The banquet hall exploded into whispers.
"The Duke of Draevenor?"
"Instead of the Crown Prince she chose him?"
"Has she lost her mind?"
"But the Duke is practically half-dead..."
The murmurs spread through the nobles like wildfire, disbelief rippling across every corner of the hall.
Yet Elysia remained perfectly still beneath their scrutiny.
The King sighed heavily from the throne above. "Cassiel would be a difficult match," he said carefully. "Perhaps I should choose another young lord from one of the noble houses instead."
Elysia did not waver.
"Your Majesty," she said firmly, "I am deeply grateful for your kindness. But I have already sworn before the Divine Prioress that in this lifetime, I will marry no one but the Duke of Draevenor."
Then she lowered herself fully to the marble floor.
"I humbly ask for Your Majesty’s blessing."
The soft sound of her forehead touching stone echoed through the silent hall.
Cassiel Drakemont.
The King’s younger brother.
The empire’s most celebrated war hero.
Years ago, when the current King still fought for the throne, it had been Cassiel who stood beside him through bloodshed and betrayal. Again and again, he dragged his brother back from the brink of death.
After the coronation, Cassiel became Aveanlor’s sharpest blade.
He crushed rebellions in the east, expanded the northern borders, and earned a reputation feared even beyond the kingdom itself.
Until one year ago.
During a campaign in the Northern Reaches, he suddenly collapsed.
He had been carried back to Draevenor Manor unconscious—and never awakened again.
The royal physicians exhausted every remedy they knew.
None dared promise he would ever open his eyes.
Elysia knew all of this.
But she also knew something no one else did.
In her previous life, Cassiel had awakened three years later.
By then, Elysia’s marriage to Vaelen had already become a nightmare she could no longer endure.
She remained childless. The Queen arranged for Vaelen to take a consort, and unlike Elysia, that woman was adored by everyone within the Crown Prince’s residence.
Even Vaelen treated her gently.
The contrast was humiliating.
One afternoon, Vaelen brought both women to Draevenor Manor to visit the newly awakened duke.
On the journey back, the consort deliberately departed first with all the carriages, leaving Elysia stranded behind.
No one offered help.
No one even looked at her.
Everyone in the palace understood one thing clearly:
The Crown Prince did not care for his wife.
And no servant wished to offend him for her sake.
Elysia stood alone outside Draevenor Manor, watching carriage after carriage disappear into the distance.
The cold humiliation nearly suffocated her.
Then a weak voice sounded behind her.
"There’s another carriage prepared. You may use it."
Elysia turned in surprise.
Cassiel sat beneath the manor’s shadowed archway in a wheelchair, dressed in loose black robes. His face was pale from years confined to bed, his once-powerful frame visibly thinner.
Yet when he looked at her, his gaze held no mockery.
Only quiet concern.
"Would you care to stay for supper before returning?" he asked gently.
Elysia tried to refuse.
But the moment she opened her mouth, tears spilled uncontrollably down her face.
She did not understand why she was crying so hard.
Perhaps because someone had finally noticed her pain.
Perhaps because after years of humiliation, someone had spoken to her with kindness.
Or perhaps because she finally realized how lonely she truly was.
Her family had died for the kingdom.
And yet she alone had been abandoned.
Cassiel said nothing more.
He simply handed her a handkerchief and remained beside her while she cried.
That was all.
But Elysia remembered it for the rest of her life.
Back in the present, the King remained silent for a long moment.
Before he could speak, the Queen finally intervened.
"If she truly wishes to marry Cassiel," the Queen said softly, "then perhaps we should respect her sincerity."
The King looked exhausted.
At last, he rubbed his temple and sighed. "Very well."
His gaze settled on Elysia once more.
"You have no family left, and Cassiel cannot currently manage such matters himself. The palace will oversee the wedding arrangements."
Elysia bowed deeply again.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
This time, she would never repeat the mistakes of her previous life.
Cassiel was the safest choice available to her.
For now, he remained unconscious, which meant she had time—time to rebuild her future on her own terms.
And if fate followed the same course as before, Cassiel would eventually awaken... only to spend the rest of his life confined to a wheelchair due to years of neglect and improper treatment.
At the very least, Elysia wished to repay the kindness he once showed her.
She would help him recover.
Help him heal.
And when he finally regained his strength, she would ask him for a peaceful divorce.
Surely a man like Cassiel would never truly wish to marry her.
Across the banquet hall, Vaelen watched her silently.
An unfamiliar irritation twisted inside him.
"She actually chose Cassiel?" Sylrienne Drakemont muttered in disbelief beside him. "Elysia really might be the most foolish girl in the kingdom."
Vaelen’s expression darkened slightly.
Sylrienne leaned closer with a grin. "I give her less than a week before she regrets this."
"That has nothing to do with me," Vaelen replied coldly.
Yet his eyes lingered on Elysia far longer than they should have.
After the banquet, Elysia returned to Hartwell Manor.
The familiar gardens, the quiet corridors, the scent of cedarwood lingering throughout the estate...
For the first time in years, she no longer felt trapped.
She entered her chamber and collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion.
She was home.
And this time, she no longer needed to spend her life chasing Vaelen’s affection.
The thought alone brought her peace.
Over the following days, Elysia rested quietly at Hartwell Manor, slowly recovering from the exhaustion of both her memories and her grief.
Several days later, Hilda arrived at the estate.
As one of the Queen’s longtime attendants, Hilda carried herself with calm warmth that naturally put others at ease.
She greeted Elysia with a gentle smile.
"His Majesty has entrusted all wedding arrangements to Her Majesty," Hilda explained. "The Queen has already begun preparing everything herself. Today, she wishes to select an auspicious wedding date and hopes you might come to the palace to help."
Elysia hesitated.
"I’m not particularly knowledgeable about such matters," she admitted softly. "Her Majesty may choose whichever date she finds suitable. I have no objections."
Hilda laughed quietly. "Even ordinary families consult the bride before finalizing a wedding date," she teased kindly. "You should come, my lady. Besides..."
She paused briefly.
"Her Majesty mentioned she has not seen you properly in quite some time and wishes to speak with you privately."
A private conversation?
Elysia fell silent for a moment.
In both this life and the last, the Queen had never particularly liked her. Their relationship had always remained distant and polite at best.
Still, Hilda’s sincerity made refusal difficult.
By late afternoon, Elysia entered the palace once more.
Servants guided her along the stone pathways leading toward the Queen’s central residence. The setting sun bathed the cobblestones in warm gold as the evening breeze drifted quietly through the gardens.
Elysia kept her gaze lowered, watching the shifting light across the ground beneath her feet.
Then suddenly—
"Your Highness."
Hilda bowed respectfully.
Elysia froze.
Slowly, she lifted her head.
Vaelen stood several steps ahead.
Tall. Immaculate. Cold.
The fading sunlight only sharpened the noble perfection of his features.
His dark eyes settled on her immediately, sharp and assessing.
Even now, that gaze still made Elysia’s chest tighten instinctively.
She lowered her eyes at once and stepped aside with a restrained bow.
"Your Highness."
Vaelen frowned slightly.
In the past, Elysia always found excuses to encounter him.
She memorized his routines, timed her visits to the Queen carefully, and often brought pastries she baked herself just for him.
He never ate them.
Most were discarded untouched.
But today, she carried nothing.
No pastry box.
No eager smile.
Nothing at all.
So this was her newest strategy?
After publicly declaring at the banquet that she no longer cared for him, she now pretended indifference instead.
How childish.
A faintly mocking smile curved Vaelen’s lips.
"Really, Elysia?" he drawled lazily.
His gaze swept over her coolly.
"Is this your idea of playing hard to get?"
He let out a quiet chuckle.
"Honestly, it’s becoming rather boring."