PROLOGUE
959 Words
"The Day the Kingdom Buried Its Queen"
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The bells of the capital rang seven times.
Not for a wedding.
Not for a victory.
But for the execution of their queen.
Thousands filled the Royal Square, their faces bright with excitement instead of sorrow. Children sat on their fathers' shoulders to get a better view. Merchants abandoned their stalls. Noble ladies hid amused smiles behind jeweled fans.
Today was history.
Today, Queen Seraphina Ashbourne would die.
Heavy iron chains scraped against the stone as the palace gates opened.
Clank.
Clank.
Clank.
The crowd fell silent.
A woman dressed in a torn white gown stepped into the light.
Her once-beautiful golden embroidery had faded beneath dirt and dried blood. Bruises marked her wrists where the shackles had rubbed her skin raw.
Yet despite everything...
She walked with her head held high.
Like a queen.
Silver-white petals drifted through the wind, landing at her feet as if the heavens themselves mourned the woman the kingdom had already condemned.
Somewhere in the crowd, someone spat.
"Traitor."
Another voice followed.
"Murderer!"
"Witch!"
"She poisoned the late Queen Mother!"
"She tried to assassinate His Majesty!"
The insults came one after another.
Seraphina didn't react.
She had spent the last three years in the Black Tower hearing worse.
She had learned that lies, when repeated often enough, sounded exactly like truth.
At the center of the execution platform stood the man she had once loved with every beat of her heart.
King Adrian Ashbourne.
The man she had married beneath the blessing of a thousand candles.
The man she believed would grow old beside her.
The man who now looked at her as though she were a stranger.
No...
Not even a stranger.
An inconvenience.
Standing at his side was Lady Vivienne Ashcroft.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Wrapped in a white silk gown almost identical to Seraphina's wedding dress.
Vivienne's hand rested possessively around Adrian's arm.
She smiled.
A sweet smile.
The same smile she had worn years ago when she swore eternal loyalty to her queen.
Seraphina almost laughed.
How foolish she had been.
She had trusted the woman who slowly stole everything she owned.
Her crown.
Her husband.
Her reputation.
Her future.
But none of those losses compared to what happened next.
A tiny hand slipped into Vivienne's.
Seraphina's breath caught.
Prince Lucien.
The little boy she had raised from infancy.
The child she carried through sleepless nights when nightmares frightened him.
The child whose first steps she had celebrated.
The child who used to run into her arms calling—
"Mother!"
Tears burned behind Seraphina's eyes as she smiled at him.
"Lucien..."
The six-year-old prince stared back with frightened blue eyes.
For a heartbeat...
She thought he would run to her.
Instead...
He hid behind Vivienne.
His tiny fingers clutched the woman's dress.
"Mother..."
He whispered.
"I'm scared."
Vivienne knelt gracefully and stroked his hair.
"Don't worry, my prince."
"She can't hurt you anymore."
Lucien slowly looked at Seraphina.
His innocent face twisted with fear.
Then...
In a voice so soft only the silence allowed everyone to hear—
"Don't come near my mother."
The world stopped.
Seraphina felt something inside her break.
Not her heart.
Her soul.
The crowd applauded.
Some even laughed.
King Adrian never looked away.
"Do you have any final words?" the High Chancellor asked.
A cold breeze swept across the square.
Seraphina slowly raised her head.
She looked at Adrian.
Then Vivienne.
Then Lucien.
Finally...
She turned toward the people who had once called her their queen.
Her voice was calm.
"So this is justice?"
Silence.
"I loved this kingdom more than my own life."
No one answered.
"I loved my husband."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"I loved a child who wasn't born from my blood..."
Her gaze lingered on Lucien.
"...and I would have died protecting him."
Lucien looked away.
A single tear rolled down Seraphina's cheek.
She smiled.
Not with sorrow.
With acceptance.
"You may erase my name from your history."
"You may call me a traitor."
"You may celebrate my death."
She lifted her chained hands toward the dark sky.
"But remember this."
Her voice echoed across the kingdom.
"The truth does not die with the innocent."
The clouds rumbled.
Lightning split the heavens.
For the first time all day...
Fear appeared in Adrian's eyes.
Seraphina closed hers.
The executioner raised his sword.
The blade gleamed beneath the storm.
One swing.
One heartbeat.
One queen.
Darkness.
...
A familiar scent drifted into the void.
White lilies.
Warm sunlight.
The soft melody of a music box.
Seraphina's eyelashes fluttered.
"...Your Majesty?"
A maid's trembling voice reached her ears.
She opened her eyes.
She wasn't in the execution square.
She wasn't in the Black Tower.
She was standing before an enormous gilded mirror inside the royal dressing chamber.
No chains.
No blood.
No scars.
Her reflection stared back at her.
Young.
Untouched.
Alive.
A maid bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty..."
"The wedding ceremony begins in one hour."
Seraphina's heartbeat stopped.
Wedding?
Slowly...
Very slowly...
She turned toward the open window.
Outside, white roses decorated every corner of the palace.
The same decorations.
The same morning.
The same day.
The day she married King Adrian.
Three years before her execution.
She touched her own face with trembling fingers.
Warm.
Real.
Not a dream.
A second chance.
Her reflection smiled.
It wasn't the smile of the gentle queen the kingdom remembered.
It was the smile of a woman who had returned from death.
This time...
She would not beg.
She would not forgive.
And she would never wear the chains they forged for her again.
The Queen had returned.
This time, the kingdom would learn why they should never bury a woman who still had a crown to reclaim.
End of Prologue
- Writer
