The Execution

The rain wouldn't stop.

It poured over the marble courtyard of the Royal Palace, washing the stone steps with cold water and crimson streaks.

Hundreds of nobles stood beneath black umbrellas, their faces hidden behind masks of disgust and curiosity.

At the center of the courtyard stood a young woman in a torn white dress.

Elara Valemont.

Her wrists were bound.

Her dark hair was soaked, strands sticking against her pale face.

She could barely feel the cold anymore.

She had spent the last three days in a dungeon.

Three days without proper food.

Three days listening to people call her a traitor.

And now...

She was going to die.

A royal knight stepped forward and read the decree.

"Lady Elara Valemont, you have been found guilty of conspiring against the Crown, assisting enemy forces, and murdering members of the royal court."

A murmur spread through the crowd.

Elara slowly raised her head.

"Murder..."

A bitter smile appeared on her lips.

"I never killed anyone."

Her voice was weak, but the courtyard became strangely quiet.

She looked toward the nobles she had known her entire life.

Some looked away.

Some smiled.

Others whispered behind their hands.

Then she saw her former best friend.

Rosaline.

Standing beside the royal family.

Rosaline wouldn't look at her.

Elara's heart tightened.

"So this is what friendship was worth."

Her eyes moved again.

And then she saw him.

A tall man standing several steps away from the royal family.

Black hair.

Cold gray eyes.

A dark military coat bearing the crest of House Ardent.

Duke Lucien Ardent.

The Black Wolf of the North.

The man everyone believed had betrayed the Crown.

The man Elara had once feared.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, everything around her disappeared.

Lucien's expression remained unreadable.

But his eyes...

They looked strangely sad.

Elara frowned.

Why?

Why would a man like him look at her that way?

The executioner approached.

"Any final words?"

Elara looked toward the throne.

King Adrian sat silently.

Queen Celestine looked sorrowful.

Crown Prince Cassian stood beside her.

The man who had once promised to marry Elara.

The man she had loved.

Cassian wouldn't even look at her.

A quiet laugh escaped Elara.

"How pathetic..."

Cassian finally looked at her.

Their eyes met.

"You should have trusted me, Elara."

Her smile disappeared.

"Trusted you?"

Her voice trembled with anger.

"You were the one who gave them the evidence."

Cassian's expression hardened.

"You brought this upon yourself."

Elara stared at him.

Then she understood.

There was no one coming to save her.

No one believed her.

No one cared about the truth.

She closed her eyes.

"If I could go back..."

The executioner raised his sword.

"I would never trust any of them again."

The blade fell.

Darkness.

Elara expected pain.

Instead...

Warm sunlight touched her face.

She slowly opened her eyes.

A familiar ceiling appeared above her.

Gold decorations.

White curtains.

The Valemont family crest.

Her breath caught.

She sat upright.

Her heart pounded.

"This..."

She looked around the room.

Her old bedroom.

The bedroom she hadn't seen in seven years.

Her hands trembled as she rushed toward the mirror.

A young girl stared back at her.

Long dark hair.

Clear skin.

A familiar violet ribbon around her neck.

She touched her face.

"No..."

The door suddenly opened.

"Lady Elara?"

A young maid stepped inside.

"You'll be late for breakfast."

Elara stared at her.

That voice.

That face.

She remembered this morning.

She remembered exactly what happened next.

Today was the day of the Valemont family's invitation to the Royal Palace.

The same invitation that would eventually change her life.

The same event where she would first meet Lucien Ardent.

Elara slowly looked at the calendar on her desk.

Her hands went cold.

Seven years earlier.

She had returned to the past.

A second chance.

A second life.

Her reflection stared back at her.

The frightened girl from the execution was gone.

Elara slowly smiled.

This time...

She would not make the same mistakes.

She would not trust Cassian.

She would not become Rosaline's puppet.

And she would certainly not let herself be executed.

But there was one thing she didn't understand.

If she had returned seven years into the past...

Why could she still remember Lucien's expression before she died?

Those sad, almost desperate eyes.

As if he had known something she didn't.

Elara's smile faded.

She whispered to herself:

"Lucien Ardent..."

Outside her window, the palace bells began to ring.

The same bells that had once announced the beginning of her downfall.

This time, they were announcing the beginning of her revenge.

And somewhere in the Royal Palace...

A young Duke Lucien Ardent suddenly stopped walking.

For reasons he couldn't explain, he had the strange feeling that someone was thinking about him.

He looked toward the distant Valemont estate.

And for the first time that morning...

He smiled.

"Interesting."

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