A Crown of Woven Thorns

You know that moment when you blink, and the world rearranges itself? I always thought parallel dimensions would feel grander. More...theatrical. Maybe a c***k of lightning. A chorus of angels. Certainly not this: me, Alexandria Falcon, standing in the middle of a royal ballroom with a champagne flute in one hand and a dagger strapped to my thigh, realizing with slow, dawning horror that everyone here is someone I know. The boy who sat behind me in Calculus I? Now he's the Captain of the Guard. My dorm roommate? The Marquess' daughter. And him—Alden, sweet, good Alden—here, he's the Prince Albert. Except he isn't. Oh, he has Alden's face. His voice. Even that little scar above his left eyebrow from when he fell off his bike at twelve. But the way he looks at me? Like I'm a puzzle he wants to take apart with his teeth? That's new. They tell me I've always belonged here. That my memories of neon-lit streets and university libraries are fever dreams. That I'm Lady Alexandria of House Falcon, betrothed to the future king since birth. But here's what they don't know: One, I remember everything. Two, the prince is hiding something. And three, this world is dying. And the worst part? I think I'm the only one who can save it...or not.