Phoebe
was cursed to bring death to her husbands? I’m truly afraid for the Warlord.”
I listened to the whispers from outside my window with a wry smile. I turned to Xylos and nudged him with my foot, saying self–deprecatingly, “The great Warlord’s reputation, ruined by me.”
Xylos frowned. “Don’t say that. Phoebe, give me half a day. I will make sure you never hear them speak ill of you again.”
I sighed. “Honestly, I don’t care.” Compared to my last life, where I was a widow to a living man, enduring endless torment only to be publicly exec- uted by a thousand cuts, this was paradise. Xylos provided me with the finest food and clothing, rivaling that of the royal family. I was living in comfort. I was already content.
Before we blew out the lamps, I heard him mumble, “A little damage to my reputation is nothing. As long as I can have you, I don’t care about anything else.”
I lay awake all night.
Not long after, my sister sent for me. She was about to become the next Dragon Queen, and her handmaidens were presenting her with a heavy, ornate ceremonial gown. She eagerly held the crown to her head, turning to ask me, “Phoebe, who do you think looks better in this, me or the old Queen?”
Chapter 1
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I remained silent.
She continued, as if talking to herself, “Sometimes, you just have to accept your fate. So what if you were more talented than me? In the end, I’m
the one who will be Queen.”
She had always been like this, always needing to be one step ahead of me.
My gaze fell upon the cluttered table, and I found myself staring at the aquamarine Damon had given her. A spark of insight flashed in my mind. When my sister was young, she had been dragged into the sea by a water spirit during a training exercise. She hated aquamarines. My brother–in- law, always so thoughtful, would have remembered that.
After a long pause, I asked, my voice strained, “You really haven’t noticed that he’s not Caelus?”
My sister’s hand froze
In that instant, I knew the answer.
In my past life, I had never once suspected my sister. In my eyes, despite our lifelong rivalry, Damon was the sole perpetrator. But now, her reacti- on told me everything. She knew.
Tears welled in my eyes. “Serena, are you insane?” I demanded.
Smack!
She slammed a phoenix hairpin onto the table. “So what if I am?” she retorted.
I was stunned.
My sister sneered. “Let me tell you
truth. As long as
he is the Crown Prince, as long as I can be the future Queen, I don’t care who my husband is.” She glared at me suspiciously. “As for you, you’d better play the part of the grieving widow. If you behave, when I become Queen, I won’t treat you poorly. But if you dare to speak a word of this, I will not spare you.”
A chill seeped into my bones. Her words were identical to the ones Damon had spoken in my last life. But in the end, neither of them had spared
- me.
Just then, voices sounded from outside. Damon, the King, and the Queen swept into the room. They all froze when they saw me.
Damon frowned, his voice laced with guilt. “Phoebe, what are you doing here?”
The Queen’s tone was sharp and sarcastic. “Shouldn’t you be with your new husband? What are you doing in the palace?”
Serena squeezed out a few tears, leaning against Damon. “Phoebe didn’t mean any harm. She’s just so distraught over losing her husband, that’s
why…”
Damon wrapped his arm around her, his voice full of resentment. “Phoebe, none of us wanted to see my brother die on the battlefield. Not only did you refuse to mourn him, you insisted on remarrying, and now you’re taking your anger out on your sister.”
“Get out!” he roared.
I stared at Damon, and then a slow smile spread across my face.
“Fine.”
Justice may be slow, but it is coming.
