Her words echoed like a thunderclap through the drawing room.
The duke stared at her, stunned into silence. "You've lost your mind."
"No, Father," Aveline said, lifting her chin. "I've regained it."
She turned on her heel, skirts swishing behind her like a war banner. Every step away from that box felt like peeling off chains she didn't know were still wrapped around her soul.
Aveline's Chambers
Back in her room, Aveline locked the door and leaned against it, breath catching in her throat.
She slid to the floor, the weight of what she'd done crashing over her like cold water.
He'll come for me now. Or worse, ignore me completely and let the kingdom chew me apart.
The memory of his smile at her execution still burned behind her eyes.
Not the smile of a heartbroken lover. No. It had been something colder.
Relief.
Her fingers dug into her gown.
You won't get the satisfaction this time, Your Highness.
The Imperial Palace
"Say that again," Prince Lucien said flatly, voice laced with frost.
The royal messenger swallowed. "Lady Aveline has declined the engagement. She… refused the ring."
For a moment, there was nothing but silence in the grand hall.
Then Lucien laughed. Just once.
A sharp, humorless sound.
"Well," he said, eyes dark with something unreadable. "It seems the villainess has decided to play a new game."
He turned toward the window, watching the wind stir the flags above the palace towers.
"Let's see how long she lasts."
The candles in Aveline's room flickered low, casting shadows that danced along the velvet wallpaper. She sat before the mirror once again, brushing her golden hair with slow, deliberate strokes. A duchess's hands. A villainess's face.
There were whispers beyond her door.
"She's gone mad, hasn't she?"
"Rejected the prince! Does she want her head on a spike?"
"She always was… strange."
Aveline's lips curled. Strange? Perhaps. But alive.
The door creaked open slightly. Her maid, Elise, peeked in with wide, nervous eyes.
"My lady… shall I draw your bath? You've had a long day."
Aveline set the brush down, her expression calm. "No. Just sit with me a moment."
Elise blinked in surprise, then nodded, moving to sit quietly nearby. Aveline didn't speak. Neither did the maid. The silence between them was soft and steady—one of the few things in this world that hadn't changed.
But it wouldn't last.
After a long pause, she whispered, more to herself than to Elise, "Do you think fate can be rewritten, Elise?"
The maid hesitated. "I… I don't know, my lady."
Aveline smiled faintly. "Neither do I. But I intend to find out."
The Next Morning
At breakfast, the Duke of Ravenshire barely looked at her.
"You've embarrassed this house," he muttered, slicing his meat with unnecessary force. "The palace sent a raven at dawn. The prince has acknowledged your refusal."
"And?" Aveline asked coolly, sipping her tea.
Her father glared. "And the court is in chaos. You've made yourself a spectacle."
"Then let them watch."
The Imperial Court
The grand council chamber buzzed with tension as nobles whispered and speculated.
"She refused him?"
"Arrogant girl."
"Or clever," said another voice. "What if this is strategy?"
Prince Lucien entered without ceremony, his silver-trimmed coat fluttering behind him like a shadow. He took his place at the head of the table, unmoved by the noise.
"Is she trying to provoke you, Your Highness?" a minister asked.
Lucien smirked faintly. "That depends."
"On what?"
He leaned back in his seat, eyes glittering.
"On whether she's still playing the role of a villainess… or trying to become something else."