Chapter 1: The Wine of Ashes & Morning Awakening

The taste of bitter nightshade and burning copper was the last memory Sara Vance carried into the dark.

She remembered the grand lotus hall of the Imperial Sunfire Palace. She remembered the clash of golden goblets, the laughter of court nobles, and the gentle, alluring smile of Second Prince Caspian as he handed her the crystal cup of spiced honey wine. “To our eternal union, my sweet Sara,” he had whispered, his velvet voice dripping with false devotion.

Minutes later, agony had ripped through her chest. Blood poured from her lips, staining her pearl-white bridal gown. As her vision blurred and her knees gave out against the icy marble floor, Sara had turned her tear-drenched eyes toward Caspian, expecting horror, screaming for help. Instead, she had met his cold, calculating gaze. Standing beside him was her younger sister, Mara, clutching her throat as well, thrashing in agonizing convulsions.

Caspian had merely adjusted his golden cuffs, stepped over Sara’s trembling hand, and murmured to his guards, “Ensure the Vance estate is burned to the ground before dawn. Traitors leave no heirs.”

Betrayed. Murdered by the man she had loved for three years, sacrificed alongside her own blood to clear Caspian’s path to the throne.

Ah… if I could live again…

Sara gasped, bolting upright in bed.

Cold sweat drenched her silk nightgown. Her hand shot instantly to her throat—intact, smooth, unblemished by the black veins of nightshade poison. Her lungs filled with crisp, lavender-scented air instead of the suffocating smoke of burning incense.

She blinked rapidly, scanning her surroundings. Sunlight poured through tall arched windows, casting diamond lattices of gold across polished mahogany floors. Ivory silk draperies swayed in the morning breeze.

This was not the imperial dungeon. This was her girlhood bedchamber in the Vance Estate.

“My Lady! You’re finally awake!”

Her maid, Chloe, hurried into the room bearing a silver basin of warm water. “You must hurry! The Imperial Envoy and the Lord Chancellor have already arrived at the main hall! Today is the formal betrothal announcement!”

Sara’s heart thudded against her ribs like a trapped bird. The betrothal announcement?

“What is today’s date?” Sara asked, her voice rasping.

“It is the fifth of the Sun Moon, My Lady,” Chloe replied with a gentle smile, setting down the basin. “The day His Highness Prince Caspian and His Grace Regent Duke Valerius present their formal marriage tokens to House Vance! Oh, the whole capital is envious of you and Lady Mara!”

Sara’s hands trembled beneath the bedsheets as realization struck her like a thunderbolt.

Rebirth. The heavens had granted her a second chance.

In her past life, today was the day Prince Caspian presented the Jade Phoenix token to Sara, making her his official fiancée and future Second Princess. Mara, meanwhile, was granted the dragon-engraved Obsidian Token of Regent Duke Valerius—a man feared throughout Solaria as the “Grim Reaper of the North,” a cold, scarred military commander who rarely spoke and ruled the empire’s armies with an iron fist.

Mara had wept for three days in her past life, cursing her fate, terrified of Valerius’s dark reputation. Meanwhile, Sara had walked blindly into Caspian’s gilded trap, believing herself the luckiest woman in Solaria. She had used her family’s wealth and political connections to elevate Caspian, only for him to slaughter them all once his power was secure.

Sara stood up, stepping toward the tall mirror. The reflection looking back at her was young, radiant, and unmarred by tragedy—silver-gold hair cascading over delicate shoulders, sharp violet eyes holding a chilling intelligence that had not existed in her past life.

“Where is Mara?” Sara asked quietly.

“Lady Mara has been up since dawn, My Lady,” Chloe whispered. “She was pacing in the garden, looking strangely flushed and muttering to herself. She even insisted on wearing the crimson ceremonial gown meant for royal receptions.”

Sara’s eyes narrowed slightly. Strange.

Before Sara could ponder further, the heavy mahogany doors of her bedchamber burst open.

Mara stood on the threshold. Her cheeks were flushed red, her eyes wild with a feverish, desperate intensity. She wore a bright scarlet silk dress, rich with silver embroidery. But it wasn’t her dress that caught Sara’s attention—it was the look in Mara’s eyes.

It was not the timid, spoiled look of a eighteen-year-old noble daughter. It was the frantic, ravenous look of a woman who had tasted death and was desperate to steal life.

Mara has been reborn too, Sara realized instantly.

Mara took three swift steps into the room, staring at Sara with an eerie, triumphant grin.

“Sara,” Mara said, her voice shaking with suppressed hysteria. “You look pale. Did you have a bad dream?”

“I had a nightmare of fire and poison, sister,” Sara answered coolly, watching Mara’s reaction like a hawk.

Mara flinched, her eyes flickering with a flash of memory, but her posture quickly stiffened into arrogance. She lifted her chin, a bitter smirk curving her lips.

“Nightmares are for the weak,” Mara declared, stepping closer. “Today, destiny changes. You have always taken the best of everything, Sara. Father’s favor, the admiration of the court, the brightest jewels. But not today. Not anymore.”

“What are you talking about, Mara?” Sara kept her tone deliberately passive, testing her sister.

“You’ll see in the main hall,” Mara laughed softly, a sound sharp and brittle. “Prince Caspian belongs to a royal bloodline. He will be Emperor one day! I won’t let you hoard the crown while I am tossed to that cold brute Valerius!”

Without waiting for a response, Mara turned on her heel and swept out of the room, her scarlet skirts rustling like dry leaves.

Sara stood motionless in the quiet room. A slow, chilling smile touched the corners of her lips.

Mara believed Prince Caspian was the golden ticket to supreme majesty. Mara remembered Caspian’s charming face, his sweet promises, and his ascent to power—but she had died too quickly in the past life to see the rotten truth beneath his mask. Mara didn’t know that Caspian was buried in secret gambling debts to foreign syndicates, that he was a coward who sold state secrets, and that his “love” was nothing more than a meat-grinder for anyone foolish enough to trust him.

And Regent Duke Valerius?

In the past life, court rumors branded Valerius a heartless monster. Yet when Caspian had ordered the massacre of House Vance, it was Valerius’s Iron Guard who had risked imperial treason to pull Sara’s younger brother out of the flames. It was Valerius who had stood alone in the Imperial Court, defying Caspian to his face, demanding justice for the murdered sisters until Caspian had him assassinated in the dark.

Valerius was not a viper. He was the only honorable lion in a den of hyenas.

“Chloe,” Sara said calmly, turning to her maid. “Bring me the midnight-blue velvet gown with silver embroidery. And the sapphire hairpin.”

“The dark dress, My Lady? But His Highness Prince Caspian prefers light pastel colors—”

“I am no longer dressing for Prince Caspian,” Sara said, her violet eyes flashing like cold steel. “Today, we play a new game.”