I still recall the exact second I passed away.
Warm blood saturated my silk robe; the jeweled neckline torn by a blade intended for someone else.
I remember the crowd shouting.
The emperor's far-off shout.
And betrayal's weight pushes more than any wound.
Then—nothing.
only silence.
Cold. Unending.
Up till I opened my eyes.
I was not reclining on the marble ballroom's imperial floor any anymore.
I was in a luxurious bed, draped in silk curtains, inhaling air perfumed with lavender.
My heart pounded. My palms shook.
This is...my old room.
Five years ago, though, it burned down.
I froze as I stumbled toward the mirror.
The face staring back was one I had not seen in decades.
Seventeen.
War, heartbreak… or death have not touched
I was not dreaming.
I had come back to life.
A gentle knock at the door.
"Milady? The duke's carriage has arrived."
Duke Ravencourt.
my prospective husband. My once-again executioner.
The guy they used to refer to as the Villain of the North.
I was also about to get married once more.
I wouldn't run this time, though.
I wouldn't seek concealment.
This time I would reorganize everything.
Even if it meant making him fall in love with me—
before I judge whether to pardon him... or kill him.