In my past life, I stood before the gates of House Valerius, my belly swollen with child. My heart fluttered with a nervous hope as I looked upon Lord Alaric, a man who seemed carved from marble and starlight. “My lord,” I’d said, “I am with child. And the child is yours.” I got my wish. I became the lady of the house. Everyone said I was blessed by fortune. What they didn’t know was that from that day forward, Alaric never again set foot in my chambers. I learned later that he had been on the verge of marrying another, the very day after I arrived. Now, reborn, I stand before him once more. But before I can utter a word, he snatches the token from my hand. His voice is a blade of ice against my ear. “You will not say the child is mine.” “This time,” he hissed, “I will not marry you.” And in that moment, I knew. He had been reborn, too. Good. This time, I had no intention of marrying him either. 1 The Dowager Duchess, Lady Elara, followed him into the grand hall, just as she had in my past life. “Young woman,” she asked, her voice gentle but firm. “May we know the reason for your visit?” Alaric’s gaze was a physical weight, a silent, menacing warning. My eyes fell upon Lady Elara, and a wave of sorrow washed over me, so sharp it almost brought me to tears. If there was one person in my past life who had shown me any kindness, it was her. I bit my lip, the words catching in my throat. “My lady, I came seeking you.” She stilled, her eyes locking onto mine. After a long moment, her voice trembled. “Are you… are you Lyra’s girl? From House Thorne?” I had only learned the truth after entering their home in my previous life. My grandmother, Lyra Thorne, and Lady Elara were not only cousins but had been the closest of friends in their youth. But then, disaster struck House Thorne, and I was left an orphan. And I, it was said, was the very image of my grandmother. A fresh wave of grief passed over Lady Elara’s face. She sighed, her gaze shifting from me to Alaric, who stood silent and watchful. A sad smile touched her lips. “You children wouldn’t know, but there was an old pact between our families. A childhood betrothal between you and Alaric. But then… House Thorne fell, and we lost all trace of you…” Her eyes fell to my stomach. “And now you are with child. Who is the father? Why would he let you travel to the capital of Aethelgard alone?” I looked up. Alaric’s eyes were on me, cold and guarded. Six months ago, an accident. A night of fevered passion with Alaric, who had been drugged. He was gone before dawn, leaving behind only a whispered promise—“If you ever find yourself in trouble, seek me in Aethelgard”—and, pressed beneath my pillow, a silver signet marked with twin serpents. In my last life, he had married me, forced by the existence of his heir and the will of his grandmother. He lost his true love and condemned me to a lifetime of cold neglect. This time, he had already taken the signet, severing any link between us. Good. I had no desire to chain myself to him again. I heard my own voice, distant and steady. “The father of this child…” I paused, feeling Alaric’s stare. “I do not know who he is.” 2 The air in the room, thick with the scent of incense, seemed to lighten. Alaric’s rigid posture relaxed ever so slightly. The Dowager Duchess frowned, her gaze gentle but searching. “My dear girl… were you accosted by some brigand?” A bitter ache rose in my throat. I nodded, then quickly shook my head. That night was not of my choosing, but this child… this child was a choice I had made. At six months, it was far too late for any other path. Lady Elara fell into a thoughtful silence. “Do you recall any marks upon the man?” she asked finally. “House Valerius has some influence. Alaric could make inquiries for you. If he is a decent man, perhaps…” Alaric smoothly interjected, “Indeed. Lady Cora, if you need anything, you have but to ask.” He stood with his back to the light, a silhouette of feigned concern. His dark eyes, half-lidded, held a glint of something deeper. My mind was a whirlwind. “I believe… there was something on his shoulder,” I said, the words coming out before I could stop them. Alaric spun around, his eyes flashing with a sharp, veiled fury. Only then did I remember. He, too, had a small, crimson mole on his shoulder. A flash of a bare back, muscles tense in the moonlight, seared through my memory. “A birthmark,” I stammered, correcting myself. “A crescent moon.” He visibly relaxed and gave a slight nod. “Rest assured, Lady Cora. I will do everything in my power to find him. We will find you a worthy match.” He put a heavy, pointed emphasis on the last words, a clear message. I managed a bitter smile. I hadn't realized just how desperate he was to be rid of me. In my last life, I had been too lost in my foolish joy to see it. 3 I was given rooms in the estate’s Serene Garden wing. The Dowager Duchess arranged for a master healer to attend to me, prescribing tonics to ensure the health of my child. The very next day, the lady of House Beaumont arrived to formally accept the betrothal between our families. The match was for her second daughter, Isolde. Alaric’s true love. Lady Isolde was a proud woman. In my past life, when she learned of my entanglement with Alaric, she had broken the engagement without a second thought. Now, with me out of the picture, they could finally have their happy ending. After seeing the healer out, I spent some time feeding the koi in the pond before heading back to my rooms. As I rounded a covered walkway, I came upon a familiar scene. In the courtyard, Lady Isolde sat on a wooden swing, her smile as sweet as summer wine. Alaric stood behind her, pushing her gently, his own eyes soft with affection. Isolde’s gaze drifted over and found me. Her smile faltered. Then, she lifted her chin, her voice carrying across the yard. “Alaric, my love, why is there a pregnant woman staying at your family estate?” Alaric’s eyes met mine, his face tightening almost imperceptibly. “She is the daughter of an old friend of my grandmother’s. We are merely offering her shelter until her child’s father can be found.” I gave a small nod of acknowledgement and walked away. Shelter. House Valerius was vast. His words were not about charity; they were a warning. He feared I would cause trouble and wanted me gone. Later that afternoon, before I could rest, a maid announced a visitor. Lord Alaric. His expression was dark, his eyes like polished obsidian pressing down on me. “You knew Isolde was here. Why did you have to show yourself? Or is this another one of your schemes to force me to break my betrothal?” I took a step back, shaking my head. “You worry for nothing, my lord. I have no such intention.” His brow remained furrowed. He stared at me for a long moment before speaking again. “I know you carry my child. I know you are unhappy that I will not claim you.” He took a breath. “But rest easy. Once Isolde is my wife, I will find a way to take you as my mistress. Until then, you will remain quiet and cause no trouble. If you do, do not blame me for the consequences.” He stood cloaked in light and shadow, his reflection a dark stain on the floor. The coldness in his eyes was sharper than I had ever seen it. I stared at him, my voice a painful rasp when I finally spoke. “You need not worry, my lord. I have no wish to marry you. Once the child is born, I will leave.” He let out a short, disbelieving laugh and said no more. I knew he didn't believe me. After all, where could a ruined orphan like me possibly go? 4 After that, I avoided the main courtyards. If I happened to cross paths with Alaric, I would turn away. He seemed pleased by this, his demeanor toward me softening fractionally. A few days later, a messenger from the Dowager Duchess summoned me. She sat in a high-backed, mahogany chair, her expression strange. Her first words sent a jolt through me. “Cora, my dear. I know who the father of your child is.” I stumbled, nearly falling, but a steady hand caught my arm. “Oh, my heavens,” Lady Elara cried, patting her forehead in self-reproach. “Forgive me, I’ve frightened you.” My heart hammered against my ribs. Had she discovered the truth about me and Alaric? Once I was settled in a chair, she continued. “When you mentioned the birthmark, it felt familiar. I thought on it for days, and then I remembered. It was Lord Lucian Thorne, of the Obsidian Guard. I held him as a babe, just after he was born. I saw the mark myself.” She patted my hand, sighing. “Unfortunately, Lord Thorne is a… difficult man. Utterly ruthless. He cut ties with his own family after his mother’s death. People speak his name in whispers. He is not what one would call a good match.” My heart, which had just begun to settle, leaped back into my throat. The crescent moon birthmark… it was from a wounded soldier I had treated as a healer in the provincial town of Silverwood. I thought no one in the capital would ever know, so I’d used it as a convenient lie. I never imagined it would lead to this. Lucian Thorne. He was the King’s most feared enforcer, a notorious rival of Alaric Valerius. If he discovered I was pinning my child on him… I bit my lip. “My lady,” I said, my voice strained, “perhaps I was mistaken. The light was dim, it’s possible I saw it wrong…” She patted my hand again, a knowing smile on her face. “There, there. I know a young woman’s modesty. It’s too late for that, I’m afraid. I’ve already asked him. It was him.” My world tilted. “I gave him a thorough scolding,” she went on, “and told him you were with child. He was stunned for a moment, and then… he said he would marry you.” I stared at her, utterly speechless. “He… he said he would marry me?” “Of course!” Lady Elara nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Your belly is already so large. He cannot simply shirk his responsibility. He has agreed. He will have you wed as soon as it can be arranged.” My face went pale, my fingers twisting the handkerchief in my lap into a knot. “No,” I blurted out. “That’s not possible.” Lady Elara’s expression turned to one of disapproval. “Cora, House Thorne is noble, but he is a Lord of the Guard. For him to offer you the position of his lawful wife is a great honor. Do not let a moment of pride ruin this for you.” I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Whatever his reasons, I couldn't marry him. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone. She continued to persuade me. I fell silent, eventually giving a noncommittal nod. Very well. I would simply have to find an opportunity to speak with Lord Thorne myself and clear this up. 5 With Alaric’s wedding approaching, the estate was a hive of activity. Seizing a moment when no one was paying attention, I donned a veiled hat and went to the headquarters of the Obsidian Guard. I waited for what felt like an eternity until I finally saw a man matching the description, hailed as “Lord Thorne.” It had been so long, I barely recognized him. He wore the deep indigo robes of his office, his features sharp and his posture radiating a dangerous grace. He was a world away from the mud-caked, broken man I remembered. When I stepped into his path, he showed no annoyance. Instead, his dark eyes fixed on me with an unnerving intensity. I faltered for a second, then lowered my head. “My lord, the child I carry is—” “Not mine,” he finished for me, his expression unchanging. I looked up, my eyes wide with surprise. “You knew, and yet you still—” He met my gaze, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I am not so far gone that I don’t know which women I have bedded.” “Then why would you agree to marry me?” His lips curved into a true smile, a dangerous light dancing in his eyes. “The Dowager Duchess Valerius found me,” he said, his voice a low, smooth drawl. “Told me I had sullied the descendant of her dearest friend. Said the lady in question had personally identified the birthmark on my back and demanded I make amends. I thought long and hard, and the only ‘Lady Cora’ who fits the description is a certain healer from Silverwood.” He looked at me then, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You saved my life, Lady Cora. A life for a life. A fair trade, wouldn't you say? Your body for my name.” My eyes widened and I waved my hands frantically. “That’s not what I meant at all…” Seeing his amused expression, I realized he was teasing me. I pressed my lips together, my resolve hardening. I met his gaze directly. “I am grateful for your generosity, my lord. But if I were to marry you, it would be a disservice not only to the child’s true father, but also a great injustice to you. This was my mistake, and I have implicated you unfairly. If you are angry, direct it at me. But this marriage… it cannot happen.” The air went still. Lucian’s smile remained, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were deep, unreadable pools of chilling calm. Just as a cold sweat began to prickle my skin, he let out a long, slow sigh. “You do not wish to marry me. Very well. Your wish is granted.”
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