Episode 2

The silence was the first thing I noticed.

Not the cold steel of the blade. Not the crowd's screams.

Not even the blood soaking through my wedding gown.

Just... silence.

Then, a voice.

"My lady, are you awake?"

I opened my eyes. The room came into focus slowly—too slowly.

Velvet drapes. The scent of rose water. A half-buttoned wedding gown. Sunlight filtering through the windows like honey.

And Leira.

Her face was the same. Her voice was the same. But this time, there was no horror. No blood. No chains.

She smiled, sweet and serene. “You were dreaming. I was just about to wake you for your dress fitting.”

My throat tightened.

This isn’t real. I died. I remember the blade. I remember—

My hand flew to my neck. No scar. No blood. Nothing but smooth, warm skin. I shot upright, eyes wide.

“You fainted yesterday,” Leira continued, bustling around the room like nothing had happened. “Must be nerves. Understandable, really. You're marrying Duke Caelan Dravik. Half the noblewomen in the kingdom would trade places with you.”

My heart thundered. I stared at her, at the familiar tray she set beside my bed—steamed milk, toast with honey, and a boiled egg. Exactly the same as yesterday.

“Leira…” I said slowly. “What day is it?”

She blinked. “Why, the twenty-second of Vyrne, my lady. Your wedding day.”

No.

“No,” I whispered. “That can’t be.”

Leira frowned, tilting her head. “Should I fetch the physician?”

I threw off the covers and stumbled to the mirror. My reflection stared back: pale, confused, terrified. The same white gown, halfway buttoned. The same emerald earrings I remembered clasping just before the ceremony. Even the same small ink stain on the hem—barely noticeable.

It was all the same.

Exactly the same.

I hadn’t fainted.

I had died.

And now I was alive again.

The panic didn’t hit all at once. It came in waves, like cold water rising up my spine. I paced the room, touching every object like it might vanish—my hairbrush, the letter on my vanity, the bouquet of lilies arranged by the window.

I picked up the letter.

Same handwriting. Same message from Father.

“Eira, meet me in the east hall before the ceremony. There’s a matter we must discuss.”

A letter I never reached yesterday. I had dropped it in my rush to the chapel after the guards arrived.

My hands trembled.

“Would you like me to help with your hair?” Leira asked gently behind me.

“I…” My voice caught. “No. Leave me. Please.”

She hesitated. “Is something wrong?”

“I just need a moment,” I snapped, harsher than I intended.

She bowed and left quietly, though I saw the confusion in her eyes.

The moment she was gone, I locked the door.

The mirror didn’t lie. I was here. Alive. The same day, the same room, the same future waiting to betray me.

It wasn’t a dream.

It wasn’t coincidence.

It was a loop.

I went to the east hall. This time, I found Father waiting. He turned at my approach, tall and grim in his formal robes.

“You’re early,” he said, arching a brow.

“I got your note,” I replied, trying to sound normal. “What did you want to speak to me about?”

He hesitated. “I merely wanted to ensure you were prepared. Today is an important day.”

I searched his expression for any sign—fear, guilt, even sadness. But his eyes were unreadable.

“Prepared for what?” I asked.

“The ceremony,” he said simply. “You’ll be Duchess Dravik before sunset.”

Something about that sentence made my blood run cold.

“Are you certain… that’s what I want?” I asked softly.

He stiffened. “Eira. We’ve discussed this.”

No, you discussed. I was told.

I almost asked him why he didn’t stop my execution. Why he just watched.

But if I did… would he think me mad? Or worse—would he remember?

No. For now, I would pretend. Observe. Survive.

This time, I arrived at the chapel early.

Caelan stood near the altar, speaking to a robed official. His back was to me, regal and composed. Just seeing him made my stomach twist.

He turned at my footsteps.

His smile was soft. “Eira.”

I studied him closely. He looked exactly the same. Warm, even. Nothing in his expression hinted at what would come.

“I wanted to see you,” I said carefully. “Before the ceremony.”

“Of course. You look beautiful.” His gaze swept over me, appreciative. “Nervous?”

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I said, “Not at all.”

The ceremony began as it had before. The incense, the murmured prayers, the weight of every eye in the chapel.

I held my breath when the doors opened.

But no one came.

No guards. No accusations. No screams.

Not yet.

I dared a glance at Caelan.

He was smiling faintly, watching me with something that looked like... admiration?

Was it possible the loop had changed?

Or was I being toyed with?

Then the priest raised his hands to begin the vows—

And the doors burst open.

“Eira Valenne,” a voice thundered.

My heart dropped. Again.

The same captain. The same scroll. The same charges.

But this time… I didn’t panic.

“By decree of the Crown, you are under arrest for treason—”

“On what evidence?” I asked calmly, stepping forward.

The guard blinked, thrown off. “The Crown has confirmed—”

“Then I demand to see it.”

Whispers rose in the crowd. Even the priest looked confused.

“I am a noblewoman of House Valenne. You will not touch me without proof.”

The guards hesitated. They weren’t used to resistance.

I turned to Caelan.

He looked at me, eyes unreadable. A slow breath passed between us.

He said nothing.

“Caelan,” I said, clearly and firmly. “Do you believe I am a traitor?”

The silence stretched.

Then—

“I’m sorry, Elyria.”

He stepped back.

The guards surged forward. I didn’t fight. I knew what came next.

The execution yard was colder this time.

They didn’t even change the chains.

The same crowd watched, hungry for justice.

I looked up at the sky, at the sun setting behind the towers.

I closed my eyes.

Not this time. Not again.

The blade fell.

I awoke gasping.

Same room. Same gown. Same roses.

And Leira, again.

“My lady? Are you well? You look pale…”

I sat up slowly.

“Bring me ink and parchment,” I said.

“My lady?”

“I have a list to write. A long one.”

And I smiled.

This time, I wouldn’t waste a single loop.

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