"Any last words, Lady Nightshade?"
The question rang out through the courtyard like a sick joke.
Seraphina Nightshade lifted her chin, even as blood trickled down from the corner of her mouth. Her crimson gown—once the envy of the capital—was now a soaked, torn mess. Rain fell in fat, cold drops, mixing with the dark red stains that painted the cobblestones beneath her knees. Shackled and bruised, she still looked every bit the noblewoman she'd been born to be.
Her golden hair, matted and tangled, clung to her face. Her wrists were raw from the chains that bound her, but her back remained straight. If she was going to die, she'd do it with dignity.
Across from the raised platform, nobles watched from their gilded seats under silk canopies. Peasants swarmed the square, pressed up against the barricades like starved animals sniffing blood. The whole city had gathered to see the "wicked" Lady Nightshade brought to justice.
And there, at the front, stood Crown Prince Kael, her ex-fiancé. Once, he'd promised her the world. Now, he watched with cold indifference, his arm draped around Lady Arabelle Whitmore—the very snake who'd orchestrated this farce.
Seraphina looked at them both, feeling nothing but a dull ache in her chest.
Not heartbreak. Just disgust at her own gullibility.
Once upon a time, Kael was the love of her life. Giving him her loyalty, her trust—hell, even saved his life more than once.
And this was how he repaid her. Public execution based on forged letters and a single teary-eyed performance from his newest obsession.
She let out a laugh. It was short, bitter, and unexpected enough to silence the murmurs in the crowd.
"I suppose," she said, eyes locked on Kael, "I do have a few last words."
He raised an eyebrow. "Make them count, traitor."
"Oh, I will. I'd like to file a formal complaint."
Kael frowned. "About what?"
"This script sucks."
A ripple of confusion ran through the square. People exchanged glances. Arabelle's smug smile froze.
"What did you just say?" she whispered, her voice barely audible from her place beside Kael.
Seraphina smiled—sharp, feral, unrepentant. "You heard me."
"I see the madness has fully set in," Kael said with a scoff. "Execute her."
The headsman grunted and raised his blade. Seraphina did not flinch. She closed her eyes and welcomed the blackness.
But instead of pain...
There was static.
---
Somewhere Between Death and Glitch
A sharp beep echoed through nothingness.
> [System initializing…]
[Error. Error. Timeline irregularity detected.]
[Backup protocol engaging…]
Silence. Then:
> [Welcome, User: Seraphina Nightshade.]
[You have been granted one (1) do-over. Try not to screw it up this time.]