---
The next morning, golden sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, casting delicate patterns across Seraphina's bed. She lay still, staring at the ceiling, her mind tangled with the weight of two lifetimes.
The House of Liora.
In her former life, she had ruled an empire; now, she belonged to a declining noble family on the edges of the Kingdom of Eldoria. The memories of her new identity were sharp and clear, but beneath them, her past as the Empress pulsed like a hidden wound.
With a sigh, she pushed herself upright. This body felt fragile, weaker than her previous one—but there was power within her. She could sense it, slumbering beneath her skin like an ember waiting to be reignited.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
"Lady Seraphina?" Lina's voice floated through the door. "Lady Eleanor requests your presence in the solarium."
Her mother. Another unfamiliar-yet-familiar memory surfaced—Eleanor Liora, a gentle woman whose health had deteriorated over the years. Though Seraphina barely recalled meeting her father, she knew that he was often absent, chasing fruitless ambitions to restore the family's honor.
"I'll be there shortly," Seraphina answered, surprised by how steady her voice had become.
She rose, walking to a wardrobe of simple dresses. No silk or jewels here—only faded fabrics in soft blues and creams. She selected a navy gown with silver embroidery, a small nod to her imperial past. As her fingers brushed the cloth, her mind drifted back to the cold touch of the executioner's sword.
Never again.
This time, she would not be powerless.
---
The solarium was a warm, sunlit space, though the air carried the faint scent of herbs and medicine. Her mother reclined on a cushioned chaise, pale and frail beneath a cream-colored shawl. Despite her fragile appearance, there was kindness in her smile as Seraphina entered.
"You're awake." Eleanor's voice was soft but filled with warmth. "I was so worried when you collapsed. You've been asleep for nearly three days."
Three days? Seraphina kept her face calm, though inwardly, her thoughts raced. Had her soul required that long to settle into this body?
"I feel much better," she lied, stepping closer. "I'm sorry for worrying you, Mother."
Eleanor's face softened with relief. "You mustn't push yourself. The physician said your constitution is delicate—you've always been…" She trailed off, a shadow crossing her expression.
Seraphina tilted her head. "Always been what?"
Her mother hesitated. "Sensitive. Prone to strange dreams and fainting spells. But you seem stronger today."
Strange dreams. Her memories from her past life must have manifested here as visions—fragments too intense for this body to contain.
"I will be careful," Seraphina assured her.
Eleanor smiled faintly and gestured toward the seat beside her. "Come, sit with me. I want to hear your voice."
As she settled into the chair, Seraphina found herself unexpectedly touched. In her previous life, no one had shown her such simple, unconditional affection. Emperors did not receive warmth—only reverence or fear.
Perhaps this new life would not be entirely a curse.
"You've grown up so quickly," Eleanor murmured, reaching out to brush a lock of golden hair from Seraphina's face. "Soon, you'll be of age to attend the royal gatherings. You'll make a fine match."
Seraphina's heart slowed. Royal gatherings. That meant the royal family. The first true step toward unraveling the mysteries of this world.
"Has there been news from the capital?" she asked carefully.
Eleanor blinked at her question, surprised. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm curious," Seraphina said with a faint smile. "I feel as though I've slept through too much."
Her mother sighed. "The usual politics, I suppose. Though I did hear Duke Everhart has returned to court. The kingdom owes him much after the war."
Her pulse quickened.
Duke Everhart.
She didn't recognize the name—but there was something about the way her heart twisted at the sound of it. Could he be connected to her past?
"I see," Seraphina murmured. "He must be an important figure."
"Very," Eleanor confirmed, adjusting her shawl. "They say he was blessed by the gods—though others claim he's cursed. A tragic figure, really. But I'm sure none of that matters to us."
Seraphina lowered her gaze to hide the spark of interest in her eyes. Blessed… or cursed. She had to meet him.
And if there was even the faintest chance that he was the man she once loved—and who had betrayed her—she would uncover the truth.
No matter the cost.
---
Later that afternoon, Seraphina found herself wandering the manor grounds, deep in thought. The gardens were overgrown, a reflection of the family's faded glory. Beneath the neglect, however, she sensed magic—old and restless.
She knelt near a cluster of wildflowers, brushing her fingers against the earth. In her former life, she had commanded the magic of Aether, the most potent and elusive force in the empire. Here, it felt distant… but not entirely gone.
Closing her eyes, she called to it.
A faint warmth stirred beneath her skin, tendrils of energy weaving through her fingertips. It was weak—like a faded memory—but it was there. With time and practice, she could reclaim what she had lost.
"You will not be powerless again," she whispered to herself.
The wind stirred as if in response.
Her journey was only beginning—but this time, fate would not decide her ending.
This time, she would.
---