How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 695: Frozen Trials 7.5
Chapter 695: Frozen Trials 7.5
Quite honestly, being cheated on—or maybe just feeling like she was being cheated on—had become almost normal for Snow.
It wasn’t that Riley had ever truly betrayed her.
Not in the way most people meant it.
But the feeling?
That quiet sting when she saw another girl look at him a little too long, when he gave someone 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 flame 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 someone 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 time.
But she also wasn’t naïve.
The girls around him weren’t shallow crushes.
They weren’t temporary distractions.
The bonds they formed with Riley were real.
The time 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 something 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 meant 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 some 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 home 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 time 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 someone as understanding as her had a line.
“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 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 something similar before—once in a dream, once in another trial.
The setting was different, the words slightly changed, but the core was the same.
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 moment 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 memories, 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 welcome them if she knew their feelings were sincere.
But what she wanted—what she needed—was something irreplaceable.
Something 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 same way.
Even if she loved him just as fiercely in this moment.
It wasn’t hers.
And Snow refused to let something 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 something 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 some cheap imitation created to test me.
I won’t let a fake version of myself even catch a glimpse of something that took me 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 bloomed 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 something 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.
Something about her felt… heavier.
Real.
She gave them a gentle smile.
Soft.
Polite.
Almost kind.
“I just remembered,” 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 some 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 moment, he was looking at someone who truly belonged to him.
….
Meanwhile, 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 unmelted 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,
Sometimes they exchanged small comments.
Sometimes nothing at all.
“Hmm…”
The Frost Queen’s gaze shifted slightly.
Riley noticed immediately. “Did something 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 mean?”
“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 something 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 meant 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 moment 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 met.
The mirror of light shattered into fragments of frost—
And somewhere within the trial, light bloomed.
