Chapter 1
My fiancé's childhood sweetheart had a peculiar habit: disguising herself as a man to frequent brothels.
Her reckless behavior led to disaster when she was drugged, violated, and left with a child.
On the day of the wedding, Edward Grant stood before me, his expression cold as he handed over a set of annulment papers.
"A woman's virtue is her life. I must give Charlotte and the child a name. Without it, she will surely perish," he declared stiffly.
I stared at him for a long moment, my heart numb with the memory of a past life. Then, with eerie calm, I unfastened my wedding gown and accepted the papers.
Once upon a time, I had refused this annulment. In a fit of righteous fury, I had exposed Charlotte Linwood's pregnancy in front of the entire congregation.
The scandal had destroyed her; she was disowned by her family, tarred and feathered by the mob, and finally drowned in the water.
Edward had watched her fate with indifference.
But after we married, his true cruelty emerged. He stripped me naked, locked me in a dungeon, and allowed his stable hands to take turns violating me.
"If it weren't for you, Charlotte would still be alive. Every bit of suffering she endured, I will make you pay a hundredfold!" he had snarled, his eyes filled with hatred.
I had died slowly, broken and in agony, finally realizing the depth of his loathing.
But then, the darkness lifted. I opened my eyes to find myself back in that very moment—standing in my wedding dress, as Edward held out the annulment papers.
*****
The veil trembled slightly as my fingernails dug into my palms.
The familiar scent of sandalwood mixed with the charred wax of church candles drifted into my nostrils.
Then Edward's voice tore through the sacred silence, words that would alter two lifetimes. "Vivian, I cannot marry you today."
The bridal bouquet of deep-red roses crumpled in my grip, velvet petals crushed beyond recognition.
A dead hush fell over the cathedral, broken only by the faint rustle of hundreds of gowns and suits as every guest turned to stare.
Through the thin lace of the veil, I felt their eyes—shock, glee, but most of all, the cold anticipation of watching the Prime Minister's daughter be humiliated on what should have been the most glorious day of her life.
"You fool! Do you realize what you're saying? Finish the ceremony now, or you'll disgrace the Grant family name for generations!" roared Edward's father, Nicholas Grant, Earl of Burriten.
The ceremonial sword at his waist quivered with his anger.
Back then, in my last life, I was shaking all over, so ashamed I wanted the ground to swallow me up.
Now, beneath the veil, my lips curved into a cold smile.
If heaven gave me another shot, there was no way I, Vivian Quinn, would let history repeat itself.
Just then, a fragile, tear-choked voice floated from the shadows near the side door—perfectly timed, perfectly pitiful.
"Edward... I should go. Don't ruin your future for my sake... or break Ms. Quinn's heart."
Edward's reply was instant, frantic. "Charlotte! Don't leave! I swear, no matter the cost, I will marry you!"
The pews erupted into whispers.
"Isn't that Charlotte Linwood, the Councilman's illegitimate daughter?"
"I heard she scrapped with her stepmother at the market last week—no decorum at all..."
"To steal the Prime Minister's daughter's fiancé... it's blasphemous."
Nicholas slammed his silver communion chalice to the marble floor. The sharp crack echoed through the vaulted ceilings. "Guards! Escort Edward to the chamber. This wedding will proceed!"
"Forgive us, Mr. Grant." Two armored guards moved forward.
I spoke then, my voice clear and cutting through the tension, "Stop."
Reaching up, I lifted the veil from my face.
Colored light from the stained-glass windows fell across my skin, illuminating the scene I remembered all too well—Edward in his crimson and gold brocade, clutching a young woman in a plain linen dress.
Charlotte peeked up at me, then buried her face against Edward's chest, shoulders shaking with sobs. But in that fleeting glance, I caught the faint, defiant gleam in her teary eyes.
Edward faltered for a second, startled by my composure, then his expression hardened with disgust. "Vivian, you—"
"Save your words, Mr. Grant." I cut him off, my gaze sweeping over the stunned guests and the pale-faced priest. "The engagement is off."
He hadn't expected that.
After a moment's hesitation, he tore a strip of white linen from the inner lining of his jacket, bit his thumb, and began to write.
Blood dripped onto the polished floor as he scrawled a formal release from our betrothal contract. Each drop was a dark, wet echo of the blood I'd left on a dungeon floor in my previous life.
"Vivian. Our engagement ends here."
He thrust the blood-stained linen toward me, his tone dripping with condescending pity. "You are the Prime Minister's daughter. Even ruined, you'll easily marry some other lord. But Charlotte... without me, she..."
"Would die?" I took the cloth, my fingertips brushing over the rusty stains. A soft laugh escaped me. "You worry too much, Mr. Grant. Ms. Linwood looks quite healthy—rosy-cheeked, clear-voiced, and not a trace of genuine despair in her eyes."
Charlotte's body stiffened for a moment before she burst into even louder sobs. Lifting her head, she stared at me with teary eyes and said, "Ms. Quinn, Edward and I truly love each other. I beg you to let us be together. I know I'm not of noble birth and I don't deserve him, but... I'm carrying his child."
She deliberately emphasized the word "child," and the challenge in her gaze was barely concealed.
It was this very expression that had shattered my composure in my previous life—driving me to expose her secret of pregnancy before the entire assembly and, in doing so, sealing my own fate.
After we got married, Edward locked me up in the tower, saying it was for my "health."
Every night, he'd drug me, shove me into a dog cage, and let the stable boys have their way with me.
Their filthy hands ripped my clothes off, and no matter how much I screamed and fought back, all I got were slap after slap.
"Vivian! You killed Charlotte! This is what you deserve!" Edward's voice was like a devil's whisper, echoing in my ears.
"Ms. Quinn?" someone called out, snapping me back to reality.
That was when I realized—everyone in the hall was staring at me, waiting to see what I'd do.
Taking a deep breath, I carefully folded the blood-stained document and slipped it into the velvet pouch at my waist.
"Since your mind is made up, I, Vivian Quinn, have no intention of clinging to a lost cause. Today, before all the nobles gathered here and with the priest as witness—"
My eyes swept firmly across the hall as I spoke each word clearly, "From this moment on, Vivian Quinn and Edward Grant are severed of all ties. Henceforth, each may marry whom they choose, with no further connection or obligation between us."