Pain.
That was the first thing she felt.
Not the dull ache of a headache. Not the sting of scraped skin.
But something deeper. Heavier.
Like her body didn't belong to her.
Elara tried to breathe
and nearly choked on the scent of incense and something metallic.
Blood.
Her eyes snapped open.
Above her, stretched a canopy of crimson silk embroidered with gold dragons. The ceiling was impossibly high, painted with celestial beasts circling a blazing sun.
This wasn't a hospital.
This wasn't Earth.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
The last thing she remembered,
The tiger.
Its body trembling on the highway. The headlights. The screech of brakes.
She had run without thinking.
Then darkness.
"I'm… alive?"
Her voice came out unfamiliar smooth, low, commanding.
Not hers.
Suddenly, the doors of the grand chamber burst open.
"Your Majesty!"
Bootsteps echoed sharply across marble floors.
Three maids dropped to their knees at the foot of the bed, trembling so violently their foreheads hit the ground.
"Forgive us! Please do not punish us! We swear we did not poison the tea!"
Poison?
Elara pushed herself up too quickly.
Her body was… different.
Stronger. Taller. The silk sheets slid down
She froze.
Long goldish hair cascaded over her shoulders like a ray pf light. Her skin was pale, flawless. Her fingers were slender and adorned with heavy gold rings set with crimson gems.
This wasn't her body.
This was....
Memories exploded inside her mind.
A throne room.
A crown.
A man with golden eyes kneeling in chains.
Cruel laughter.
Her laughter.
Queen Seraphina Vaeloria.
The Tyrant Beast Queen of Elyndor.
Elara gasped as foreign memories flooded her consciousness like a violent storm.
Seraphina.
A ruler feared across the continent.
A woman who forced four powerful beastmen into political marriages.
A queen obsessed with one man who despised her.
A tyrant who punished servants for minor mistakes.
A monarch whose own husbands avoided her touch.
And just hours ago
She had tried to poison herself after being publicly rejected by the Tiger Knight she so shamelessly pursued.
Elara clutched her head.
"No… no, this can't be real…"
But it was.
The maids were still shaking, waiting for punishment.
Waiting for her rage.
Because the real Seraphina would have already ordered their execution.
Elara swallowed.
She had been a veterinarian.
She healed injured animals.
She saved lives.
And now, she was inside the body of a woman who ruined them.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze.
"Raise your heads."
The maids flinched.
They obeyed.
Their eyes were red from crying.
Fear.
Not respect.
Fear.
Her chest tightened.
This queen… was hated.
Suddenly, another memory surfaced.
Four husbands.
Bound to her by law.
Forced into her palace.
One dragon.
One lion.
One merman.
One griffin.
Each powerful in his own right.
Each humiliated by her obsession with another man.
And today
They were scheduled to request a formal dissolution of their marriages.
Her stomach dropped.
If they succeeded, the political alliances holding the kingdom together would collapse.
Rebellion would follow.
War would ignite.
And Seraphina no, Elara
would likely die.
A knock echoed through the chamber.
Heavy.
Controlled.
Intimidating.
"The Dragon Consort requests an audience with Her Majesty."
The air itself seemed to freeze.
The dragon.
Ancient. Ruthless. Untouchable.
Seraphina had publicly slapped him once.
Elara's heart pounded.
She was not prepared for this.
She didn't know court etiquette.
She didn't know this world's politics.
She didn't even know how to sit like a queen.
But she knew one thing.
If she acted like the old Seraphina
she would not survive.
"Let him enter," she said.
The doors creaked open.
And he walked in.
Tall.
Ethereal.
Silver-white hair flowing over his shoulders like frost. His pale robes shimmered with faint blue scales that caught the light.
Behind him
For just a second
A massive spectral dragon appeared, eyes glowing cold sapphire.
His gaze settled on her.
Not with hatred.
Not with anger.
But with complete, absolute indifference.
He knelt gracefully.
"My Queen."
His voice was calm.
Detached.
"I have come to request"
He lifted his eyes.
"And to finalize the dissolution of our marriage."
There it was.
The beginning of the end.
The maids held their breath.
The old queen would have screamed.
Threatened.
Begged.
Elara forced herself to breathe slowly.
Think.
You are not a tyrant.
You are a healer.
And healers listen first.
"Rise," she said quietly.
He stood.
Still expressionless.
She studied him.
This man was powerful enough to overthrow her.
Yet he remained bound by a contract forged in blood and royal decree.
He expected arrogance.
He expected cruelty.
Instead, she asked softly
"Before you leave me… tell me something."
His brows shifted almost imperceptibly.
"Why did you never look at me the way you look at the horizon?"
Silence.
The question clearly caught him off guard.
Because the real Seraphina would never ask that.
She would demand.
Not question.
The dragon's cold eyes narrowed slightly.
"Because Your Majesty never once looked at us."
Her breath caught.
Not him.
Us.
Four husbands.
Four neglected consorts.
Four political pillars she had ignored.
The weight of what the original queen had done crashed over her.
Elara lowered her gaze briefly.
Then she did something that made every person in the room freeze.
"I see," she whispered.
And for the first time since awakening
The Tyrant Queen did not issue an order.
She did not scream.
She did not threaten.
She simply said
"Then give me one month."
The dragon's eyes sharpened.
"One month?"
"One month," she repeated steadily. "If after that, you still wish to leave… I will sign the dissolution without resistance."
The maids looked as though lightning had struck the palace.
The dragon studied her carefully.
As if seeing her for the first time.
"You are not yourself today, Your Majesty."
Elara met his gaze.
No arrogance.
No obsession.
Only calm resolve.
"You're right," she said quietly.
"I'm not."
And somewhere deep within the palace
For the first time in years
The winds began to change.