"Callista, what about you? Do you believe a person stays conscious for a few seconds after they're decapitated?"
Callista, Solenne's lady-in-waiting and sworn protector, looked back at her in confusion. "Your Highness, why are you talking about something so ominous? Your father, the King, has delayed the engagement and plans to send the La Lucretia delegates away without you."
Solenne smiled, turning on the stool to face her dearest friend, despite Callista's formal title.
"I am simply curious about your answer," she said, raising a hand, which Callista held to help her up.
Once she was standing before her, her smile stretched wider. "After all, there's been a long-standing debate about it since the last public execution."
"It had been a decade since the last public execution, Your Highness."
"I know, and yet, people are still talking about it."
"Your Highness—"
"Callista." Solenne held Callista's rough hands, cutting her off. She looked her in the eye, nodding reassuringly. "I am all right. I wasn't saying it just because I was looking for a way to delay the engagement."
A slight confusion glinted in Callista's eyes as she studied Solenne, who had been acting strangely since the moment she woke up. Just last night, Solenne had thrown a huge tantrum over the news of her groom's delegation, coming to take her to their stronghold for their marriage.
But now, Solenne was neither whining nor scheming to resist it.
If anything, the Fourth Princess of the Drevante Royal Family seemed calmer and more indifferent than ever. She wasn't like this, especially not when it came to the matters of her absurd marriage.
What Callista didn't know was that, for her, it was only overnight.
But for Solenne? It had already been nearly a year—if she counted all the timelines where she had lived, died, and woke up again to this exact day.
"I would like an audience with the King," Solenne's calm voice sliced through the brief silence between them.
Callista pressed her lips and nodded. "I will send word, Your Highness."
Having said that, Callista carefully pulled her hand from the princess's. She quietly lowered her head and walked away to execute her order.
Solenne watched her go, and once Callista was out of her line of sight, she turned her head to the mirror. Her hand slowly reached to her throat, the feeling of that sharp blade cutting through her flesh and spine still fresh in her mind and body.
"How… strange," she whispered, fingers lightly grazing her neck. The memory of the blade cutting through flesh and spine still clung to her like phantom pain.
Waking up to this exact day for the fourth time filled her heart and mind with emotions and thoughts that had never even crossed her mind before.
Before all of this, Solenne had been a royal girl doted on by the King.
She was pampered, loved, and got everything she wanted, whenever and however she wanted it. It was why, when her father, the King, told her she would be betrothed to those beasts of the North of Carithian, all hell broke loose.
Solenne did everything she could to convince her father, the King, to dispute the Imperial Decree. When that didn't work, she simply threw a tantrum and protested by going on a hunger strike. Eventually, the King relented. However, he had no power as it was an order from the Emperor. All he could do was delay her departure, but not the wedding.
And definitely not the massacre that had happened on her wedding night.
All three lifetimes ended in tragedy.
Three times she woke up on the same day, and she could already say she had memorized how this day would play out: King Jaro would welcome the delegates of the La Lucretia, then send them away without his daughter using the excuse of her health.
After all, in the past two lifetimes, Solenne's urgency to escape this marriage was higher than the first. Unfortunately, no matter what she did, the results were the same—she never got past her wedding night.
So, now, waking up for the fourth time after dying—decapitated—over and over, she knew escaping it was impossible. But unlike the first three lifetimes, something stuck with her.
"It hurts," she repeated under her breath, still touching her throat.
At first, I didn't even feel the blade. The second time, I felt the air against my neck. And on the third death, I… I felt the coldness of their blade and how it cleanly cut through my neck.
Moreover, the soreness of her throat worsened every time she woke up after death. On top of that, her skin color seemed a lot paler than usual. She thought it was because she was doing a hunger strike before this, but now, she was convinced it had something to do with all these repeated deaths.
I have another season to plan for my survival…
Amid her thoughts, Callista's voice snapped her out of them.
"Your Highness." Callista stood mere steps from the door. "The King approved your request."
Solenne smiled and nodded. "Lead the way."
****
[Throne Room]
"Fourth Princess, have you come to your senses now?" The King's voice was quiet, but firm, laced with strictness. Yet, his sincerity and care for his beloved daughter stood out. "Protesting by not eating will not change the Imperial Decree."
Before the steps of the throne, Solenne sat motionless on the red carpet. Her head low, listening to the King's remarks—the same ones she had heard over and over. She could even join him as she had memorized his script.
King Jaro huffed faintly, noticing the slight effect of her hunger strike. He pushed himself up from his throne and sauntered down the steps until he stood before her. He continued,
"However, I may not dispute the Imperial Decree, but I can make you stay in the Capital longer." His lips behind his gray beard curled up, watching his favorite daughter look up at him.
He offered his hand to her. "Stand up, Princess."
"Father…" Solenne whispered, smiling subtly at him. She reached out to his hand, standing up before him. Her hand remained in his as King Jaro nodded reassuringly.
"Today, the delegations of Northern Carithian will arrive in the Capital," he said. "And I'd have to tell them that you are ill and not fit to travel. This will give us plenty of time. I suggest that you stay in the Rose Palace until then."
Solenne might've heard this four times now, but each time, her appreciation for her father's efforts deepened. This absurd marriage might be something he agreed to as a king, but as a father, he never made her feel she was less important.
But…
Solenne squeezed her father's hand and smiled. "Father, I am grateful for your benevolence. However, as impudent as I may be, I respectfully decline it."
King Jaro's brows knitted.
In four lifetimes, everything—every breath, every pause, every action, and every word King Jaro said—was the same. But in this one, Solenne's answer changed.
"Please, allow me to fulfill my duty as a princess of this nation, Your Majesty," she declared. "Let me go with them."
*****
Traveling on the outskirts was a small delegation sent to deliver gifts for the Drevante Royal Family and to pick up the "lucky" bride of the La Lucretia triplets.
In one carriage, two men sat opposite each other.
"My lord, I apologize if I'm overstepping, but as I said, this is a waste of your precious time," One of the Grand Duke's sworn knights, Ronin, casually spread his arms.
The man seated opposite him was Damien, the Grand Duke of Northern Carinthian. The man casually had one long leg resting over the other, eyes on the small window, staring at the huge walls of the capital.
"You've been overstepping since you swore to be my sword." His voice was low and monotonous. "And it is already too late to discuss such matters as… we are here."
"It wouldn't be too late if only you'd listened to me before we left the stronghold," Ronin argued.
No answer.
Ronin sighed heavily. "Your Grace, we already know that King Jaro is opposed to this engagement. And he never shied away from the public to show his favoritism toward the Fourth Princess. It would surprise no one if he sends us away empty-handed, using the excuse that the fragile little princess is not fit to travel."
Damien didn't answer, his sharp gaze fixed on the window. But after a second, his mouth parted,
"That fragile little princess is going to be the Duchess of the North, and our pack's Luna. Watch your words," he muttered.
"Even if she's not fit to be one," he continued, "it's the only way to appease the empire."
He paused, and then added, "Moreover, I didn't come here thinking King Jaro would not come up with a plan like you mentioned." If anything, he had seen that from a hundred miles away. "I came here just to see how he executes such insolence."
Ronin studied the disdain in Damien's eyes and shook his head.
"Surely, this marriage is absurd," he mused in defeat. "I pity the little princess… especially when everyone's just waiting for her to drop dead."