With a sharp gasp, Jovine jolted forward, clutching her chest as if she could still feel the pierce of the blade within her heart.
But, it wasn’t there.
The sound of cheerful chatter, clinking glasses, and lively music perforated her disordered senses, and when her surroundings finally came into focus, she was lost.
The Royal Banquet Hall. But, what was she doing there?
With her last memory being her own tragic demise, she couldn’t make sense of the bright lights and the suffocating crowd of nobles blurring her vision. She couldn’t remember anything else.
How she got here. How she was still alive. Nothing made sense.
Still clutching her chest, she clawed at her skin, still feeling the way the knife was embedded within her. Shaking uncontrollably, her breaths stuttered until it felt like her lungs would explode.
She couldn’t breathe.
Just the way she couldn’t as she dragged herself across the blood-stained floor, desperate to get to the door before life was ripped away from her.
She bent over, unconsciously ripping at her corset, trying to free herself of the overwhelming suffocation hell bent on taking her away from this world again.
Help me. Someone help me.
A warm hand settled over hers, the unforgiving pressure of it momentarily anchoring her.
“Empress?”
Richard’s hard voice broke through the panic, but it brought her no semblance of calm.
It enraged her.
“Jovine, what’s wrong? You’re making a scene,” he hissed under his breath, tightening his grip on her fragile fingers until the pain of it caused her to inhale her first full breath of air into her burning lungs.
Traitor. Bastard. You devil scoundrel.
Unable to bear the feel of his touch, Jovine wrenched her hand away from her husband’s grasp. “Don’t touch me,” she bit out through clenched teeth, her voice sounding unsteady and venomous.
Without even looking at him, she could sense the shock rippling through the bewildered Emperor.
But, it didn’t matter to her anymore.
Where there was once great affection and tender adoration for the man she had loved, there was now only pure disgust and fury.
Even now, she couldn’t unsee the way he pleasured that wicked woman as Jovine laid in a pool of her own blood, reaching out for anyone to hear her. To save her.
Trembling from the flood of emotions tearing at her, Jovine blindly stood, needing to get out.
Distantly, she thought she heard Richard calling her name, but it didn’t stop her.
Long rows of white-clothed tables filled with delectable dishes and a floor of dancing guests who were now staring at the stumbling Empress entered her unfocused gaze as she maneuvered her way towards any exit that would free her.
I need air. I need to breathe. I can’t breathe.
The panic came rushing back.
What was happening to her? She had died, hadn’t she?
Cradling her head between her hands, Jovine staggered into the nearest wall. She couldn’t remember anything. Her memories were distorted. Gone.
She recalled every painful experience of loving and losing her husband. She remembered everything until the day Emilia Syrene was proclaimed as the Royal Concubine.
And, she remembered her death.
But, everything in between was gone.
What’s happening? Have I gone mad? Where am I? Who am I?
“Your Majesty?” A soft, worried voice she knew well called out to her.
“Erin,” Jovine whispered brokenly, looking into the concerned face of the young maid who had stayed by her side since she was a child. “Take me away from here.”
Nodding fervently, Erin took a hold of the Empress, guiding her through the halls and stairs until Jovine found herself back in her chambers.
“Your Majesty, are you feeling unwell again?” Erin asked in alarm as Jovine fell to the floor, her hands still grasping her muddled head.
“Where are we, Erin? What’s happening?”
“Should I call for the Royal Physician? You were feeling fine just this afternoon…have your migraines returned?”
Clutching onto the girl who was kneeled on the ground with her, Jovine spoke with panicked eyes, “Something has happened. I was dead, but now I’m not. And, my memories. I can’t recall anything important. I can’t —”
“Your Majesty,” the maid exclaimed, her doe-like face distorting in genuine distress for the unstable state of her Empress’ sanity.
Before she could continue, the rest of her ladies-in-waiting appeared. At the sound of their simultaneous outbursts of concern, Jovine’s mind rang with trepidation. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt exposed and vulnerable, even with her faithful attendants who had always been a source of comfort and friendship.
“I need to speak with Erin. Everyone else, leave,” she ordered shakily.
Although startled by her abrupt command, they obeyed and departed quietly, leaving the two women in the drawing room.
“Your Majesty?” Erin squeaked.
“Erin, I need to talk to a friend right now,” Jovine started, determined to regain her composure before her mind was truly lost. “Can you do that for me?”
A moment of silence passed before Erin spoke again. “Jovine, what’s wrong?”
Heaving out a breath, Jovine looked up at her closest friend, the one person she was sure she could trust right now. “What I’m about to tell you will not make sense. In fact, I can’t even be sure if I’m sane right now. But, I need you to believe me because I don’t think I’ll make it out of this alone.”
“Whatever it is, I’m with you,” Erin assured her, and Jovine couldn’t stop her tears at those words.
For so long, she had isolated herself, her gaze solely fixed upon her unfaithful husband she was so intent on getting back. She faked smiles and displayed good health, when in reality, she submerged herself in misery and pain as soon as she locked herself away from the rest of the world. But, no longer would she sacrifice her well-being for the good of her husband. She would rage against it all instead.
Taking a breath, Jovine began.
She told her everything, starting from the recollection of her wrongful death to the alarming gaps in her faded memories. She let down her guard and finally expressed the torment of her broken heart and the anger that now consumed her.
And, in return, Erin listened without a hint of doubt flashing across her face and offered explanations for the missing cracks in her past.
It was Richard’s birthday, and the Banquet was for his celebration. Emilia Syrene was proclaimed as the Concubine just a few months ago, and since then, Jovine had remained the subservient Empress loyal to her husband despite his betrayal.
No more, Jovine thought to herself. I will take it no more.
“Do you really believe me?” Jovine finally asked. “I wouldn’t have.”
Erin gave a sad smile. “I believe you. It does sound bizarre, but there have been talks of strange things happening in the Empire.”
At that, Jovine straightened. “What do you mean?”
“There are rumors circling through town, talking about…magic,” Erin hesitantly supplied.
Magic?
Magic didn’t exist.
But, if that was the truth, how was she here right now?
By some miracle, Jovine had traveled back to the past, and this time, she was determined to stay alive and reap tragedy on those who had wronged her.
She had once existed in a haze, blinded by love and pathetically ignorant to everything but her husband and her husband only.
But, now she was awake.
And, for the first time, she felt truly alive for it.
“Tell me everything.”
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