Chapter 8: A Second Chance in the Palace

Unconsciously, she writhed and let out a soft groan, yet she clung to her sanity, forcing her eyes wide open. She had resolved not to end this with a whimper or a scream.

A desperate cry would only serve as a gift to those who sought to utterly destroy her.

The embers, drawn into the kindling and straw, soon began to climb fiercely, reaching waist height. Pine resin melted within the flames, diffusing its distinct aroma into the air.

A sharp, acrid smell clawed at her nose and throat, burning with every breath.

Selonia gritted her teeth, a metallic taste blooming on her tongue. She heard the faint sound of her teeth cracking from the force of her bite.

As her vision blurred with the agony that made her wish to bite her tongue and simply die, a series of images flashed before her eyes.

There were cheering men and women who turned their heads away in apparent horror. A child hid behind their mother’s skirt, their face contorted in a terrified grimace.

An empty terrace appeared, its occupants having vanished at some unknown moment. Then, there was Kylos, confronting a holy knight, gripping the spear blade with his bare hands.

Setting aside her questions, Selonia’s body convulsed. As the pain surged in like a relentless tide, a short groan escaped her lips, though she still did not cry out.

Even the breath she exhaled, akin to a dry laugh, was imbued with an acrid agony. Ash began to drift across her flickering vision.

“Sel…nia!”

Amidst the crowd, who chanted only ‘witch,’ she experienced the illusion of hearing her name called from somewhere.

Was it true that the happiest memories flashed like lightning before one’s death? Yet, her fading consciousness saw only an absolute blackness; no happy memories surfaced at all.

She had come to realize that every moment she had once considered happy had been nothing more than a lie.

‘If only I could go back, I wouldn’t have made such choices,’ she thought. ‘I wouldn’t have desperately yearned for the crumbs of attention and affection thrown my way like charity, nor would I have foolishly loved someone who had only approached to exploit me.’

Regret surged through her as the flames, coiling around the pyre, began to consume her. All sounds receded, as if she were sinking into the depths of a profound lake.

As the burgeoning flames engulfed her chest, a sudden tranquility settled over her.

***

A familiar scent permeated her nostrils. It was the comforting aroma of sun-dried bedding, mingled with the fresh fragrance of flowers emanating from a vase on a nearby table.

The moment she drew a shallow breath, she realized the searing, internal pain had completely vanished.

Selonia, pondering that the world after death might be filled only with the most familiar things, slowly stirred her heavy eyelids.

Again, something familiar greeted her. A chandelier, not at all unfamiliar, hung from the ceiling of the room.

Though modest and rustic for a royal chamber, its elaborate crystal design still hinted at the Imperial Palace’s grandeur, even in such a place.

It was identical to the one in the room she had occupied when she first entered the palace as Princess Consort Camilla’s lady-in-waiting.

‘……Identical?’

Selonia, who had been slowly breathing while gazing at the ceiling, suddenly opened her eyes wide. Come to think of it, the familiar fragrance in the room was that of freesias, her favorite flower, which she always kept in a vase.

To think she had died and ended up back in the Imperial Palace, a place she never wished to set foot in again. How could such an unpleasant thing have occurred?

Beneath her furrowed brows, her sky-blue eyes flickered with profound confusion.

‘No, did I truly die?’ The crisp sensation of the bedding against her palms, the cool breeze wafting in through the open window, and the persistent fragrance of freesias—everything felt incredibly vivid.

Cautiously, she shifted her gaze to survey her surroundings, then, with a look of utter disbelief, she abruptly sat upright on the bed.

“……What, exactly, is this?”

It was no illusion. The place where she sat was indeed Princess Consort Camilla’s palace.

In the past, she had lived here as a lady-in-waiting to the Imperial Palace.

Princess Consort Camilla, who was both the Emperor’s aunt and Grand Duke Lahardian’s aunt, served as the de facto mistress of the palace in the absence of an Empress.

Consequently, becoming her lady-in-waiting was considered as honorable as serving the Empress herself.

It felt like only yesterday that Selonia, a mere illegitimate child of a count, had been utterly bewildered by the news of her appointment to Princess Consort Camilla’s service.

However, after meeting Alix and becoming his lover, she had long since resigned from her position as the Princess Consort’s lady-in-waiting. What, then, could this situation possibly mean?

Her last memory was undeniably the pyre in the public square. The shock of it had not entirely faded, leaving her mind hazy, yet she was certain.

The agony of burning to death amidst the condemnation of the crowd was still agonizingly vivid. The acrid smoke that pierced her lungs and the flames that licked at her throat had brought an unspeakable torment.

Even Alix’s unreadable, blank expression as he gazed down at her, and Grand Duke Lahardian’s face as he approached, pulling down a spear blade with his bare hands, were etched into her memory.

Everything was too clear, too painfully etched into her very bones to be dismissed as a mere dream. Selonia clutched the edge of the bed, struggling to regulate her ragged breathing.

As she slowly exhaled, her gaze fell upon her hands, fiercely gripping the sheets. As if possessed, she raised both hands, her lips parting blankly.

“……They’re perfectly fine.”

Her wrists, which had been raw and chafed red from the ropes, were completely unharmed. Her hands, devoid of any burn marks, were beautifully smooth, as though they had never once been emaciated.

Yet, how could all of this simply be a dream?

She absently stroked her own hands repeatedly, then managed to push her trembling body upright.

Rushing towards the mirror on the wall, she found a familiar yet strangely unfamiliar face reflected in the small glass, which only showed her upper body.

Her reflection revealed abundant, smooth, lustrous pink hair, cheeks flushed with a healthy color, and sky-blue eyes reminiscent of winter.

She appeared far younger than she had in her last memory, looking exactly as she had when she first entered the Imperial Palace as Princess Consort Camilla’s lady-in-waiting, before she had fallen in love with Alix.

As she distractedly stroked her cheek, a sudden hypothesis made her face turn pale. It might sound like a crazy thought, but she had to confirm it nonetheless.

After scanning the room once more, she hastily slipped on her slippers and frantically dashed into the corridor.

Her mind was crammed with a myriad of thoughts. Yet, one thing she could definitively confirm: this was the Princess Consort’s palace, and this was reality.

It was far too vivid to be dismissed as a mere dream.

Every detail of the exquisitely decorated palace, the sensation of the breeze blowing through the open window, and the very vibrancy she felt with each step she took on the floor—all were undeniably real.

Moreover, unlike before, when even a short walk would leave her breathless, she now felt no strain at all, even as she sprinted through the corridor. It was as if she had truly returned to the past.

“Lady Brienne?”

Just as exhilaration washed over her with the realization that running no longer caused her pain, a vaguely familiar voice from somewhere brought her back to reality.

Selonia stopped abruptly, turning towards the sound, and her lips parted blankly as she gazed at the lady before her.

“……Countess Monclaire?”

The woman, elegantly dressed in a modest green gown, exuded the distinct, resolute aura of someone who had long endured the rigors of palace life.

Mariam Monclaire.

She had served the Princess Consort as a lady-in-waiting long before Selonia herself had ever entered the Imperial Palace.

The Imperial Palace was so vast that Selonia had rarely seen Mariam after she herself had entered Bellua Palace.

Although Princess Consort Camilla served as the de facto mistress of the Imperial Palace, she seldom made appearances at social gatherings.

As Selonia offered a polite, somewhat awkward smile, a mix of welcome and unease washing over her, Mariam’s slightly furrowed brow gradually tightened.

“Lady, aren’t you off duty today? What exactly are you doing here?”

“I, well, that is to say……”

Selonia’s eyes widened, and she found herself utterly unable to speak. ‘Indeed,’ she thought.

‘What am I doing here?’ She certainly couldn’t tell Mariam that she had died by burning at the stake, only to wake up here, and was now trying to understand what had happened.

As her silence stretched, Mariam, looking puzzled, raised an eyebrow and scrutinized her before shaking her head slightly.

“It seems you’ve had a nightmare. First, you ought to check your attire. The people from the Kingdom of Tellua will be arriving soon for a visit.”

Only then did Selonia glance down at her own attire, frantically covering her chest. She realized she had rushed out dressed exactly as she had woken up, wearing nothing but a thin chemise.

Her earlobes flushed even redder than her hair. It was an immense stroke of luck that she had not encountered anyone on her way here.

“I’m so sorry, Countess Monclaire—no, Lady Mariam.”

Realizing that at this time, as fellow ladies-in-waiting to the same Princess Consort, she would have addressed Mariam by her given name, Selonia hastily corrected herself.

Fortunately, Mariam seemed preoccupied with other matters, merely giving a slight nod before quickly walking away.

Selonia returned directly to her room, her legs suddenly giving way, and she collapsed onto the bed.

This Princess Consort’s palace, and Mariam’s demeanor towards her, were both exactly as they had been before. It was precisely like the time she had first entered the Imperial Palace.

As she mulled over Mariam’s words and recalled the vaguely chiding look in her eyes, a memory suddenly flashed into Selonia’s mind.