"So I lost you to death again."
Helena Blackmoore opened her eyes and gasped. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She sat up in bed and ran her hands over her chest.
Helena took a deep, relieved breath. There was no sword impaling her heart.
"Am I dreaming? But it felt so real."
Helena stared at her bedroom and frowned.
Something was different.
At first, nothing seemed to have changed. It was an ordinary bedroom. However, Helena had renovated her plain bedroom before. She had torn down the old green wallpaper and replaced it with fleur-de-lis. Helena hung a crystal chandelier from the ceiling to flaunt her wealth. She collected paintings and statues made by renowned craftsmen and used them to decorate her room.
Everything reverted to how it had been before.
Realisation filled her with dread. Helena stepped down from her bed and rushed to the balcony. The wind blew gently through her long, straight, black hair as she opened the door. Her moonstone-grey eyes stared at the blue sky. Blackmoore Estate was beautiful: the sun shone brightly above the manor, the landscape was lush and green, and the garden was full of flowers.
Her eyes were wide open. It was spring, not autumn.
She held her head and screamed. "No! No, no, no! This is not happening!"
Helena had returned to the past.
Again.