Chapter 121
Six months had passed, and Amelia remained trapped within the shell of her younger self—an invisible observer, forced to relive the life she had once ruined. She watched helplessly as scenes from her past replayed : her falling for Aldric’s empty charm, her pleading with her father to support his claim to the throne, her naive joy at every stolen glance and whispered promise.
In the beginning, she had fought back, desperate to seize control of her body, to stop herself from repeating the same foolish mistakes. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t change a thing. She was merely a passenger, cursed to watch the tragedy unfold again.
At first, she had been elated to see her family again. Her father’s stern, familiar warmth, Cassius’s teasing grin, and Reynold’s quiet support had filled her heart with a longing so sharp it brought tears to her eyes. But that joy gave way to dread as she realized she would have to watch them die again. Powerless. Just like before.
Everything was exactly the same, every event, every word. Every mistake.
Except for one thing.
The crown prince. Prince Keiser.
In her previous life, Amelia had avoided him. Rumors of his ruthless nature, his cold cruelty, and the terrifying things he had done had been enough to keep her far away. She remembered seeing him once, at a birthday banquet. A waiter had accidentally spilled wine on his coat and without hesitation, the prince had drawn his sword and cut off the man’s head. The memory of the blood soaking the tiles remained vivid in her mind.
He had long, slightly tousled hair and piercing grey eyes, dangerous and unreadable. He was striking in a way that demanded attention, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Kai, which sent chills crawling down her spine.
In her past, she had been infatuated with Aldric. But now, watching from the shadows of her younger self, Amelia found her gaze constantly drifting toward the crown prince. Toward Keiser. There was something about him that pulled her in, something she couldn’t ignore.
The scent of rosewater hung thick in the air as Amelia sat before the mirror, surrounded by fluttering maids. Her hair was half-pinned, loose curls framing her delicate face. Diane, her personal maid, was focused on her makeup, dusting her cheeks with blush, adding a soft rose tint to her lips.
"You’ll be the most beautiful lady at the banquet, my lady," Diane said with a warm smile, admiring her handiwork.