[Lady Miren's POV]
The candlelight flickered across the polished surface of the mirror, casting her reflection in gold and shadow.
She remembered another night like this. Another room. Another face in the mirror — younger, softer, more trusting. The woman who had been wife to a prince.
Her lips curled faintly, not in amusement but in something colder.
The first time, she had believed the title was armor.
She had been wrong.
---
Miren had entered that marriage with quiet dignity. Kael had been distant even then — not unkind, but guarded, as if every word he spoke cost him something. She had told herself it was only his nature, that he simply did not wear his affections like other men.
And perhaps she would have kept believing that… if Lady Serina had not appeared.
It began with harmless encounters. The prince and Serina meeting at court events. Smiling conversations in the gardens. She had thought nothing of it — until the distance between her and Kael grew wider.
But what she hadn't known was that he loved her. Even now, she was not sure if the knowledge would have saved them. Kael had loved her in silence, without the warmth or reassurance she had needed, and in that silence, Serina had planted her seeds.
---
The treason charge had been Serina's masterstroke.
Miren could still feel the cold weight of the chains around her wrists, the heavy hush of the trial chamber, the sick, suffocating betrayal.
She had been accused of conspiring with foreign powers. Every "evidence" — manufactured. Every witness — bought.
The day she was led to the execution grounds, Kael had been away on a diplomatic journey. She'd thought, foolishly, that perhaps he hadn't cared enough to return.
Only after death had she learned the truth — he had ridden back as soon as he heard, too late to save her. He had never taken another wife. Never touched another woman. His celibacy had been his grief carved into years.
And now… she was here again.
---
Miren's gaze drifted from the mirror to the open balcony doors, the cold air brushing her cheek.
In this life, she would not be the silent wife waiting for love that never came in words. She would be the storm no one could frame, the blade no one could dull.
If Kael loved her again — fine. If he did not — also fine. She would not waste this second life on waiting.
And if Serina tried to play her games again…
Miren's fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass until it nearly crack
ed.
This time, the ending would be different.