Lily descended the marble staircase of the Valmont estate with a grace born of habit. Her fingers trailed along the polished banister, each step echoing through the grand hall like a heartbeat. Everything was as she remembered: the golden chandelier, the deep crimson carpets, the portraits of ancestors glaring down in eternal judgment.
But she was not the same.
“Lady Lily,” came the sharp voice of Tutor Elric, already frowning as she entered the study hall. “You are six minutes late.”
In her past life, she would have stared him down and made him regret the comment. But now, she only dipped her head slightly. “My apologies, sir. I’ll do better tomorrow.”
The tutor blinked, startled by her uncharacteristic humility, but moved on without complaint.
Lily slid into her usual seat, across from Lucien. He gave her a glance, not suspicious, but curious. She ignored it and opened her book, even though she couldn’t focus on the text. Her mind swam with memories—some already starting to fade, others sharper than ever.
The future was a fragile thing now. Every word, every gesture mattered.
“Lily,” Lucien whispered when the tutor turned to the blackboard. “What happened to your usual fire? You used to argue about everything.”
“I’m not in the mood to argue anymore,” she replied, not looking up. “Not when I could be learning.”
He stared for a moment, then chuckled softly. “Who are you and what have you done with Lady Valmont?”
That smile—it used to fluster her. Now it only made her chest ache.
The lesson ended swiftly. As the other students filed out, Lucien lingered beside her. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
She hesitated. Then, for the first time in years, she let a little honesty escape.
“I’m just realizing how much time I’ve wasted.”
Lucien didn’t press. He simply walked with her down the corridor, their steps quiet, companionable. For a moment, the weight of the future lifted.
But fate, she knew, never stayed gentle for long.
As they neared the courtyard, the doors opened—and she saw her.
Marianne Highmoor.
The girl who would one day become Lucien’s fiancée.
Lily’s stomach twisted. In her past life, Marianne had been sweet and clever—an unwitting rival who had never meant to hurt her. Lucien had chosen her with kindness, not cruelty.
Marianne curtsied, her brown curls bouncing lightly. “Lord Everhart. Lady Valmont.”
Lucien smiled. “Marianne. You’re early.”
“I wanted to practice before today’s fencing lesson.”
Lily studied her quietly. Her first instinct was to glare, to assert dominance like she once did. But now she saw something else—a girl barely seventeen, unaware of the storm that would come.
Lily smiled instead. “Then we won’t keep you.”
Marianne blinked, surprised. “Th-thank you, my lady.”
As she hurried off, Lucien glanced at Lily. “You’ve changed.”
She didn’t deny it.
Because this time, she wasn’t going to lose.
Not her dignity.
Not her future.
And definitely not Lucien.
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