The skies wept the moment she was dragged to the gallows.
Dark clouds coiled over the imperial palace like vipers, thunder crackling above the silent crowd gathered in the courtyard. Every noble, every courtier, every commoner stood in breathless anticipation as the so-called villainess—the once-radiant jewel of House Velora—was shoved to her knees before the execution block.
Seraphina Velora.
Her name had once stirred envy and awe. Now, it incited nothing but disdain.
Drenched in rain, her crimson gown clung to her body, shredded and muddied from days of imprisonment. Her wrists bore bruises where shackles had rubbed raw skin, but her back remained straight. Her spine did not bend.
Even now, she would not give them that.
"You dare hold your head high after what you've done?" spat a minister from the steps. "Poisoning the Empress, conspiring against the Crown Prince—your arrogance knows no limit."
The crowd murmured.
The crown prince stood among them, unmoved. Clad in dark armor, Prince Kaelith Draven watched her with unreadable eyes, silver hair slick from the downpour.
She looked up—straight at him. Her once-vibrant emerald eyes now dulled to jade shadows, but they held fire still. Bitterness. Regret. A flicker of the girl she used to be.
"Tell me, Your Highness," she said, her voice hoarse but clear, "Do you truly believe I did this?"
Kaelith did not flinch. His gloved hands clenched behind his back.
The executioner stepped forward. "Any last words, Lady Velora?"
Seraphina turned her gaze to the crowd—so many faces she once knew. Fake smiles, greedy eyes, snakes wearing silken robes.
She smiled.
"To those who plotted my fall… I'll see you again, very soon."
Then the blade fell.
And the world went dark.
---
Scene Break
She awoke—gasping.
Her lungs filled with air as though for the first time. Sweat clung to her skin, but the cold stone floor beneath her was… familiar. The scent of lilacs wafted from the open window. A soft breeze stirred silk curtains.
She knew this place.
Her chambers. In Velora Manor.
But that was impossible. She was dead. She had died—she remembered the cold steel, the shock in Kaelith's eyes, the cheers of the crowd—
A knock at the door shattered the silence.
"My lady?" came a timid voice. "The Duke is waiting in the drawing room. He says it's time to leave for the palace. The Crown Prince is to make the engagement announcement today."
Seraphina's breath caught.
Engagement?
Her heart thundered.
This was five years ago.
Before it all began.
Before she chased Kaelith like a lovesick fool.
Before she sacrificed everything—her dignity, her allies, her soul.
Before she trusted the wrong people and paid the price with her life.
She gripped the edge of her vanity table, knuckles white.
She wasn't dreaming.
She had returned.
---
Scene Break
By the time she descended the staircase, she was a woman transformed.
Gone was the haughty, over-polished girl who once bathed in compliments and demanded attention. In her place stood a future predator in velvet—quiet, poised, eyes calculating behind long lashes.
Her father, Duke Alaric Velora, barely glanced at her.
"You'll behave today," he said, fixing his gloves. "The Crown Prince's favor is all that matters."
Favor. That word used to make her heart flutter.
Now it tasted like ash.
She met his eyes. "Father. The Crown Prince's favor is fleeting. But our enemies are not."
He blinked, surprised. "You're sounding like your mother."
"I'm sounding like a woman who refuses to die again."
Before he could respond, the carriage pulled up.
---
Scene Break: At the Palace Ball
The ballroom shimmered with candlelight and silk. Nobles twirled in carefully choreographed circles, laughter mingling with the orchestra's waltz.
Then he entered.
Prince Kaelith.
Seraphina froze. Even now, he stole the air from the room.
Tall. Cold. Impeccably dressed in midnight-blue regalia. His presence was commanding, regal—and distant.
He hadn't changed.
Neither had his eyes: winter-gray, emotionless.
When their gazes locked across the ballroom, the world quieted.
She remembered the way he once ignored her. The way he looked at another woman—Evelyne Astor—with rare softness. She remembered how it burned. How she tried so hard to win him… and lost herself instead.
Not this time.
She looked away.
---
Later That Night
Kaelith stood near the terrace, wine untouched.
He noticed her leaving early.
That was unusual. She always lingered, waited for him to speak, laughed a little too loudly.
But now… she was gone without a word.
"Strange," he murmured.
From the shadows, someone else watched: a girl in pale gold.
Lady Evelyne Astor.
"Perhaps the Duke's daughter is finally learning her place," she said sweetly.
Kaelith didn't respond.
But in his chest, something unfamiliar stirred.