Chapter 1
Pain.
It was the first thing she remembered. The cold marble beneath her knees, the bitter wind slicing through her torn dress, and the taste of blood on her lips.
Elira Vexley, once the beloved daughter of the Vexley family, now knelt like a criminal before the imperial court. Her wrists were bound, her hair disheveled, and her once-innocent eyes now carried the weight of betrayal.
"You have been found guilty of conspiring against the crown," the judge declared, his voice echoing through the grand hall.
Her gaze drifted to the crowd—rows of nobles and aristocrats, faces she had once smiled at. Some averted their eyes. Others smirked.
And there they stood, side by side.
Lord Thorne Drestin, her fiancé. And beside him, her childhood best friend, Lady Miriel.
Elira's heart didn't break—it shattered. The love she had given so freely, the trust she had held so sacred, had been twisted into a weapon. Thorne had fed her lies, used her name, planted forged letters, and then abandoned her when the blade of judgment fell.
"Why...?" Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
Miriel leaned forward with a pitying smile. "You were too kind for this world, Elira. That's what made you easy to break."
The crowd gasped as the executioner stepped forward.
"No!" Elira cried out, but the rope tightened. She struggled, not for her life—but for understanding.
Was her only sin loving too deeply?
The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was Thorne gently holding Miriel's hand.
How cruel, that love would be her undoing.
And then—silence.
No pain. No breath. Just…nothing.
Until something shattered.
A crack like breaking glass echoed in her skull. Heat surged through her veins, as if fire itself rejected her death.
A gasp tore from her lips. Her eyes flew open.
She was… alive?
But this wasn't the execution hall.
This was a soft bed. Warm sheets. A luxurious chamber lit by golden light filtering through a stained-glass window.
Elira sat up in alarm, her fingers trembling. Her reflection stared back at her from a nearby mirror—but it wasn't her face.
This woman had silver hair. Pale skin. Eyes as sharp as daggers.
And then the door burst open.
"You're awake," a voice said. Cold. Deep. Commanding.
A tall man stood in the doorway, dressed in black, his crimson eyes watching her like a hawk.
She recognized that face.
Kael Dravencourt, the infamous Duke of the North. The empire's most feared villain. The man known as the Crimson Tyrant.
And suddenly, everything made a horrible, impossible kind of sense.
She hadn't just returned.
She had been reborn.
And this time… she was the villain's bride.
🔮 Next Chapter Preview – Chapter 2: The Monster's Proposal
Elira tries to piece together how she ended up in the body of Kael's mysterious bride-to-be. But as Kael steps closer with an unreadable look in his eyes, she realizes something chilling—the man may know she's not who she's pretending to be.And tonight, he plans to test her loyalty… with something she can't escape.
What exactly did this woman agree to before Elira took her place...?