Part 1: The Gallows Beneath the Stars
The night air reeked of death, perfumed by burning incense and the scent of blood-soaked roses.
High atop the obsidian platform in the Royal Execution Square, Seraphina Valen stood with her chin lifted, bound in enchanted manacles that hummed with golden chains of suppression. Her once-radiant crimson hair clung to her pale cheeks, drenched in rain and shame. Her royal violet dress was torn, ripped where blades had tried to find her heart. And her eyes—goddess, her eyes—still burned like fire against the darkness, refusing to cry.
A crowd had gathered to witness her fall.
Nobles with jeweled masks and judgmental smiles. Commoners with stones in their hands and curses on their tongues. Her family—what remained of them—stood on the balcony above, silent, untouched. And before her, standing like justice incarnate, was the man she had once sworn to love.
Crown Prince Kaelrith Elion.
His silver hair was tied in a perfect knot, as always. His armor bore the sigil of the imperial sun, gleaming in the torchlight. And his eyes—cold and blue as frozen stars—met hers without flinching.
"You are charged with high treason, the murder of Duke Halrowe, and consorting with the Forsaken Mages," the High Inquisitor boomed beside him.
A pause.
The Prince stepped forward.
"I, Kaelrith Elion, Crown Prince of the Empire, hereby sentence you, Seraphina of House Valen, to death."
The silence that followed was not empty. It was pregnant—with betrayal, with fury, with memory.
Seraphina tilted her head. "And what of your promises, Your Highness?" she whispered, her voice soft but sharp enough to bleed. "You once said you'd protect me until your dying breath."
Kaelrith's jaw clenched. For a moment, something flickered in his gaze—guilt? doubt?—but it vanished, swallowed by frost.
"I meant them... until I saw the truth."
The crowd erupted in approval. Shouts. Jeers. A stone flew. It struck her shoulder, but she didn't flinch.
She locked eyes with Kaelrith, and then—
She smiled.
Not a mad smile. Not broken. But the kind of smile that comes when you've lost everything, and something greater is born from the ashes.
"I'll remember this," she said softly. "When I return from the grave, Kaelrith Elion... I'll remember the way you smiled as you killed me."
His lips parted, but before he could speak, the executioner raised his great sword.
A flash of lightning split the sky. Thunder cracked like a god's curse.
And the world turned to darkness.
Part 2: The Moment of Return
Seraphina did not feel the blade. There was no pain, no warmth of blood or scream of agony.
There was only silence.
And then—stars.
A sky filled with a thousand constellations spinning above her, each one burning with a strange rhythm. She was floating in a sea of black velvet stitched with silver thread, the cosmos stretching infinitely in all directions. Something ancient brushed against her skin, as if a deity's fingers had pulled her from the brink of oblivion.
"You are not finished yet," a voice whispered. It was neither male nor female—just… vast.
Seraphina opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, light burst from her chest—her soul, fractured but burning with purpose.
"You still have one wish left, child of stardust."
She remembered it all—the betrayal, the blade, Kaelrith's eyes, her family's silence.
"I want to live," she thought. "I want to rewrite everything. I want to make him regret it all."
Wish granted.
The stars exploded.
Part 3: Thirteen Years Earlier
Seraphina jolted upright with a gasp, drenched in sweat. Her lungs burned, her hands trembled—and her throat wasn't slit. She was... alive?
She blinked rapidly, heart racing as she looked around the familiar room: moonlight filtered through tall arched windows draped with crimson curtains, and a dozen spell-scrolls lined her polished wooden desk. She recognized the soft purr of her spirit beast, Nyx, coiled at the foot of her bed.
Her eyes widened. "This… This is my bedroom. The east wing of the Valen Estate."
She stumbled to the mirror across from her bed and gasped.
A child's face stared back. Hers. Thirteen years younger.
Her body had shrunk. Her cheeks were softer, free of the scars and lines fate had etched over time. She was no longer a twenty-three-year-old traitor queen standing on the execution stage. She was a thirteen-year-old noble girl… in the year the empire first began hunting the Forsaken Mages.
"I'm back," she whispered.
Back before Kaelrith betrayed her.
Back before she was framed.
Back before the war tore through the empire.
This time… she would be the blade, not the victim.
Part 4: The Fire Within
It didn't take long for Seraphina to verify the timeline. The morning bells tolled six times from the White Spire, and the maids who arrived with breakfast wore the navy uniforms her mother had designed just before the change in seasons.
She was exactly seven days away from her betrothal ceremony—the day she first met Prince Kaelrith.
This was her chance.
But Seraphina also remembered something else. A secret hidden from most nobles. The reason she was executed.
She hadn't murdered Duke Halrowe. He'd been slaughtered by a Forsaken Mage—one of the ancient sorcerers exiled for practicing blood alchemy.
But she had helped that mage escape.
Not out of cruelty or rebellion, but because he had shown her the truth: that the Empire was lying. That the royal bloodline was cursed, not divine. That the "Forsaken" were once the protectors of balance.
And now… now she had the chance to stop it all before it began.
But first—Kaelrith.
Seraphina stared out the window as the sun rose over the capital's domed towers. She remembered his kiss. The way his smile could disarm a kingdom. And the cold betrayal in his eyes when he ordered her death.
He was still the same charming monster.
And this time, she would seduce the prince before he could seduce her.
Part 5: The First Encounter
The Valen estate was alive with anticipation the day Kaelrith arrived. He came not as the prince, but as a guest—masked in gold, with his entourage of imperial knights and scholars. It was a formal visit under the guise of a "cultural exchange," but everyone knew the truth.
The Emperor was considering Seraphina Valen as the Crown Princess candidate.
Thirteen-year-old Seraphina, once naive and docile, now watched her future executioner with sharp, hidden intent.
When their eyes met across the ballroom, Kaelrith paused. Just briefly. Something in her gaze was too sharp, too knowing.
He bowed. "Lady Seraphina, your reputation precedes you."
"And yours hasn't yet caught up to you," she replied with a graceful smile.
He blinked, amused. "A witty tongue for a young noble."
"I find it helps with venom," she said.
The courtiers laughed politely, but Kaelrith studied her. "I look forward to speaking with you again."
"I'm sure you do."
She curtsied, spun, and walked away. Every step was a triumph. Because she had seen his death. She had seen his crown shatter.
And this time, the girl he betrayed would become the queen who destroyed him.
Part 6: A Dangerous Promise
That night, Seraphina returned to her chamber and opened her secret vault. Hidden behind an illusion rune was a collection of forbidden texts she would only come to acquire years later—except now she knew where to find them early.
She summoned the first: "Bloodlines of the Cursed Sun."
Kaelrith's bloodline. The Elion family. The ones who made a pact with the fallen star gods, exchanging their emotions for power. That was why Kaelrith could betray so easily—he'd sacrificed his ability to love to secure the throne.
But emotions could be reclaimed. And curses could be broken.
As the stars rose again outside her window, Seraphina made a vow.
"I will break your curse, Kaelrith. And when you finally feel again… you'll feel regret. You'll feel love. And you'll feel the pain of losing me."