The morning light spilled through the tall windows like liquid gold, but Sophie had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw King Alexander's face—sharp, unreadable, dangerous. His warning echoed in her mind: I will uncover who you are.
Rolling onto her back, Sophie stared at the canopy above. "I should've just stayed home and watched Netflix," she muttered.
A soft knock broke her thoughts. The door opened and Eira entered, balancing a tray with bread, fruit, and steaming tea.
"Good morning, my lady," she said with a gentle bow.
"Don't call me that," Sophie groaned, sitting up. "I'm not… her."
Eira glanced nervously toward the door before setting the tray on a small table. "Whether you are or not, the palace does not care. To them, you are the Queen returned. And if you wish to survive, you must play the part."
The words settled like stones in Sophie's stomach. Survive. That was the word Eira used.
"Alright," Sophie sighed. "If I'm supposed to be queen, then I should at least know the rules. Starting with—where are we, exactly? And why does everyone look at me like I'm some ghost?"
Eira hesitated, folding her hands before her. "This is Kaelthorne. The Kingdom of Iron and Flame. For five years, it has lived under shadow because its Queen vanished."
Sophie leaned forward. "Vanished how?"
"They say Seraphina walked into the forest beyond the Black Gate and never returned. Some whisper she was taken by dark magic. Others believe she betrayed the King and fled. No one knows for certain. But one thing is true—her absence nearly destroyed him."
Eira's voice softened, as though she pitied the man who ruled them. "His Majesty loved her once. Or at least, he needed her. When she disappeared, he turned colder than stone. Blood was spilled in his name. Enemies grew bold. And now… now you appear."
Sophie swallowed hard. She hadn't asked for this role, but she could feel the weight of it pressing on her shoulders. "So everyone expects me to just… slip back into her life?"
Eira's eyes flickered toward the door again before she leaned closer. "Not everyone believes. There are those who suspect trickery. If they prove you are not Seraphina, they will brand you an impostor. And impostors…"
She didn't finish, but Sophie didn't need her to. The meaning was clear.
"Great," Sophie muttered. "So I'm either a queen or a corpse."
Eira gave her a small, sympathetic smile. "I will help you. But you must be careful."
A knock interrupted them again. This time, it wasn't a gentle one.
The door creaked open and a tall man strode in without invitation. He was lean, with sharp features and eyes that gleamed with ambition. His clothes were finer than most, though not as regal as Alexander's.
"Lord Draven," Eira whispered, quickly lowering her head.
The man's lips curled in a polite but cold smile as he looked Sophie over. "So it's true," he said smoothly. "The Queen has returned."
Sophie stiffened. Something about his tone made her skin prickle.
Draven stepped closer, his gaze sharp and assessing. "You do look like her. Almost perfectly. But looks can be deceiving."
"I—I don't know what you mean," Sophie stammered.
"Oh, I think you do." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "The King may be willing to indulge this charade, but I…" His voice dropped lower. "I will be watching."
With a sharp turn, he swept out of the chamber, leaving the air colder in his wake.
Sophie exhaled shakily. "Friendly guy."
Eira's expression was grave. "Beware of him, my lady. Lord Draven covets power. If he can use you, he will. If he can destroy you, he will not hesitate."
Sophie rubbed her forehead. "So, let me get this straight. I'm supposed to pretend to be a queen, fool a ruthless king, dodge a power-hungry advisor, and somehow not get myself killed?"
"Exactly," Eira said softly.
Sophie groaned. "I need coffee."
Eira tilted her head. "Coffee?"
"Never mind," Sophie muttered, standing. "If I'm going to play queen, then I should at least see this palace."
Eira's lips curved into a faint smile. "Then come. I will show you."
Together, they left the chambers, Sophie's heart thundering in her chest.
The palace was vast and intimidating, with endless corridors of stone, tapestries depicting ancient battles, and guards at every corner. As they walked, Sophie noticed the way people stared—some with awe, some with suspicion, and some with fear. Whispers followed her like shadows.
"Is it truly her?"
"She looks the same, but…"
"Could the Queen have returned?"
Sophie quickened her pace, trying to ignore them. But the weight of their gazes clung to her.
Finally, Eira guided her into a quieter wing of the palace, where the air smelled faintly of dust and disuse.
"This was her wing," Eira whispered. "Seraphina's chambers. Untouched since the day she vanished."
Sophie's breath caught. The room was shrouded in faded curtains and draped furniture, as if frozen in time. She stepped inside slowly, her fingers brushing over a vanity where a silver comb still rested.
It felt wrong. Intimate. Like she was intruding into another woman's life.
On the table lay a small journal, its leather cover cracked with age. Sophie hesitated before reaching for it.
"My lady," Eira whispered urgently, "be careful. If anyone finds you here…"
But Sophie had already opened the journal. The pages were filled with neat handwriting, notes of court affairs, little sketches of flowers… and then, on the final page, a single line written in a hurried scrawl:
"If I disappear, trust no one—not even the King."
The words sent a chill racing down Sophie's spine.
She snapped the journal shut, her heart hammering. For the first time since she arrived, she realized something terrifying.
Maybe this wasn't just a mistake. Maybe falling into this world, being mistaken for Seraphina—it wasn't an accident at all.