptable."

Snow let out a quiet breath as she looked at the slightly bewildered expression on her lover’s face.

Or at least... the Riley standing in front of her.

This kind of scenario wasn’t new.

She had gone through sothing similar before—once in a dream, once in another trial.

The setting was different, the words slightly changed, but the core was the sa.

Temptation.

A test.

A mirror.

Still... knowing that didn’t make it easier.

Because what stood before her wasn’t just a fake Riley.

It was a fake Snow too.

An innkeeper version of herself—calm, composed, teasing him lightly.

The way she crossed her arms.

The way her eyes softened for just a second when he pleaded.

The way she dragged the mont out just to enjoy watching him squirm.

It was her.

And she knew herself well enough to know what would happen next.

If she allowed it, that version of Snow would eventually "push forward."

She would pretend to be reluctant, make him work for it... then lead him upstairs with that faint smirk she only showed him.

And once the door closed?

She’d probably devour him the entire night.

Snow clenched her jaw slightly.

I hate this...

Yes, she knew this was just a scenario created by the trial.

Yes, she knew the Riley and Snow in front of her weren’t real.

Logically, there was no reason to feel threatened.

It was just a copy of herself.

If anything, it should’ve been harmless. It was still Snow loving Riley, wasn’t it?

So why did it bother her so much?

Riley being with other girls was one thing.

She could tolerate that.

She had already accepted that much.

As long as the feelings were real. As long as the bonds were genuine. As long as it wasn’t shallow or forced.

That was her condition.

That was the rule she set for herself.

But this?

This was different.

The truth behind it was fake.

The emotions were scripted.

The intimacy that would bloom between them in this scenario... it wasn’t built from shared mories, shared pain, shared growth.

It was manufactured.

And that was the one thing she couldn’t accept.

She could willingly share Riley.

She could stand beside other girls who truly loved him.

She could even smile and welco them if she knew their feelings were sincere.

But what she wanted—what she needed—was sothing irreplaceable.

Sothing that belonged only to her.

A love born from truth.

A connection built through everything they had endured together.

Not a shortcut.

Not a scenario.

Not a version of herself that hadn’t walked through fire with him.

Even if that Snow looked identical.

Even if she spoke the sa way.

Even if she loved him just as fiercely in this mont.

It wasn’t hers.

And Snow refused to let sothing artificial claim a love that was supposed to be real.

Her love with Riley wasn’t just about affection.

It was about history.

About scars.

About being the one who stood there first when he was at his lowest.

If this trial wanted her to watch another "Snow" build sothing special with him overnight... then it truly didn’t understand her at all.

Because she would rather break the illusion—

Than allow a false version of herself to bloom in her place.

Riley is mine...

No matter which world.

No matter which dream.

No matter which fantasy or twisted version of reality.

Riley is mine.

The love I carry for him... it belongs to him alone.

Not to a copy.

Not to a scenario.

Not to so cheap imitation created to test .

I won’t let a fake version of myself even catch a glimpse of sothing that took blood and tears to build.

That quiet thought settled in her chest like iron.

Her hesitation disappeared.

With calm resolve, Snow lifted her gaze and looked at the two bewildered figures standing before her.

The fake lovers.

The fake Riley.

The fake Snow.

She brushed a strand of black hair behind her ear, slow and deliberate.

Outside, the city was alive.

It was festival night.

Music drifted through the streets—drums, laughter, distant cheers.

Sparks of fireworks blood in the sky, scattering color across the rooftops.

Lanterns swayed gently in the wind.

Moonlight poured down from above, silver and cold, slipping through the inn’s open window and resting softly against her figure.

She wore the plain clothes of an inn girl now.

Simple fabric.

An apron tied loosely at her waist.

No divine aura.

No overwhelming presence.

Her goddess-like beauty was gone.

She looked ordinary.

Almost forgettable.

But her dark brown eyes...

They shone.

Not with power.

Not with divinity.

But with sothing far more dangerous.

Certainty.

The Riley and Snow in front of her both widened their eyes slightly.

Not because of her appearance—but because of the shift in her presence.

Sothing about her felt... heavier.

Real.

She gave them a gentle smile.

Soft.

Polite.

Almost kind.

"I just rembered," she said lightly, her voice calm, steady. "All the rooms are taken."

She tilted her head just a little.

"Unless you two want to spend the night with so strangers, I suggest you leave."

Her smile didn’t fade.

"Now......"

"Get the fuck out of my face."

The words were crude.

Blunt.

Completely out of place compared to her expression.

And yet—

Even in that borrowed, average body... she was beautiful.

The love.

The fake Snow felt it first.

A faint tremble ran down her spine.

Then Riley.

He stared at her for a second longer than necessary.

Not at her face.

But at her eyes.

As if, for just a mont, he was looking at soone who truly belonged to him.

....

anwhile, back at the Frozen Castle.

Technical Banquet Hall.

The massive chamber was silent except for the faint crackling of frost crawling along the marble walls.

Long tables of crystal stood untouched, silverware frozen in place, goblets filled with unlted ice instead of wine.

Above, chandeliers made of pure frost hung like captured stars.

At the center of it all sat the Frost Queen.

Across from her, Riley.

The two of them had been together in silence for a while now.

Between them floated a thin mirror of light—showing Snow’s trial in perfect clarity. Every word. Every expression. Every shift in emotion.

But only the Frost Queen could see through,

Sotis they exchanged small comnts.

Sotis nothing at all.

"Hmm..."

The Frost Queen’s gaze shifted slightly.

Riley noticed imdiately. "Did sothing happen?"

She didn’t answer right away. Her icy blue eyes narrowed just a little as she studied the image.

"An unexpected reaction..."

Riley frowned. "What do you an?"

"It seems your beloved likes the trial I made..." she paused faintly. "No. Perhaps loathes it. I’m not entirely sure."

Riley’s expression sharpened. "Please explain."

The Frost Queen finally looked at him directly.

"Do not get agitated," she said calmly. "She is fine. It is simply that I may need to readjust the trial’s key. Your lover—my heir—appears to be more stubborn than I anticipated."

"Huh...?"

"Well," she leaned back slightly in her chair of ice, crossing one elegant leg over the other, "that in itself is interesting. Perhaps I should simply let her pass."

Riley blinked.

"Did Snow finish the second trial already?"

He was curious about Snow’s answer.

The Frost Queen’s lips curved just a little.

"It would be difficult to call her the ’correct answer’ to the concept I designed," she admitted. "But... what she chose is unique."

Her eyes returned to the floating image of Snow standing under the moonlight.

"I like it."

There was sothing almost amused in her tone now.

"An heir does not need to be a direct copy of her predecessor. In fact, that would be boring. The throne of frost is not ant to produce replicas."

She rested her chin lightly on her gloved hand.

"It seems she may already be walking a path beyond mine."

Riley stared at her, clearly not following.

"Beyond you... how?"

The Frost Queen ignored the confusion in his voice.

Her attention lingered on Snow for a mont longer—on the certainty in her eyes, on the possessiveness she refused to deny, on the way she rejected a hollow imitation of love.

Then she nodded quietly to herself.

"Yes... that is acceptable."

She raised her hand.

A sharp, crisp snap echoed through the banquet hall as her fingers t.

The mirror of light shattered into fragnts of frost—

And sowhere within the trial, light blood.