Chapter 1: The Execution Platform
The cold wind howled against her skin. The chains cut into her wrists, but Evelyne no longer felt the pain. She barely registered the jeers and screams of the crowd gathered beneath the execution platform.
Her once-beautiful golden gown was torn and stained with blood and dirt. Her long silver hair, once admired throughout the empire, was matted and disheveled. But none of it mattered. Not anymore.
"Kneel."
The soldier's rough hand forced her down.
Before her stood the man she had loved—her husband, Emperor Kieran. His cold eyes held no warmth. By his side, holding his arm with trembling innocence, stood her younger sister, Isabelle. The very sister who had whispered sweet lies into Kieran's ears and orchestrated Evelyne's fall.
"Evelyne Everhart," Kieran's voice rang out across the silent plaza. "You are sentenced to death for treason, conspiracy, and attempted regicide."
The crowd roared. Stones and rotten fruit hit her, but she refused to lower her head. She fixed her gaze on the two people who had destroyed her.
"Any last words, traitor?" Isabelle asked, her voice trembling with false pity.
Evelyne smiled.
It was a broken smile, but a smile nonetheless.
"You will regret this," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "When the day comes, may the gods have mercy on your souls... because I won't."
The executioner raised his sword.
The blade flashed.
Darkness swallowed her.
But the end was not the end.
When Evelyne opened her eyes again, she found herself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling.
No. Not unfamiliar. She recognized this room.
Her heart pounded as she sat up. She looked down at her hands—soft and unscarred. She touched her face—no bruises, no blood. The air smelled of lavender, fresh and pure.
This was her room.
The room she had slept in when she was still the eldest daughter of Duke Everhart.
The year was 485—ten years before her death.
She staggered to the mirror. The reflection that stared back at her was that of her eighteen-year-old self.
"No..." she whispered. "This... this is impossible."
A soft ding echoed in her head.
> \[System Binding Complete.]
> \[Welcome, Host.]
> \[Revenge System activated.]
> \[Mission 1: Survive. Prevent the marriage engagement with Prince Kieran.]
Evelyne's breath hitched. A system? She had read about such things in old tales. But now it didn't matter how or why.
A second chance. That's all she cared about.
Her eyes sharpened, burning with icy determination.
This time, she would not fall for Kieran's lies. She would not trust Isabelle's sweet facade. She would not bow to anyone.
This time, she would become untouchable.
The door burst open. Her father stormed in, his face flushed with anger.
"Evelyne! The royal decree has arrived. You are to be engaged to Crown Prince Kieran!"
Her heart tightened—the first domino of her previous life's destruction.
But this time, Evelyne smiled coldly.
"No, Father," she said firmly, her voice filled with steel. "I refuse."
The duke's face darkened. "What nonsense are you saying, Evelyne? You dare refuse a royal decree? Do you understand what this means?"
Evelyne met his eyes, calm and steady. In her past life, she had dreaded disappointing her father. She had longed for his cold approval. But now? Now she saw everything clearly.
"Father," she said softly. "I don't want to marry Crown Prince Kieran."
Her father's jaw tightened. "Want? This isn't about what you want. This is about duty, about honor. Our house has served the throne for generations—"
"—and where did that loyalty get me?" Evelyne interrupted, her voice sharp. "To death, to betrayal, to disgrace."
The duke narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
For a moment, Evelyne forgot he didn't know. In this timeline, none of it had happened yet. But she understood everything.
She took a breath and softened her tone. "Father, please trust me. This engagement is a trap. The Crown Prince's affection is a mask. Behind it, his ambition brews. He will discard me when it suits him."
Confusion and anger twisted her father's face. "That's enough! You're speaking treason."
"Is it treason to protect our house?" she challenged. "Or is it treason to throw your daughter to the wolves?"
The heavy silence in the room broke with another voice—a calm, gentle one.
"Sister, you are upsetting Father."
Evelyne stiffened. The sharp tone of that voice haunted her dreams.
Isabelle.
Her half-sister stood by the door, dressed in pale pink silk that highlighted her fragile, innocent look. She seemed like the perfect lady—delicate, compliant, demure. Just the right mask for a viper.
In her first life, Evelyne had trusted her. Defended her. Protected her.
And Isabelle had plunged a dagger straight into her back.
Evelyne turned to face her. "Isabelle."
Her sister's lips curved into a sweet smile. "I understand you're nervous, sister. The Crown Prince is intimidating. But this is a great honor. His Highness chose you personally."
Evelyne's gaze remained frosty. "Yes, and snakes shed their skin to seem harmless."
Isabelle blinked, taken aback. The sweetness on her face flickered for a moment before she regained her composure. "Sister, you sound strange today."
"I see things clearly now," Evelyne responded softly. "More clearly than ever."
She focused back on her father. "I reject this engagement. I will not marry Crown Prince Kieran."
The duke slammed his fists onto the polished desk. "You have no right to refuse!"
The *ding* in Evelyne's mind returned.
> \[Choice detected: Stand firm or give in to father's pressure.]
> \[Recommended: Stand firm for increased system favorability.]
She took a slow breath.
"Then disown me if you must, Father," she said firmly. "But I will not willingly walk to my grave."
The room fell into shocked silence.
For the first time in eighteen years, Evelyne Everhart defied her father.
And she had never felt more alive.
Later that evening, Evelyne sat alone in her chambers. The sun sank below the horizon, painting the sky red. She stared at her reflection, her fingers tracing the rim of her wine glass.
The first battle was won. But many more lay ahead.
> \[Mission 1 progress: 70%.]
The system's voice chimed again in her head.
> \[Side Quest unlocked: Secure alternative political protection within 30 days.]
She closed her eyes. Protection. Yes, she would need strong allies to escape Kieran's grasp.
One name rose to her mind.
Duke Lucien Nightshade.
The Demon of the North.
In her past life, she had feared him like everyone else. His name alone made nobles tremble—ruthless, unpredictable, merciless.
But there were whispers.
Whispers that beneath the rumors was a man who hated the royal court, who saw through Kieran's schemes, and who owed no loyalty to anyone but himself.
He could be her greatest enemy or her strongest ally.
A knock echoed at her door.
"Enter," she called.
Her loyal maid, Annette, stepped in hesitantly. "My lady... a letter has arrived."
"A letter?"
"It bears the seal of House Nightshade."
Evelyne's heart raced.
So soon?
She took the letter, breaking the black wax seal with shaking fingers.
Inside was a single line, written in elegant, sharp script.
**"We should talk."**
Her lips curled into a cold, calculated smile.
The game had begun.
To be continued....