The carriage ride back to the duchy was silent.
Serina sat stiffly, her hands folded over her lap, eyes unfocused as moonlight flickered through the carriage windows. The conversation with Prince Lucian replayed in her mind like a haunting melody, each word holding more weight than the last.
A connection? A bond that could change everything?
She didn't trust him. Not anymore. Not after everything in her past life.
He had said similar things before—gentle words laced with poison. She had believed him then. Loved him. Married him.
And he had killed her.
Serina's fingers clenched, nails digging into her gloves until she felt the sting of skin breaking beneath the fabric. No. She wouldn't fall for him again. This wasn't a tale of redemption. It was one of revenge.
She would burn his perfect world down and smile as he begged her to stay.
But that didn't mean she could afford to act recklessly. Every move she made from now on had to be deliberate—every glance, every smile, every silence. She would play the role of the perfect duchess's daughter, the dutiful noblewoman. A harmless beauty. A clever socialite. Nothing more.
The real Serina—the one who remembered her death, her betrayal, her rage—would remain hidden behind her painted mask.
---
Back at the duchy, the estate was quiet. Lanterns glowed softly along the garden paths, casting golden light over marble statues and blooming nightshade. Lila waited for her at the front doors, concern etched into her brows.
"Did the dinner go well, my lady?" she asked gently, helping Serina out of the carriage.
Serina gave a tired smile. "It was… enlightening."
That was all she said as they walked back through the grand halls of her home. The scent of polished wood and rosewater filled the air, grounding her in the present. This was her new life. This time, she would write her own ending.
---
The next morning, news spread like wildfire.
"The prince dines with Duke Elowen's daughter—twice in one week!"
"Speculation grows: is Serina to be the future princess?"
"The engagement contract may be revived…"
The headlines made her sick. She wasn't sure if the rumors were planted by Lucian himself or simply the feverish dreams of gossip-hungry nobles, but the result was the same: attention.
All eyes turned toward her.
But she wasn't the only one under scrutiny.
Princess Irelia had returned to the capital.
Serina saw her for the first time at a royal banquet two days later.
She was radiant—silver-blonde hair braided over one shoulder, pale lavender eyes sharp with intellect and quiet grace. Her posture was flawless, her steps measured and confident. She wore armor of silk and steel, diplomacy and poise. A perfect royal daughter.
But what struck Serina most wasn't her beauty.
It was how Irelia looked at her.
Not with scorn. Not with suspicion.
But with interest.
Serina's heart skipped. She kept her smile neutral, lowering her eyes as etiquette demanded. But something in her stirred—a flicker of curiosity, a quiet challenge.
Let the prince think this was his story.
Let the court believe she was just a pawn.
But this time, Serina wasn't here to marry the prince.
She was here to steal everything from him—including the future he was supposed to have with Irelia.
And maybe—just maybe—give that future to herself.