Chapter 2

"Your Majesty," the Dowager Queen said, her voice calm and measured. "The presentation is underway. I find these young ladies all rather agreeable.

"Perhaps you might have them step forward one by one, so you may take a proper measure of them."

Edward inclined his head and took his seat upon the gilded chair.

The young ladies advanced one by one, following the order set down in the master of ceremonies' register. I stood near the back, watching each girl pass before him.

His expression remained composed and entirely unreadable, and he offered not a single word.

At last, the herald's voice rang out again. "Lady Isabella Sterling, daughter of the Lord Chancellor, seventeen years of age."

Isabella stepped forward and sank into a graceful curtsy. When she lifted her gaze, her manner was demure without being overly coy. Her eyes flickered upward and met his at the perfect moment.

I saw Edward's gaze fasten upon her. In that instant, my heart dropped like a stone into deep water.

"Come closer," he said.

Isabella rose and approached him. He looked at her, and a sudden smile touched his lips.

That smile was painfully familiar to me. After two-and-twenty years of marriage, every time he had smiled at me, it had worn that very same curve.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Your Majesty, I am Isabella Sterling, daughter of the Lord Chancellor," she replied.

"Isabella," he repeated, as if tasting the name. "A lovely name."

Then, from a velvet cushion held by an attendant, he lifted a delicate tiara of twisted gold, set with a single pearl cradled like a teardrop at its centre, its surface catching the light in a soft shimmer.

I watched as he offered the tiara to Isabella. "This belongs to you now," he said.

A collective murmur rippled through the assembled guests.

The Dowager Queen's expression flickered, but she held her tongue.

Isabella's eyes went wide, yet she swiftly gathered herself and bowed her head, accepting the tiara with both hands. "Your Majesty," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I am truly overwhelmed."

When she lifted her head again, her gaze cut clean through the crowd and found me.

In that glance, I caught a flicker of triumph, a thread of defiance, and something else I could not quite name. It felt almost like a challenge, or perhaps a warning.

*****

That night, I couldn't sleep.

I sat by the window, watching the moon rise over the eastern towers and sink beyond the western wood, watching the sky shift from pitch black to the thin grey light of early dawn.

The first pale rays of morning crept slowly into this shabby, forgotten chamber.

My thoughts drifted in a hundred directions at once.

I thought of my daughter. I thought of that heavy snowfall. I thought of an afternoon long ago when the three of us flew kites in the Royal Gardens, our laughter ringing beneath a bright spring sky.

I thought of the nights he held my hand while he reviewed documents by candlelight, and of the look upon his face when he said, "Zelda, you are the only woman I shall ever love."

Were all those moments nothing more than a lie? The tenderness, the quiet intimacy, the way we would smile at one another, the countless nights we lay tangled together and drifted into sleep.

Was every last piece of it fake?

But if it was all fake, then why did he drink the elixir with me? Why did he step back through the years at my side?

Why did he promise that this time, he would never allow our daughter to be sent away to a political marriage?

Unless he had never taken the elixir at all.

Or perhaps he did drink it, but the reason he returned to the past was nothing like mine.

Either way, I knew that nothing was as it had been before.

When dawn finally broke, Hazel pushed open the door and started when she saw me still seated by the window. "My lady, you have not slept at all?"

I turned to her. "Hazel, can you do something for me?"

"What is it you need, my lady?"

"I want you to find out where His Majesty is today and where Isabella might be as well."

Hazel gave a quick nod and hurried off.

She returned perhaps two hours later, her expression rather odd. "My lady, His Majesty is in the King's Study, meeting with his councillors. Lady Isabella has gone out to take the air among the gardens."

"Taking the air?" I repeated.

"Yes, my lady," Hazel replied, hesitating a moment. "It is said His Majesty sent her a great many branches of apple blossom. For arranging in a vase, apparently."

I closed my eyes.

In my previous life, he had met me in the Royal Gardens and bent to retrieve the sprig of apple blossom I had let fall. Now, he was sending branches of apple blossom to Isabella.

She was the one he had wanted all along. He had come back for her.

In my previous life, Isabella had died young. Edward's supposed wish to save our daughter Grace had been nothing more than a pretty lie to deceive me.

He had never loved me. His heart had always belonged to Isabella.

*****

This time, everything had changed.

Isabella was raised to the rank of Royal Consort and granted Everbloom Palace, the residence closest to the King's own chambers, a privilege reserved only for the King's greatest favourite.

Because she had been born on the wrong side of the blanket, she could not be crowned queen outright yet.

As for me, I was granted the lowly title of Lady-in-Waiting and dispatched to the remote Rosewood Lodge, a small, half-forgotten dwelling tucked away in the farthest corner of the palace grounds.

The day the royal decree was delivered, Hazel's eyes were swollen and red from weeping. "My lady, you are the trueborn daughter. Wh-why would they do this to you?"

I pressed her hand gently and said nothing.

What did it matter being the trueborn daughter? Perhaps I had never been the one Edward wanted.