Before Veronica stood a colossal tree, taller than a castle tower, its bark shimmering like stained glass soaked in rainbows. Every leaf on its branches was a different color, glowing softly, each leaf taking turns showing off its colors. At its base yawned a hollow, a tunnel pulsing with radiant light.
"So, this is it?" Veronica asked.
"Yesss," hissed Syrethe. He coiled around her shoulders. "I told you. The Heart of the World sssleeps within. The tree of ancient spiritsss. The trial awaitsss."
Veronica folded her arms. "And I just pass its test and claim the Worldheart? That easy?"
Syrethe laughed, a dry, slithering sound. "Yesss. Though I prefer to ask for itsss protection, not claim. But semanticsss, mm?"
She smirked. "Please. You really take me for a snake?"
"Coulda fooled me," he teased.
"Gods above. Let's just get this over with."
"Letsss."
They stepped into the glowing hollow tree.
Inside, the world turned quiet, too quiet. The core of the tree held a sphere of light suspended in the air, pulsing like a slow heartbeat. Syrethe bowed his head reverently.
"Oh, great ssspirit of the Tree," he whispered. "She isss ready."
Veronica cleared her throat, hesitating only for a breath.
"I am Veronica Venenatus," she said. "Chosen by the Gods. I seek your trial. And through it, the right to protect the Worldheart."
The orb pulsed brighter.
Then.
FLASH.
****
She gasped.
And blinked.
She stood in a ballroom.
A gown clung tight to her waist. Her hair, short. Just the way he liked it. The curls were pinned delicately, not a trace of rebellion. A mirror nearby showed a face touched in soft rouge and false smiles.
No, this…
She knew this moment.
Knew the music playing in the distance.
Knew the way her stomach curled.
This is the night me and Theo made love but more than that, this was before…
Before death.
Before her second life.
She clutched her dress.
No. No, this isn't real. This is the trial.
And she was back where it all began.
When she became a villain.
Then she felt it. The pages turned. Her mind relaxed. She was truly alive.
The ballroom glittered like a dream carved in gold.
Chandeliers bathed the marble floors in light. Nobles twirled in gowns, laughter floating just like the scent of perfume. Musicians played, their melody delicate and unforgettable.
But Veronica Venenatus stood still at the top of the stairs, and the moment she stepped forward, the room noticed.
Her short blood red curls framed a pretty face, painted soft and sweet. But her emerald eyes sparkled like glass shards, deadly for those who looked too long. The dark violet gown hugged her perfect frame.
She walked like a queen who'd forgotten the crown she wasn't supposed to wear.
And Gods help anyone who got in her way.
She saw him instantly.
Theo…
Crown Prince Theodore of House Lyonhart.
Laughing with a group of sycophants, one hand on a wine glass, the other resting idly against his belt. Blond-haired. Sun-touched. Beautiful and oblivious.
Her heart stuttered.
She hated that.
She hated how he made her feel like a careless little girl again.
But then he looked at her.
His gaze landed, and his words stopped mid-sentence.
Veronica smiled.
Just a little bit.
Like a threat dressed in silk, thinking anyone and everyone was an enemy. And those who approached her, should prove themselves or die.
She descended the staircase, each step measured, each movement divine. The crowd parted as she approached.
"Your Highness," she said, voice soft and sugar-sweet. "How cruel of you to begin the ball without me."
"Veronica," Theo said, blinking. "You look… radiant."
Oh, he meant it.
He always meant it.
"Only radiant?" she purred. "I was hoping for divine."
He laughed. "Always such a tongue."
"You've no idea."
She slipped her arm into his. Gods, she remembered this moment. He'd dance with her hand in two minutes. Whisper that he admired her within eight. Kiss her hand in twenty. And by midnight?
I always belonged to him.
Until Felicia ruined it all.
"Your Highness," came a syrupy voice behind them.
Oh. Speak of the devil.
Veronica turned slowly.
Princess Felicia.
Inhabiting the body of a sweet, noble girl, one too perfect, too pure, too protagonist. Her pink curls bounced, and her wide eyes shimmered like she'd never known a mean thought in her life.
But Veronica knew better.
She knew exactly what Felicia was.
A roach in a tiara.
"Princess Felicia," Veronica said sweetly. "I was just admiring how… brave you are. Wearing last season's colors."
Felicia blinked. "Oh, I… I didn't know!"
"Oh, darling. I'm sure you didn't." She turned back to Theo. "Shall we dance?"
Theo, the gentleman that he was, offered his hand.
Felicia watched, helpless.
Veronica leaned in just before they reached the floor and whispered to Felicia.
"Try to take him again… and I'll poison the ink in your diary."
Why was I so cruel to her? What did I expect? For Theo to choose me? All I have done, was for myself.
They arrived at the dance floor.
Then she twirled into the waltz, every step light as flame; every smile honed like a knife.
She danced like she ruled this world.
Because for now?
She did.
The orchestra played something soft, sweet and slow.
Veronica's hand slipped into Theo's. Her other rested lightly on his shoulder, while his arm circled her waist like he'd done it a hundred times in a hundred dreams. Maybe he had.
She tilted her head, just enough to catch his scent, lavender, and a man's scent. She remembered that. It clung to letters he always sent. Pillows that never held him long enough because he was a prince.
"I hope you haven't forgotten how to lead, your Highness," she said, lips brushing his ear.
"I could say the same," Theo replied, smiling. "But I suspect you were always the one leading."
His voice was warm and unaware.
She hated how much she loved him.
They moved across the marble like no one else existed. Like the music had been written just for them. His steps matched hers without thought. Anyone who saw them knew they had old secrets; many women watched in jealousy. A true love story.
"Gods above. Your hands are cold," he murmured.
"It's not nerves," she lied. "I am just used to the cold shadows. They chase me, you know this."
"You've always been a strong woman."
"You used to like that about me."
"I still do."
That stopped her, just for a heartbeat.
Her emerald eyes locked with his blue.
And for a moment, she almost forgot the sword that pierced her heart. The screams. The betrayal. The poison. The other girl.
She almost forgot everything.
Almost.
Then she remembered her second life. The memories almost slipped away yet…
She smiled.
"Good," she said. "Because I'm not strong anymore."
He blinked. "You're not?"
She leaned in, breath on his neck.
"You're my weakness."
Theo laughed softly, not knowing it was a confession.
She let her hand trail lower on his shoulder, just a little closer to his heartbeat. The music played. Her gown whispered against his boots.
"Do you believe in fate?" He asked, watching her like a question he did not know he was asking.
"I used to," she whispered. "Before I realized it's just a word we use when we don't want to take responsibility."
"And now?"
"Now I believe in timing."
"Is this… good timing?" He asked.
She looked up at him.
Gods above, he was beautiful. And foolish. And mine.
"Yes," she said.
She didn't mean it now.
She meant this moment. Because this was the last time, she would ever be innocent.
And the last time he would ever love her without fear.
So, she danced with him like the world wasn't ending.
Because one day, he'd never hold her like this again.