The blade came down fast.
A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she twisted, the cold edge stopping just a breath away from her throat. The air felt too thin, too heavy, like it refused to let her breathe properly.
"Your Majesty!"
Hands grabbed her arms, forcing her down onto the hard stone floor. The impact sent a dull pain through her knees, but she barely felt it.
Everything around her was loud. Chaotic.
Voices overlapped. Some angry. Some afraid. Others… relieved.
She didn't understand any of it.
Her heart pounded wildly, like it was trying to escape her chest. She looked up, her vision slightly blurred, and then she saw him.
The king.
He stood above the steps, distant and untouchable, his expression colder than anything she had ever seen. There was no hesitation in his eyes. No doubt.
Only judgment.
"Empress," he said quietly, yet his voice carried through the entire courtyard. "Do you have any last words?"
Last words?
The phrase didn't make sense at first.
Then it did.
Execution.
The realization hit her so suddenly it made her dizzy.
No… this isn't real.
But it felt real.
Too real.
The chains around her wrists bit into her skin. The guards' grip was firm. Unforgiving. The stone beneath her was freezing.
This wasn't a dream.
Panic rose in her chest, sharp and suffocating.
Then, without warning, something else came rushing in.
Memories.
Not hers.
A story she had read. Late nights. A tragic ending she couldn't forget.
A villainess empress.
Hated. Abandoned.
Kneeling in the snow as a blade took her life.
Her breath hitched.
No… no—
The executioner lifted his sword again.
Time seemed to slow.
Her thoughts scattered. Her chest tightened.
This is how she died.
This is how I die.
Darkness crashed into her before the blade could fall.
—
She woke up gasping.
Air rushed into her lungs so quickly it hurt. Her whole body jerked as she sat up, tangled in soft sheets that didn't belong to her.
Her hands flew to her neck.
Nothing.
No blood. No wound.
But she could still feel it. That cold, terrifying closeness of the blade.
Her breathing didn't slow.
It couldn't.
Her eyes darted around the room.
Silk curtains. Golden details. Everything looked elegant… distant… wrong.
This wasn't her room.
This wasn't her life.
Footsteps rushed in, hurried and uneven.
"Your Majesty!"
A young maid dropped to her knees beside the bed, clearly shaken. "You fainted earlier. We were so worried—"
"Mirror."
The word came out before she could think.
It didn't sound like her.
It sounded… controlled. Used to being obeyed.
The maid quickly nodded and brought a bronze mirror with trembling hands.
For a moment, she hesitated.
Then she looked.
And everything inside her went still.
The face staring back at her was beautiful in a way that didn't feel real. Perfect. Distant. Untouchable.
Someone powerful.
Someone feared.
Someone she recognized instantly.
The Empress.
The villainess.
The woman who was supposed to die in that courtyard.
Her fingers tightened around the mirror.
So it wasn't a nightmare.
It was a glimpse of what was coming.
A slow, heavy realization settled deep inside her.
If she followed the story…
She would die.
Her reflection stared back at her, calm and cold, nothing like the storm inside her chest.
This body had already lived a life filled with mistakes.
But she hadn't.
And she wasn't going to repeat them.
Her lips parted slightly, her voice quieter now, but steadier.
"No…"
This time, there was no fear in it.
"I'm not dying like that."
Outside, the palace remained peaceful, unaware that something had already changed.
The villainess who was meant to fall…
Had just decided she wouldn't.