Chapter 3
I opened my eyes with a gasp, Noah’s warm brown gaze meeting mine. The world around me swam into focus—the ornate church of Eldoria, where I’d married almost two years ago; the pews filled with nobles; Noah’s father; my parents… My father.
What in the Seven Hells was going on?
My heart stuttered. There he sat, alive and beaming, not a ghost or figment of my imagination. Lord Elyas D’Arcane, minister of revenue, pride evident in the set of his shoulders. Not the broken man I’d last seen, stripped of the title and led to the executioner’s block.
What fresh hell was this?
Was this some kind of twisted purgatory? Hell was the only place I deserved to go. I looked back at Noah, drinking in his familiar features. Handsome, kind—everything I’d once fallen for. But now, all I could see was his cold, hard face as he kicked me out of his manor, standing by while my father was publicly executed.
It wasn’t Noah’s fault. He was justified. But I couldn’t control the emotions that bubbled up—helplessness, fear, desperation. It all looked so real.
I blinked rapidly, certain the vision would dissolve. But the church remained solid, the scent of candles tickling my nose. Noah’s hands were warm in mine, his brow furrowed with concern. Noah must have caught a glimpse of my inner turmoil.
“Are you alright?” he whispered.
I nodded jerkily, not trusting my voice. This couldn’t be real. And yet…
The priest’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Noah leaned in, pressing his lips to mine and I fought the urge to recoil. His lips met mine, and I waited for the spark, the thrill that had once set my heart racing. I should have felt electrified, loved. But I felt nothing. Nothing. I felt nothing but a cold emptiness where love had once resided.
The past me would have been overjoyed, but I was no longer that love-sick fool. My lips stayed stiff, unresponsive. Sensing my discomfort, Noah kept the kiss mercifully brief.
The kiss ended and we turned to face the crowd, their cheers echoing off the vaulted ceiling. I plastered on a smile, my mind reeling.
Was this truly happening? Had I somehow been granted a second chance? The cynical part of me—the part forged in the harsh realities of exile—scoffed at the notion. And yet, here I stood, twenty years old again, on my wedding day.
My gaze swept the crowd, cataloging faces I hadn’t seen in nearly two years. Duke Eldrick Stormbourne, Noah’s father, looked regal and disapproving. My own mother dabbed at her eyes with a silk handkerchief.
As I descended the steps of the altar, my gaze locked on my family—whole, alive, and beaming with pride. Father and mother held each other’s hands as they looked at me warmly, full of love. And then there was Sebastian, looking healthy again as he smiled mischievously. His eyes were full of joy, hope, and youth—so unlike the empty, tired husk of a man I had last seen. The sight hit me like a punch to the gut, stealing my breath and clouding my vision. My foot caught on the edge of a stair, and for a heart-stopping moment, I teetered on the brink of an ungraceful tumble.
“M’lady!” Laurel’s soft voice reached my ears as she darted forward, hands outstretched to catch me.
But Noah was quicker. His strong arm wrapped around my waist, steadying me before I could fall. “Careful,” he murmured, concern etched across his features.
I barely heard him. My eyes had locked onto Laurel, and another wave of emotion crashed over me. Sweet, timid Laurel—the girl I’d treated so abominably in my previous life. Memories of my cruelty flooded back, each one a knife twisting in my gut.
I’d snapped at her for the slightest infractions, berated her for things beyond her control. I’d been a monster, plain and simple. And yet, here she was, still by my side, still rushing to my aid without hesitation.
“Thank you, Laurel,” I managed, my voice thick with unshed tears. Her eyes widened, fear flickering across her face at my gratitude.
She ducked her head as if waiting for punishment. I sucked in a sharp breath.
Of course, she would be scared of my sudden change. She didn’t know any better.
“Whatever, can’t you see?” I said in snidely and she visibly relaxed. Just my luck—I couldn’t even be nice to her without coming across as threatening. The irony.
As Noah guided me down the remaining steps, I couldn’t tear my gaze from Laurel. Her eyes were downcast, her posture hunched—a stark reminder of the fear I’d instilled in her. The very sight of it made me sick.
This time would be different. I’d been given a second chance, and I’d be damned if I squandered it. No more cruel words, no more unreasonable demands. I would show Laurel—show everyone—that I could be better.
We proceeded down the aisle, Noah’s arm linked with mine, leaving my family behind.
I panicked. I couldn’t help it.
I broke free from Noah’s arm and ran to my father, my heart pounding against my ribs. The crowd’s gasps faded into white noise as I threw myself into his arms, breathing in his familiar scent of parchment and ink.
“Papa!” The word came out as a sob. He was real. Solid. Alive.
“There, there, my little doll,” His arms wrapped around me, strong and secure. Just like they used to be before everything went wrong. It had been ages since I heard him call me his little doll. “Such tears on your wedding day?”
Mother’s hand smoothed my hair. “Oh, darling. We know it’s hard leaving home, but you’ll always be our daughter.”
I clung tighter to Father, my tears soaking into his expensive doublet. “You’re alive. You’re both alive.”
Father’s chest rumbled with laughter. “Of course we are! Though your mother might kill me if I keep spoiling you with more jewelry.”
“Elyas!” Mother swatted his arm, but her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Don’t encourage her.”
A familiar throat-clearing sound cut through my emotional haze. “What? No love for your favorite brother?”
I spun around to face Sebastian, his green eyes—so like mine—dancing with mischief. My arms were around his neck before he could dodge.
“Oof! Someone’s feeling dramatic today,” but his arms came around me just as tight.
“Shut up, Seb.” I buried my face in his shoulder, inhaling the scent of leather and horse that always clung to him.
“Make me, little sister. Or should I say, Lady Stormbourne?” He tugged my veil playfully. I had missed this, missed his teasing. I didn’t mind his teasing as long as he was alive. He could tease me as much as he wanted.
“Sebastian, stop teasing your sister,” Mother’s admonishment held no real heat and it only made his grin widen.
An annoying presence materialized behind me. Noah. His hand settled on my lower back, the touch sending an involuntary shiver of disgust down my spine.
As much as I had loved him once, now his presence did nothing but make my skin crawl.
Sebastian’s expression softened as he looked at his friend. “Take care of my little sister, Noah. Though I warn you—she snores like a bear.”
“I do not!” I let out through a sob, sounding just like a… bear. I take back everything I said about his teasing.
“Welcome to the family,” Sebastian clasped Noah’s shoulder. “Finally, I have someone to share embarrassing stories about her with.”
“Time to go, Ilyana,” Noah’s voice was gentle but it irritated me nonetheless as he tugged me away. “You can visit them whenever you wish.”
I let him guide me down the aisle, my heart a tangle of emotions. Behind us, I heard Sebastian’s theatrical whisper, “Did I mention she sleep-walks?”
The sound of Mother’s exasperated “Sebastian!” followed us down the aisle, and for a moment—just a moment—I could pretend this was real happiness, not the calm before the storm.
My maid, Laurel quietly followed me as I moved as if in a dream, muscle memory carrying me through the motions. Outside, the sun was brilliant, a far cry from the perpetual gloom of the northern borders.
I inhaled deeply, savoring air untainted by the stench of unwashed bodies and desperation. Was this real? Or had I finally cracked under the weight of loss and grief?
As we descended the church steps, rose petals raining down upon us, I caught sight of my reflection in a glass door of the church. Gone were the hollowed cheeks and haunted eyes. I looked… young. Unbroken. The Ilyana of two years in the past, before my schemes had come crashing down around me.
Noah squeezed my hand, drawing my attention. “You seem distracted, Lya. Is everything alright?”
I stared at him, searching his face for any hint of the coldness I’d last seen there, almost two years ago. But there was only warmth and concern in those eyes.
“I’m fine,” I managed, the lie came naturally on my tongue. “Just… overwhelmed.”
He smiled, bringing my hand to his lips. “I understand. It happened so fast. It’s a lot to take in.”
If only he knew.
As we made our way to the waiting carriage, my mind raced. If this was real—and a traitorous part of me was beginning to believe it might be—what did it mean? What cruel trick of fate had brought me back to this moment?
And more importantly, what was I going to do about it?
The weight of possibility settled on my shoulders. I could change things. Prevent the cascade of events that had led to my family’s ruin.
My father’s laughter rang out behind me, and I flinched. He was alive. They all were. And they had no idea of the storm that was coming.
As Noah helped me into the carriage, I made a silent vow. This time would be different. I would make it different, whatever it took.
The carriage lurched into motion, bearing us away from the church. My hands trembled in my lap, and I clenched them tightly.
Noah turned to me, concern etched on his features.
“Ilyana, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting strange since the ceremony.”
I took a deep breath, buying time. What could I say? That I was a time traveler from a future where I’d ruined both our lives? That I’d manipulated him into this marriage? That I had hurt the woman he actually loved?
I turned to him, forcing a smile. “I’m really excited. Just… taking it all in.”
He nodded, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. It was only my iron willpower that I didn’t move away from his touch. “It’s alright. I know this is a big change for both of us.”
If only he knew how big.
As the carriage rolled on, doubt gnawed at me. Could I truly change the course of events? Or was I doomed to repeat my mistakes, trapped in an endless cycle of regret?
I pushed the thoughts aside. There would be time for that later. For now, I had a bigger problem to worry about.
The carriage rolled to a stop before the grand palace gates. I gazed up at the imposing structure, its white marble spires piercing the sky. Memories of my first arrival here flooded back. Back then, I’d been giddy with excitement, drunk on my success.
Now, the sight filled me with dread.
Noah squeezed my hand. “Welcome home, Lya.”
I plastered on a smile, ignoring the knot in my stomach. This wasn’t home. It never had been.
From what I remembered we would move out into a manor in a few months. Even that wouldn’t be permanent. As the heir of Everard, Noah will have to go back to his real home. But I never got the chance.
The gates swung open, and we proceeded into the sprawling courtyard. Servants rushed to greet us, bowing low as we descended from the carriage. Manicured gardens stretched in every direction, a riot of color and fragrance. Fountains sparkled in the afternoon sun, their tinkling music a stark contrast to the silence of the northern borders.
As we approached the palace steps, I scanned the welcoming party. Queen Felicia was absent. Of course she was, just like everyone close to Noah she also disapproved of me.
Looking back, I had been quite a popular woman in the capital.
Instead, a prim-looking woman in the royal livery stood at attention. I recognized her as Lady Amelia, the queen’s personal handmaid. Her lips curved in a pleasant smile, no trace of the disapproval I knew was bubbling in her very pores.
“Welcome, Lord Noah, Lady Ilyana,” she intoned, her voice as frigid as a northern winter. “Her Majesty sends her regards and regrets that urgent matters of state prevent her from greeting you personally.”
I bit back a snort. Urgent matters, indeed. In my past life, I’d been too caught up in my triumph to recognize the snub for what it was. Now, the calculated insult was as clear as day.
Noah, bless his naive heart, seemed oblivious to the slight. He bowed graciously. “We understand, of course. Please convey our thanks to Her Majesty.”
Lady Amelia’s eyes flicked to me, expecting a response. I dipped into a curtsy, keeping my expression neutral. “Yes, our sincerest thanks.”
She nodded stiffly. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your temporary quarters. You’ll have time to refresh yourselves before the ball this evening.”
As we followed Lady Amelia into the palace, I caught snippets of whispered conversations from the entourage that had come to greet us. Among the familiar faces, I spotted Lady Seraphina and Lady Penelope, daughters of prominent noble houses who’d been sent to the capital to learn under the queen and seek advantageous marriages.
“…the Queen couldn’t even be bothered…”
“…what did you expect? It’s that D’Arcane girl…”
“…know how shameless she is to…”
I kept my head high, ignoring the stares and murmurs. Let them gossip. I had bigger concerns and it’s not like it wasn’t true.
Lady Seraphina Ashbourne, daughter of the Duke of Thornvale, stood out with her striking beauty and carefully cultivated air of sophistication. In my previous life, I’d barely registered her existence, too focused on securing Noah to pay attention to the other players in the royal court. Now, I noticed the calculating gleam in her eyes as she assessed me, and proceeded to disregard me as a threat. That’s right, her goal had always been Prince Anderic.
Beside her, Lady Penelope Wentworth fidgeted with her fan, her vapid expression belying the ambition I knew lurked beneath. Both girls had set their sights on Prince Anderic, seeing him as their ticket to the ultimate prize—becoming Queen of Aetheria. In my past life, I’d dismissed them as inconsequential.
As we proceeded through the grand hallways, I found myself reassessing everything I thought I knew. Seraphina’s sly smile, Penelope’s carefully rehearsed giggle—each detail now held new significance. These were not merely vapid court butterflies, but potential allies or enemies in the game I now found myself playing.
I marveled at the opulence surrounding us. Gilt-framed mirrors lined the halls, reflecting the light from crystal chandeliers, each one probably worth more than what my family had survived on for months in exile. Priceless tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes from Aetherian history.
As the daughter of a Marquess, I had been to the palace numerous times. So these things weren’t new to me. But I’d once been captivated by this splendor. Now, it felt oppressive, each glittering surface a reminder of how far I’d fallen—and how precarious my position truly was.
Lady Amelia led us through a maze of corridors, finally stopping before a set of ornate double doors. “Lord Noah, these will be your chambers for the next few hours. Lady Ilyana, if you’ll come with me…”
Noah frowned. “We’re not sharing quarters?” Thank God. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
Lady Amelia’s lips thinned further. “It’s traditional for newlyweds to prepare separately before their first formal appearance at court. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course,” I said smoothly. “Tradition is important. I look forward to seeing you at the ball, my lord.”
Noah’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. “Until then, my lady.”
As Lady Amelia led me away, I could feel Noah’s confused gaze boring into my back. Part of me ached to turn around, to reassure him. But I couldn’t. I felt nothing for him even if old habits urged me to reassure him. I had too much to do, too much to change.
My temporary chambers were luxurious, if slightly smaller than the ones I’d occupied in my past life. A veritable army of maids descended upon me, stripping away my wedding gown and ushering me into a steaming bath.
As I soaked, letting the scented water ease the tension from my muscles, I pondered my next move. The ball would be crucial. I needed to start changing perceptions, laying the groundwork for a different future.
A knock at the door interrupted my musings. “Enter,” I called.
Laurel bustled in, carrying a gown of amber-yellow silk. “Her Majesty’s gift for this evening’s ball, my lady.”
I nodded, keeping my face impassive. “How thoughtful of Her Majesty. Please convey my thanks.”
Laurel blanched, not used to my polite behavior. Hmm, I have to change that. God knows, poor Laurel deserved it. Until then I had to keep up the facade of my past self. I didn’t want her to be too scared to function properly.
“What are you staring at? Can’t you do anything properly? Go away!” I also threw a pillow at her, deliberately missing her by a mile. She visibly relaxed. Was I this bad?
She curtsied and departed, leaving me alone with the gown. I ran my fingers over the sumptuous fabric, remembering how thrilled I’d been to receive it in my past life—how proud I’d been to wear it—until I attended the ball and understood the message behind the ‘gift.’
Until I went to the ball and understood the message behind the “gift.” Yellow, not the Stormbourne blue. A clear signal that I wasn’t truly one of them, not in the Queen’s eyes.
I slipped into the gown, allowing Laurel to fuss over my hair and makeup. As I studied my reflection, a plan began to form. I couldn’t change the gown, not without causing a scene. But I could change how I wore it.
“Fetch me some blue ribbon,” I instructed Laurel. “And my sapphire earrings.”
The girl looked confused but hurried to obey. When she returned, I wove the blue ribbon through my elaborate updo and donned the sparkling earrings.
“Perfect,” I murmured, examining the effect. The yellow of the gown was still dominant, but the blue accents sent a clear message.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the palace grounds, a page arrived to escort me to the ballroom. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. This was it. My first real chance to change the course of events.
I steeled myself for what was to come. The Queen would be there, all smiles and warmth for her precious nephew. And me? I’d be the interloper, the villainess, dressed in the wrong color.
But not this time. This time, I’d use every weapon in my arsenal—charm, wit, and a lifetime of regret—to win her over.
The herald announced my arrival, and I stepped into the glittering ballroom. Hundreds of eyes turned to us, a sea of blue and silver. And there, at the center of it all, stood Queen Felicia.
Her eyes locked on mine, a flicker of surprise crossing her face as she took in the yellow dress. I met her gaze steadily, chin raised.
Let the games begin.
No! No games this time!