Leorick Valmont jolted awake, his heart racing. His senses immediately sharpened, catching the faint scent of lavender and old parchment, the dim glow of the morning sun creeping through heavy curtains. It felt so... familiar. Yet there was something off. His bedchambers were not this modest the last time he had checked, nor had he been waking up to the creaking sounds of doors opening without his permission.
"Your Majesty, forgive the intrusion."
Leorick blinked, still groggy from sleep, but the voice was unmistakable. Duke Rembrandt, with his thick mustache and grating sense of urgency, loomed at the doorway like a persistent shadow.
"What in the name of the gods are you doing here, Rembrandt?" Leorick's voice, though hoarse from slumber, carried the authority that only a king could muster. "I wasn't aware we started waking kings up before breakfast now."
The Duke shifted awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. "There's a… meeting. With the nobles and council. It's, uh, somewhat pressing."
"A meeting?" Leorick groaned, rubbing his temples. "Since when do I forget a meeting?"
Since when did he attend them, more like? He sat up fully now, the strangeness of the situation dawning on him. The council… the nobles… Why did it feel like—
The realization hit him like a bucket of ice water. No. It couldn't be. Leorick's blood turned cold. This meeting.
He shot to his feet, nearly knocking Duke Rembrandt out of the way in his rush to the door. This meeting had already happened.
Leorick had been here before. The council chambers, the proposition, the talks of a marriage to… his breath caught. Seraphine Everhart. His savior.
He was back. Back in time.
Struggling to contain the flurry of emotions—shock, confusion, maybe a pinch of hysteria—he stormed into the council chamber. There they were, seated just as they had been all those years ago. The nobles in their opulence, the council members wearing their perpetual masks of wisdom (and thinly veiled greed), and at the head of the table, an empty chair meant for him. His former life crashed back in vivid detail, the mistakes he'd made, the regrets he carried, and—Seraphine.
"Ah, Your Majesty," one of the council members greeted with a smugness that made Leorick want to punch him. "We were just discussing the matter of your curse."
Leorick took a seat, heart still pounding. He had to keep himself in check, though all he wanted was to laugh in their faces. If only they knew what he knew. They went on about how this marriage would secure a cure, how Seraphine's noble lineage would fortify alliances, blah, blah, blah.
"Enough," Leorick interrupted, his voice stronger now, clearer. "I know what you're all about to say. That Seraphine Everhart is the only one capable of lifting the curse. And yes, you're all so eager to propose the most obvious solution: marriage." He waved a hand, looking at them with a glint of amusement in his eyes.
Some of the council members exchanged confused glances. He was right, of course, but how did he know?
"Well, let me save you all the trouble," Leorick continued with a half-smirk. "I'll marry Seraphine, but I won't be forced into it like last time. I will properly propose to her myself."
Gasps filled the chamber. The Duke, always fond of dramatics, seemed on the verge of fainting. One of the nobles dropped a quill, staring at Leorick like he had just proposed to a dragon instead of a woman.
"You… you intend to… propose to her yourself?" stuttered Lord Dering, a particularly pompous man who had likely never entertained the notion that a king could do anything without a council's blessing.
"Indeed," Leorick replied, standing from his chair and brushing off the stunned silence. "I shall meet her today, in person. And this time, I intend to make things right."
He didn't wait for their response, pushing open the doors to leave. The murmur of disbelief behind him faded as he strode through the castle hallways, his mind spinning with thoughts of Seraphine.
He remembered her. Her kindness, her grace, and the gentle fierceness that had saved him more times than he cared to admit. But he had been a fool in his first life. He hadn't appreciated her the way she deserved. This time would be different. He would see her face, feel her presence, and start anew.
Leorick felt a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety as he approached Seraphine's estate. Would she recognize him? How could she—she hadn't yet saved him. But he knew her. The curse had taken so much from him in his past life, but the memories of her were burned into his soul. He wouldn't let her slip through his fingers again.
He arrived, heart in his throat, and knocked at the door. The seconds felt like hours until the door swung open to reveal Seraphine.
"Duke Leorick?" she gasped, clearly shocked by the sight of him standing there in broad daylight. "What are you doing here? I was about to take a walk."
Her voice was just as he remembered—soft, but with an underlying strength. Leorick gave her a smile, one that held a century of unspoken emotion.
"I've come to propose," he said, and then added quickly, "Properly, this time."
Seraphine blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Propose? To me?"
"Yes." He chuckled. "It's a long story. One you may not fully believe."
She stared at him, incredulous, before folding her arms. "Try me."
"Well," Leorick began, scratching his chin as he struggled to condense the insanity of his situation into something that didn't make him sound like a madman. "Let's just say, this isn't the first time I've had this conversation with you. Though last time, I was a bit more… cursed."
Seraphine's mouth twitched as if fighting back a laugh. "You've lost me."
"I'll explain over tea?" he offered, attempting to sound suave.
Seraphine tilted her head, a faint smile on her lips. "Tea, huh? Fine. But this had better be one hell of a story."
Leorick grinned, feeling lighter than he had in years. Yes, this time, things would be different. This time, he would make things right.
And this time, he would win her heart the way he should have from the start.