Chapter 1
"This time, I'll pick sweet Isabelle, not a venomous woman like you."
With those words, Edward Sinclair walked straight toward my half-sister, Isabelle Grant.
This scumbag had used my family's influence to climb his way to power in my previous life.
He believed that shaking off my "control" would let him grab everything for himself and keep his "true love" beside him.
I smiled. Then, I turned and handed the family seal, the key to our fortune, to Alexander Pierce, a poor pledge whose leg had been broken by Edward.
"Since you've chosen your true love," I said, cool and steady, "I'll give the money and the power to someone else."
*****
The noise around me faded like the tide, then surged back all at once.
I blinked, and my vision came into focus.
Before me was a delicate silver laurel wreath, its inlaid gems shining so sharply under the sun that they stung the eyes.
In my previous life, I'd held a public courtship here in this square and tossed this wreath. Whoever caught it would be my husband.
Edward'd fought through all the other noble sons to get it.
"Victoria, with you as my wife, I have everything a man could ever want," he'd said, his eyes full of passion.
But it turned out, what he really wanted wasn't me at all.
He waned my family's fortune, my father's powerful connections at court, and my uncanny knack for business.
I'd worked myself to the bone for him, pouring my family's silver coins into his quest for the throne like it was nothing.
To secure his alliance with the powerful court officials, I'd ventured through a heavy snowstorm to obtain precious herbs for the chancellor, only to end up with a lifelong illness that left me barren.
But on his coronation day, there was no crown for me. Instead, I was handed a poisoned cup and a royal decree ordering the execution of every last member of my family.
Beside him stood Isabelle, looking all sweet but hiding a heart full of cruelty.
"Victoria," she murmured, leaning into him with a smirk, "you're too controlling. His Majesty felt trapped by you. But me? I only give him my softness."
Edward gave me an icy stare, as if I were nothing but trash. "Victoria, your scheming disgusts me. Isabelle is good and pure. She's the one who deserves to be the mother of the kingdom."
A man's heavy breathing cut through the air, yanking me out of the swirling tide of the past.
My throat tightened, feeling the phantom burn of poison still scorching my throat.
Edward's hand jerked away from me mid-air.
He recoiled as if I were a wild animal, then turned and walked straight to Isabelle, who stood a few steps away.
"Isabelle," he said, his voice rough and full of a wild, born-again kind of joy. "This time, I choose you."
Isabelle jumped, her lace fan slipping from her fingers.
But her panic swiftly gave way to bashfulness. Tears brimmed in her big eyes as she gazed at Edward with a hesitant, lingering gaze.
"P-Prince Edward, you..."
Edward clutched my silver laurel wreath in his left hand, while his right hand took Isabelle's.
Then he turned his head and stared at me.
His gaze burned with resentment, gloating satisfaction, and a lofty, condescending disdain.
"Victoria," he growled, each word sharp and bitter. "This time, I want the gentle, kind Isabelle. Not you, a controlling and scheming wretch."
The crowd exploded in an instant.
"Why would Prince Edward abandon Lady Victoria for a natural daughter?"
"I heard Lady Victoria is domineering. Looks like it's true; even Prince Edward can't handle her."
Edward straightened his back, standing taller as he listened to those whispers.
He shot me a smug look. "Victoria, the Grant family's power outshines the throne itself, and you're all dripping with riches.
"In my previous life, I let you deceive me, and ended up completely under your thumb.
"This time, I'm cutting ties early. The whole world shall know that I chose Isabelle for true love, not for your family's filthy money."
I burst into laughter.
I couldn't hold it in.
Edward had come back with a second chance at life.
Armed with his memories from before, he thought he had the ultimate cheat sheet this time around.
He believed that without me, he'd still be the chosen one.
He thought my family's power and prestige were all his doing.
What an idiot.
I slowly withdrew my hand from mid-air, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on my sleeve.
"Your Highness, if that's how you feel, then your claim to my silver laurel wreath is null and void," I said.
My voice wasn't loud, but it rang out for everyone to hear.
Edward let out a cold laugh. "Null and void? Please. Who'd dare marry a wretch like you?"
Isabelle spoke up, her voice trembling. "Don't be mad, Victoria. His Highness simply loves me deeply. Although I am born of a concubine, my devotion to him is sincere."
Wow, what a devoted pair.
I ignored them.
My gaze cut through the crowd and settled in a quiet corner.
There sat an old, battered wheelchair.
In it was a pale-faced young man.
He wore faded clothes, a worn-out blanket draped over his knees.
Even surrounded by all this noise and festivity, he seemed like a shadow, lonely, cold, and gloomy.
It was Alexander Pierce, a hostage prince sent from a rival kingdom.