The dim glow of the moon barely illuminated the cold, desolate chamber. In the farthest corner of the room, a young woman sat curled up, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her delicate frame trembled as silent tears streamed down her porcelain cheeks, glistening like fallen stars.
Amelia Florian.
The name once carried weight, admiration, and even envy. She was the cherished daughter of Duke Eiden Florian and his wife, Lilith. The youngest among her siblings, she had been raised with love, protected like the most precious gem in the world.
She was the beloved princess of the Florian household, showered with affection, treated like royalty by all within the estate. Her brothers would have done anything for her happiness. She had been lucky, blessed with a life of luxury and security.
Until two years ago.
Something had happened—something that shattered her perfect world. Yet, that wasn't why she was crying tonight.
Tonight, Amelia wept because she had been betrayed.
Betrayed by the man she had loved more than anything.
She had loved him because he was there when she needed him the most. She had loved him because he had offered her solace when the world felt cruel. She had loved him because, in her naivety, she had believed that he alone would cherish her as she deserved.
She had loved him… because she had been a fool.
Blinded by devotion, she had failed to see past the perfect mask he wore. She had trusted him, believed in his words, in his promises.
And for what?
To be discarded like a broken pawn once her use was over?
---
Amelia's POV:
"I hate him. I will never forgive him. I did everything… everything for him.
I betrayed my own husband for him. I killed my husband with my own hands just so that he could take the throne. I wanted to see him succeed. I wanted to see him seated on that throne, the crown glistening atop his wretched head.
And what did he do?
He betrayed me.
Why? Why? Why?!"
---
A sudden wave of dizziness overtook her, her breath growing shallow. Her vision blurred, and her body felt unnaturally heavy.
Something was wrong.
She coughed, a sharp pain searing through her chest. She covered her mouth with trembling fingers—only to find them stained with crimson.
Blood.
She looked down, her horror deepening at the sight of the floor—now splattered with the same red hue.
Her head throbbed violently, as if being torn apart from the inside.
"W-why am I… feeling like this…?" she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.
Her body collapsed, crashing against the cold, unforgiving floor.
Footsteps.
A slow, deliberate stride echoed through the chamber.
"Dead already?" A voice—cold and mocking—cut through the silence. "That's too bad. I wanted to kill you in a more… satisfying manner."
Amelia tried to lift her head, but her vision was failing her. The figure standing before her was nothing more than a blur.
"W…who…?" she rasped, barely able to form the words.
The figure stepped closer, her presence suffocating.
"Tsk." The woman clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Pathetic."
Amelia barely registered the cruel kick to her stomach before another fit of coughing wracked her frail body. More blood spilled from her lips.
A merciless hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head up.
"How does it feel, Amelia?" the woman taunted. "To be betrayed by the one you loved the most?"
That voice—so familiar.
Yet, Amelia's mind was slipping into darkness, making it impossible to recognize her assailant.
"Such a weakling," the woman sneered before releasing her grip. Amelia collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air. But no matter how hard she fought, her breath wouldn't come.
Her body refused to move.
Her heartbeat slowed.
Her eyelids grew heavy.
Then—nothing.
A deep, endless void swallowed her whole.
---
"Is she dead?" A second voice, smoother, yet dripping with satisfaction, echoed in the chamber.
"I guess she is." The woman scoffed before stepping away from Amelia's lifeless form.
A cruel smirk twisted the lips of the newcomer. "Looks like our plan worked perfectly."
"Yes," the woman agreed. "It certainly did."
---
A chill breeze caressed her skin, carrying the scent of earth and dew. Amelia's eyelids fluttered open, her senses overwhelmed by the unfamiliar surroundings.
Tall trees stretched high above her, their emerald leaves whispering in the wind. The sky, painted in hues of twilight, hinted at the arrival of dawn.
She sat up abruptly, her breath ragged.
"W-where am I?" she murmured, her voice hoarse. "I thought I died... Was it all just a dream?"
"No," a voice replied, smooth yet eerily inhuman. "That wasn't a dream."
Amelia's heart nearly leapt out of her chest.
She turned sharply, her eyes landing on the source of the voice.
A fox.
A silver-furred fox with piercing golden eyes stared at her with an unsettling intelligence.
For a moment, she simply gawked.
Then—
"AAAAARGGGHHHHHHHHH!"
Her scream pierced the quiet of the forest.
The fox sighed, as if dealing with an overdramatic child. "Really? That's your reaction?"
Amelia scrambled back, her body shaking. "A… a talking fox?! This must be a dream! I'm going crazy!"
The fox's eyes glowed faintly. "I told you already. This isn't a dream."
Amelia clutched her head, confusion and panic warring within her. "No, no, no—this can't be real! I was… I was supposed to be dead!"
The fox's gaze never wavered. "Oh, you were dead. But now… you are something far more interesting."
Amelia froze, her breath hitching.
"What… what do you mean?" she whispered.
The fox tilted its head, a knowing glint in its golden eyes.
"Let's just say… you have a second chance."