Celeste's eyes flew open.
Rather than cold marble floor, she was in a rich room, with the warm, muted glow of candles everywhere. The air was heavy with the scent of lavender and old parchment.
She was alive.
She sat upright, holding at her belly—but the wound was gone. Smooth, unbroken skin greeted her fingertips. She swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest.
"What in the—"
Her daydream was dispelled by a deafening knock on the door.
"Are you awake, Lady Celeste?"
The voice belonged to Mina, her lady-in-waiting. Celeste's mind fell into chaos. She had heard the voice last a month before the betrayal—before Liliana had stolen everything from her.
This was not a second chance.
She had been brought back through time.
Celeste lurched to the mirror vanity, gagging at the sight of her own face staring back at her. She was no longer a dying woman on the floor of the palace—she was herself. She was eighteen. Unscarred by betrayal.
But not blameless. No longer.
If fate had given her a second chance, she would not squander it.
This time, she would not be the deceived one.
She would be the one in control.