Chapter 3

On the eve of Isabella's grand investiture, she arrived.

She swept in wearing a newly fashioned court gown of deep burgundy velvet, a delicate circlet of twisted gold and pearls resting upon her hair, and catching the afternoon light with every turn of her head.

Four maids followed in her wake, each bearing a small coffer lined with ivory silk. Her entrance carried all the weight of a royal decree waiting to be read aloud.

"Zelda," Isabella said, pausing in the doorway with a radiant smile. "Tomorrow is my consort ceremony.

"Since we share the same blood, I thought it only proper to bring you a few things to admire before the day arrives."

She lifted her hand in a casual gesture, and the maids stepped forward, opening each coffer in turn.

The first coffer held a set of hairpins fashioned from delicate silver filigree and set with sapphires of such vivid blue they might have been lifted from a midsummer sky.

The second coffer yielded a bolt of Venetian cloth-of-gold, so heavy with silver threads that it seemed to capture the very light, shimmering with a radiance that glowed from within.

The third coffer unveiled a sceptre of walrus ivory, its surface possessing the creamy luster of aged bone, engraved with a sinuous motif of dynastic roses entwined with sharp, unforgiving thorns.

"All of these were gifts from the King," Isabella said, taking up the ivory sceptre and turning it idly between her fingers. "Look, Zelda. Have you ever beheld such exquisite craftsmanship?"

I stared at her in silence.

She smiled and returned the sceptre to its coffer, then stepped closer, her voice dropping to a murmur meant only for my ears. "Did you know? On the day of the presentation, the King intended to choose you first."

A muscle beneath my eye twitched.

"But do you know why he chose me instead?" Isabella's voice was soft as silk ribbon. "Because I told him you were already promised to William Ashford.

"I told him you had secretly given your heart to him years ago, and that you only appeared at court because our father compelled you to."

My head snapped up, and I stared at her. She was speaking the truth.

William and I were childhood companions who had once whispered promises to one another beneath the oak trees.

I had not wished to enter the court in those early days.

But once I entered the palace, I resigned myself to my fate.

And somewhere along the way, sharing a life with Edward and watching our daughter grow, I discovered a love in my heart that ran deeper than anything I had ever expected to feel.

And now she was dragging William into this, twisting a girlhood friendship into a weapon.

Isabella's smile only deepened. "You likely never knew. The King sent men to the Sterling estate to make quiet inquiries about you.

"I happened to be in the courtyard that day, so I spoke on your behalf. I told them you had no desire to come, that your heart already belonged to another, and that you were here only under duress."

She smiled, but her eyes held a glint of ice. "Tell me, Zelda. Was that not generous of me?"

I stared at her, feeling the blood rise hot behind my eyes.

So that was the truth. All those years, Edward had believed I never truly wanted him. That his love was something I merely endured.

Our days together had all rested upon a lie Isabella had planted before I ever drew my first breath as queen.

So that was how Isabella had come to wear that tiara this time around.

"Isabella," I said, and my voice emerged so steady it nearly startled me. "Do you have any idea of what you did in your previous life?"

She paused, caught off guard. "Previous life?"

"In your previous life," I said, shaping each word with deliberate care, "you became queen. You and the King were the picture of a perfect marriage.

"You had a son and a daughter, a family everyone envied. And when your time came, he never left your bedside. He held your hand and told you that you had been the greatest blessing of his life."

Isabella's expression faltered.

I held her gaze, pronouncing each syllable with quiet precision. "But do you know what happened after you died?

"Ten years after your death, the King learned from the King's Mage that this tale of your unwilling sister, this story of a heart already pledged elsewhere, was something you had invented."

The colour drained from her cheeks.

"He resented you for ten long years," I said. "He resented you for making him lose his true love, forcing him to pour out a lifetime of devotion upon the wrong woman.

"After your death, he could not bear to look upon your portrait. He ordered it taken down and banished to the family chapel, and he never set foot there again.

"You're lying!" Isabella's voice went shrill, desperate. "He loves me. He would never—"

"Love you?" I cut her off. "If he truly loved you, then why has he returned for another chance?"

She went utterly still.

"Think on it," I said, meeting her eyes without flinching. "If he truly loved you, why would he drink the elixir of return? Why would he choose to step back through the years? Why would he—"

I stopped. A sudden understanding broke over me like a wave of cold water. Why had he wished to return to the past at all? For what reason had he truly come back?

I looked at Isabella, her face now pale as fresh linen, and I laughed.

If she wanted my place as queen and my life, she was welcome to it.

"Isabella," I said, "tomorrow is your investiture. You had best look the part."

I paused, then added quietly, "After all, a crown does not always rest easy on the head that wears it."