Reborn:I Chose the Cursed Wolf Prince

Chapter Three-The Saintess Arrives

Three weeks.

That was all the time I had before I became Kael Draven's wife.

Three weeks to prepare for a marriage that would change everything. Three weeks to outmaneuver enemies I hadn't even met yet. Three weeks to survive the chaos I had deliberately unleashed.

And three weeks for Seraphine to make her move.

THE FIRST WARNING

It came on the second day.

I was sitting in my father's study, reviewing documents he had given me—political alliances, trade agreements, names of nobles who might oppose my marriage to the Cursed Prince. My father had accepted my decision with surprising grace, but I could see the worry behind his eyes.

He was afraid for me.

He should be.

"Aurelia." Father's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "There's something you should know."

I looked up. "What is it?"

He hesitated, rubbing his temples. "The Saintess has arrived in Valoria."

My blood went cold.

"When?"

"This morning. She came with the royal procession from Elaris. King Aldric requested her presence personally." Father's expression darkened. "I don't know why she's here, but I don't like it. The timing is too convenient."

I set down the documents. My hands were trembling, but I forced them still.

"She's here because of me," I said quietly.

Father's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

I took a breath. I couldn't tell him everything—not yet. Not the poison, not the death, not the truth about Seraphine's ambitions. He would think I'd lost my mind.

But I could warn him.

"Seraphine is not what she appears," I said carefully. "She's not holy. She's not pure. Everything she does is calculated. Everything she touches, she destroys."

Father studied me for a long moment.

"You've never spoken about her like this before," he said slowly. "You used to admire her."

"People change," I said.

"People," he repeated. "Or circumstances?"

I didn't answer.

Father sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aurelia, whatever you know—whatever you've seen—I need you to be careful. The Saintess has power. Not just political power. Real power. People believe she speaks for the gods."

"I know."

"Then you also know that anyone who opposes her is branded a heretic. A traitor. An enemy of the faith."

I met his eyes. "I know, Father. But I also know that the truth always comes out. Eventually."

He didn't look convinced.

I couldn't blame him.

THE FESTIVAL

Two days later, the royal court hosted a festival in honor of the Saintess's visit.

It was a grand affair—torches lighting the palace gardens, music floating through the night air, nobles dressed in their finest silks and jewels. Everyone wanted to see her. Everyone wanted to be blessed by the woman who had supposedly spoken with the gods.

I wanted to throw up.

But I went. I had to. Hiding would only make me look guilty, and I couldn't afford suspicion. Not now. Not when everything was finally falling into place.

I wore a gown of deep midnight blue—not lavender, not white, not anything that might remind me of my first life. My hair was pinned up, silver flowers woven through the curls. My mother had helped me dress, her hands gentle on my shoulders.

"You look beautiful," she had said. "But you look worried."

I had smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Mother. Just nervous."

She hadn't believed me.

She never did.

THE FIRST SIGHTING

I saw Seraphine from across the garden.

She was surrounded by a crowd of nobles, all of them desperate for her attention. She was wearing white, as always—a gown of pristine silk that made her look like an angel descended from heaven. Her hair was golden, her eyes soft, her smile gentle.

She looked exactly as I remembered.

Beautiful. Pure. Perfect.

And utterly, completely dangerous.

My hands clenched at my sides.

I know what you are, I thought. I know what you've done. I know what you're planning. And I will not let you destroy me again.

Seraphine turned suddenly, as if she had heard my thoughts.

Our eyes met across the garden.

Her smile didn't falter.

But something flickered in her gaze—something cold and calculating.

She recognized me.

Of course she did. In my first life, she had made sure I died. And now that I was back, she was probably wondering why I was still alive.

She excused herself from the crowd and began walking toward me.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Don't panic. Don't show weakness. Don't let her see that you're afraid.

I forced my expression into something neutral—polite, welcoming, utterly unreadable.

"Lady Aurelia," Seraphine said warmly. Her voice was like honey—sweet, soothing, impossible to distrust. "I've heard so much about you."

I curtsied. "Saintess. It's an honor."

"Is it?" Her eyes searched mine. "I thought you might be angry with me."

I blinked. "Angry? Why would I be angry?"

"Because I'm friends with Crown Prince Lucien." She smiled, innocent and guileless. "I know the two of you had an arrangement. But I promise you, I never meant to come between you. Everything that happened was simply... fate."

I wanted to laugh.

Fate.

That was what she called it. The manipulation. The lies. The slow destruction of my reputation and my life.

"Fate," I repeated. "Yes. I suppose it was."

Seraphine tilted her head. "You seem... different, Lady Aurelia. I can't quite put my finger on it. But something about you has changed."

"You've only met me once before," I said smoothly. "People change over time."

"Of course they do." She stepped closer—too close. Her perfume was floral and sweet, cloying in the night air. "But sometimes, people change in ways that concern me. I hope that's not the case with you."

I met her eyes. "Concern you? Why would my changes concern you?"

Seraphine smiled.

It was the same smile she had worn the night I died.

"There's something I've always wanted to ask you," she murmured. "Do you believe in second chances?"

My blood ran cold.

"I believe," I said carefully, "that everyone should have the opportunity to make things right."

"Even when they've done terrible things?"

"Especially then."

Seraphine nodded slowly. "That's very generous of you. Very... forgiving."

"I'm not forgiving," I said. "I'm strategic."

She laughed—a soft, musical sound that made the nobles around us smile.

I wanted to slap it off her face.

"Strategic," she repeated. "I like that. I think we're going to be good friends, Lady Aurelia."

"Friends," I echoed.

"Close friends." Her eyes glittered. "I always take care of my friends."

She reached out and touched my hand—a brief, gentle gesture that looked affectionate to everyone watching.

But I felt it.

A strange chill spreading through my fingers. A whisper of something dark and ancient.

Magic.

She was using magic on me.

I jerked my hand back before she could do more.

Seraphine's smile didn't waver. But her eyes sharpened.

"Sensitive," she observed. "How interesting."

I forced my expression calm. "I'm not fond of strangers touching me."

"Of course. I apologize." She inclined her head. "I'll be staying in Valoria for the foreseeable future. I hope to see you often. We have so much to discuss."

She turned and walked away, her white gown trailing behind her like a bridal train.

I stood there, frozen, my heart pounding so loudly I could barely hear the music.

She knows, I thought. She knows something's different. She knows I'm not the same Aurelia who died at Lucien's hands.

But did she know the truth?

Did she know I had been reborn?

Or did she just sense that I was a threat?

THE WARNING

I left the festival early.

I couldn't stay there, surrounded by smiling faces and hidden knives. I needed air. Space. Time to think.

I walked through the palace gardens, my heels clicking against the stone path, my mind racing.

Seraphine was here.

In Valoria.

Which meant she was already moving against me.

I had to be faster.

I had to be smarter.

I had to—

"Lady Aurelia."

I spun around.

Kael Draven was standing in the shadows of the garden, his dark form barely visible in the moonlight. He was wearing black—as always—his hair rumpled, his eyes sharp.

"Prince Kael." I pressed a hand to my chest. "You startled me."

"Good."

I frowned. "Good?"

He stepped closer, emerging from the shadows. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something almost protective.

"Someone's been following you," he said quietly. "For three days now."

My heart stopped. "What?"

"Servants. Nobles. Even a few guards. All of them reporting back to the same person."

I didn't need to ask who.

"Seraphine," I whispered.

Kael nodded. "She's been watching you since the day you arrived. She knows you're a threat."

I swallowed hard. "How do you know this?"

"I have people too." His lips curved slightly. "Just because I'm cursed doesn't mean I'm stupid."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Thank you for telling me."

"I'm not telling you to thank me." He stepped closer—close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body. "I'm telling you to be careful. Whatever you're planning, whatever you know—it's more dangerous than you realize."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Seraphine isn't just a woman with political ambitions." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I've seen what she can do. I've seen the magic she hides beneath her holy mask. And believe me—" His eyes locked with mine. "She's far more dangerous than you can imagine."

I met his gaze without flinching. "I know."

Kael's eyes widened. Just slightly.

"Know?" he repeated. "What do you know?"

I took a breath.

Then I told him the truth.

"Seraphine is responsible for my death."