🌸 A Note From the Author
By Zainab
Hello dear reader,
Welcome to The Queen Who Killed Me Twice. This story is very close to my heart — a tale of love, betrayal, second chances, and the haunting power of memory.
You're about to enter a kingdom full of secrets, where even time itself can't erase the truth. I wanted to explore what happens when someone is given the rare chance to live again — not as a hero, not as a villain — but as someone still searching for answers.
This novel has everything I love to read and write:
✨ Royal drama
✨ A strong, wounded main character
✨ Unexpected twists
✨ Emotional slow-burn romance
✨ And the kind of betrayals that change everything
I hope this story makes you feel something — whether it's rage, hope, love, or heartbreak. If it does, then we're already connected.
Thank you for giving this story a chance. And thank you for supporting my words.
With l
ove and ink,
Zainab
Introduction
They say death is the end.
But for me, it was only the beginning.
I was executed for treason I didn't commit—by the queen I once swore to protect. Her eyes were cold when she ordered my death, her voice steady. That was the last thing I remembered…
Until I woke up.
Ten years earlier.
Alive.
You'd think I would run. Hide. Start over. But how do you run from a future that already knows your name?
This time, I'm not here to serve.
I'm here to find out why she killed me.
And what she's hiding.
Because the truth is, something darker than betrayal lies beneath the throne of Veyl.
And this time, I'm not dying without answers.
Chapter One: The Kingdom of Thorns
The Kingdom of Veyl had no stars. Just a ceiling of clouds that refused to break, holding light captive like a secret no one dared to speak. It rained often in Veyl, not heavily, not enough to cleanse the blood that soaked into the cobblestones, but just enough to make it harder to see where it ended and began.
They used to call it the Kingdom of Flame—back when the royal banners were crimson and the Queen's laughter rang louder than the church bells. Before everything turned cold.
Before I died.
My name was Kael, once. Just Kael. No title. No house. I was born behind the slaughterhouse in a part of the capital no one wrote about. My mother was sold for a bucket of coal before I could speak. My first breath came wrapped in the scent of death.
And yet somehow, I had made it to the palace.
I had worn the Queen's armor.
I had touched her hands.
I had died for her.
And then, I woke up again.
Not metaphorically—truly.
I felt the same blade cut through my chest, and as the darkness swallowed me, I expected the nothingness that came before. But I opened my eyes to dawn, a softer kind than Veyl had known in years. I gasped, my lungs younger. My hands unscarred. I lay in the ashes of a burnt-down mill in the South Quarter. No blood, no chains.
The year was 1022 again.
Ten years before the war.
Ten years before the betrayal.
Ten years before she killed me.
I didn't know if this was punishment or miracle, but I knew two things:
First, I had been here before.
Second, I would not die the same way again.
I spent the next week pretending to be the man I once was. A starving orphan with no name, no future. I slept in a rat-infested cellar beneath a tavern where even the ghosts drank out of desperation.
But I listened.
Rumors moved fast in Veyl: the queen's cousin was dead, assassinated at the border. The royal guard was recruiting—too quickly, too quietly. The capital was boiling under the surface. Something was coming, just like last time.
I remembered every wrong turn I took in my last life. How I blindly joined the palace guard, grateful to be chosen, only to be used. How I saved the queen from an assassin and was promoted—praised, trusted. How I fell for her silence, her sharp stares, her hidden grief. How I thought love could mean something between a street rat and a crowned storm.
And how she—Queen Alevra—had me executed for treason ten years later, without trial.
But this time… things were already changing.
I hadn't even joined the guard yet, and she had already sent someone to watch me.
It happened on the fifth night.
I was returning from the outer wall, where I'd gone to watch the merchant caravans. I was dirty, shoeless, just another shadow among hundreds. But as I crossed the courtyard near the Black Market, I felt it—a flicker of magic in the air, sharp as frost on steel.
A tracer spell.
They were subtle. Most people couldn't feel them. But I had magic once. A rare kind. The kind the Crown banned.
The kind that got you burned alive in public squares.
I ducked into an alley, my fingers twitching instinctively toward the spell still crawling behind me. Whoever had cast it was skilled—but not expecting resistance. With one breath, I disrupted the spell with a short word in the old tongue.
Silence.
Then—a whisper.
"You shouldn't know how to do that."
I turned slowly. She was standing behind me, half her face hidden by a cloak, but the other half lit by torchlight. Pale skin. Eyes like silver dust. The Queen's Shadow.
Her name, in the old timeline, was Reya. She had once warned me not to trust the crown.
Now she was here before she should have even known my name.
"Who are you?" I asked, playing dumb.
"You used Crownbreaker magic," she said quietly. "You should be dead."
"Maybe I am," I replied.
She studied me for a long time. Then she said something I didn't expect.
"She asked me to find you."
"She…?"
"The Queen."
I didn't sleep that night.
The timelines were shifting. She had never sent anyone before—not until I joined the palace. Not until I'd proved my loyalty. But now she was searching for me before she even knew me.
Why?
Was she remembering too?
Was this her second chance too
I joined the Royal Guard two days later. Voluntarily, like last time. It was easier this time, strangely. The recruiter didn't even ask my full name. The palace was desperate for soldiers, even dirty ones with no past.
I was assigned to the Night Watch. South Tower. Exactly where I had been placed the first time.
But on my first night, the Queen came to the tower herself.
She wore no crown. Just a black cloak and boots. Her hair was loose, not braided like usual. And she walked straight to me without hesitation.
"You're Kael," she said, like it was fact.
"I am," I answered. "Your Majesty."
She stepped closer. Her eyes met mine. And for a moment—just a moment—I saw confusion flicker in them. Like she was trying to remember something she couldn't name.
Then she said something that changed everything.
"I've seen you before."
I blinked. "Where?"
"In a dream."