The executioner's blade felt cold against my neck even through the memory. I gasped, lurching upright in bed, my hands flying to my throat. Smooth skin. No blood. No iron collar. I was alive. "Impossible," I whispered, but my voice—younger, stronger—proved otherwise. Moonlight streamed through windows I hadn't seen in fifteen years. The blue silk curtains of my bridal chamber, before they'd been replaced with the austere grey my husband preferred. Before *she* had redecorated everything to suit her tastes. My hands trembled as I brought them before my face. No wrinkles. No scars from the torture. The moonstone ring my mother gave me still gleamed on my finger—the one I'd sold to fund relief efforts during the famine, the famine that had been the beginning of my downfall. The date. I needed to know the date. I stumbled from bed, my legs weak and uncertain, and found the calendar on my writing desk. My heart stopped. *Spring, Year 307. The Year of the Phoenix.* The year the Great War began. The year everything started to unravel. I was twenty-three again. Newly married to Duke Cassius Thornhart, the realm's greatest military commander. Blissfully ignorant of what the next fifteen years would bring. Blissfully ignorant that my husband had never stopped loving Seraphina Ashwood, his childhood companion. That woman who would return from exile with a child—a forbidden half-blood, the product of her affair with a vampire lord—and claim sanctuary in my home. That I, in my naive compassion, would grant it. The memories crashed over me like waves. Seraphina's tears as she begged for protection. My son, Damien, born three months before her daughter Lyra. How Cassius had grown distant after Seraphina's arrival, spending more time in her quarters than mine. Then the switch. The unthinkable crime they'd committed together. They had swapped the children. Taken my pureblooded son and given him to Seraphina to raise. Given me her tainted daughter to nurse and love as my own. For five years, I'd raised Lyra believing she was mine, while my true son called another woman "mother." When the truth emerged—revealed by a servant's deathbed confession—I'd confronted them. That had been my fatal mistake. Instead of justice, I'd found conspiracy. They'd used the child swap as evidence against me, claiming *I* had stolen Seraphina's child to replace my own "defective" offspring. They fabricated documents, bribed witnesses, and painted me as a traitor who'd collaborated with vampire forces during the war. The Council had believed them. Cassius's war hero status gave him credibility I couldn't match. And Damien—my own son, poisoned against me by years of Seraphina's lies—had testified at my trial. He'd looked at me with such hatred, calling me a monster who'd tried to murder his "real" mother. I'd screamed the truth from the executioner's platform. No one had listened. But now... now I was here again. At the beginning. A knock at the door made me jump. "My lady?" My maid Helena's voice, young and alive. She'd been executed too, for refusing to testify against me. "The Duke requests your presence at breakfast." Cassius. My husband who would betray me. Who was, at this very moment, probably already corresponding with Seraphina, planning her return. "Tell him I'll be down shortly," I managed, my voice steady despite the rage building in my chest. I had to think. Had to plan. Simply exposing the future plot wouldn't work—I had no proof, and Cassius's influence far exceeded mine. Any accusations would only make me look unstable, paranoid. No. I needed to be strategic. I needed to prevent the circumstances that had led to my downfall. Which meant Seraphina could never return. Lyra could never be swapped with Damien. The war could never give Cassius the power and prestige he'd used to destroy me. As I dressed, my mind raced through possibilities. In my previous life, Seraphina had fled to the Blackwood Territory after her affair was discovered. She'd lived there in hiding until the war started, when chaos provided cover for her return. The war began in three months, when the Vampire Covenant violated the treaty and attacked the eastern border. Cassius would be named Supreme Commander, giving him the authority to grant pardons and sanctuary. That's when he'd bring Seraphina back. But what if there was no war? What if the treaty held? I'd learned something during my years of captivity, waiting for execution. One of my guards, a talkative fool, had boasted about the truth behind the war's beginning. It hadn't been a random attack. It had been orchestrated by a faction within our own Council—nobles who profited from conflict, who'd secretly provoked the vampire clans. Lord Regent Matthias Blackwell had been the architect. And his co-conspirator? Duke Cassius Thornhart. My husband had helped start a war that killed thousands, all to create the chaos necessary to bring back his forbidden love. The revelation had come too late to save me then. But now? Now I could use it. "My lady, you look pale," Helena said when I finally emerged. "Should I send for the physician?" "No." I smiled at her, this loyal woman who would die for me. Not this time. "I'm perfectly well. Better than I've been in years, actually." Cassius was already seated when I entered the breakfast room, reading dispatches. He looked up, and my breath caught. I'd forgotten how handsome he was at this age, before bitterness and guilt had carved lines into his face. Dark hair, steel-grey eyes, the strong jaw that had made half the noble ladies swoon. I'd loved him once. Truly, deeply loved him. The memory of that love made what I had to do easier. "Elara." He stood, ever the gentleman. "You look radiant this morning." Liar. He'd written to Seraphina last night—I remembered now, finding the letters years later. He'd told her that looking at me made him ache, because I wasn't her. "Thank you, husband." I took my seat, accepting tea from a servant. "I had the most interesting dream last night. About the future." His expression didn't change. "Oh?" "I dreamed of war. Of betrayal. Of our son calling me a monster." I watched him over the rim of my cup. "Strange, isn't it? How real dreams can feel?" A flicker of something crossed his face. Discomfort? Guilt? "The mind conjures odd fancies sometimes. You shouldn't let it trouble you." "You're right, of course." I set down my cup. "Tell me, have you heard any news from the Blackwood Territory lately? I understand Lord Regent Matthias has been quite active in border negotiations." Now I had his full attention. "Why do you ask?" "Mere curiosity. I've been thinking about the treaty, and how... fragile peace can be. How easily it could shatter if someone wanted it to." The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. "You seem different today," Cassius said finally. "More... focused." "Perhaps I'm finally seeing clearly." I smiled, and it wasn't entirely false. "I've been naive, husband. Sheltered. But I'm learning that in this world, one must be vigilant. Protective of what's theirs." "Indeed." He returned to his dispatches, but I could see tension in his shoulders. Good. Let him wonder. Let him worry. I had three months before the war was supposed to start. Three months to gather evidence of the conspiracy, to expose Cassius and Matthias, to prevent the chaos that would allow Seraphina's return. And I had one more advantage they didn't know about. I was already pregnant with Damien. Two months along, though I hadn't announced it yet. In my previous life, I'd waited until the fourth month, following tradition. This time, I wouldn't wait at all. This time, I would ensure my son stayed mine. No matter what I had to do.