When she opened her eyes, the familiar canopy of her bed filled her vision.
“What?”
She jolted upright, scanning her surroundings.
There was no sign of Angelina, no trace of the academy garden.
Throwing back the neatly tucked covers, Milly cautiously moved her body.
“Nothing’s...wrong.”
She patted herself down. Her body was perfectly healthy. Normal. Magic, too, seemed to be intact. On a whim, she murmured, “Water Bubble,” and in an instant, her nightclothes were soaked through with a loud splash.
The sensation of being drenched was unpleasant, but it drove home one thing. This wasn’t a dream.
I’m alive?
She had just died moments ago, so how could this be? That feeling of her body being erased hadn’t been a misunderstanding nor a dream.
Maybe she’d been saved somehow, but if that were the case, then why was she here? This was undeniably her bedroom on the second floor of the Asteara estate. Yet she hadn’t slept here since the ducal title had been stripped from her and she’d been cast out.
“My lady, are you awake?”
The familiar voice from beyond the door startled her. She was certain it belonged to her personal maid. Milly hadn’t seen her at all since losing her title, and yet here she was, addressing her as “my lady” again, to boot.
What is going on?
Surely this wasn’t mockery, like when Angelina had said it.
Out of habit, she said, “Come in.” The maid entered, and the moment their eyes met, she rushed to Milly’s side in alarm.
“My lady! What on earth has happened?! Your nightclothes are soaked through!”
“Ah...”
“You haven’t caught a chill, have you? Oh, what should we do? Your entrance ceremony is this weekend.”
The maid showed no sign of surprise at seeing Milly here, despite the fact she had been banished from the estate. And there was something else in her words that caught Milly’s attention. Her brows knit as she looked at the flustered woman.
Did she just say the entrance ceremony is this weekend?
She didn’t need to ask which one. It had to be the entrance ceremony for the academy, the very one she had already attended, the same academy where she had just lost her life. Yet somehow, the maid had clearly said it was this upcoming weekend.
That’s impossible. The entrance ceremony was three years ago.
Following that thread, Milly reached one startling possibility.
“Bibi,” she said.
“Yes, my lady?” the maid responded in turn.
“What year is it, in the royal calendar?”
The maid, Bibi, blinked rapidly at the sudden question, then answered.
“It’s the year 1300, of course.”
In that instant, Milly knew.
Time had been rewound.
She remembered it vividly. The stripping of the Asteara Grand Ducal title, her father’s execution by guillotine, and her own death at Angelina’s hands—all of it had happened in 1303.
There was no way those three years had been a dream or a lie. Which meant the most natural explanation was that, for some reason, time had turned back, and she retained the memories.
“I see. I see.”
There was no other possibility.
The moment she accepted that truth, Milly could no longer contain the laughter bubbling up inside her.
“My lady?”
“Yes, that’s it. I understand perfectly now. Thank you, Bibi.”
“Huh? Um, well, you’re...welcome?”
Bibi tilted her head in puzzlement.
Slipping past her maid, Milly stepped out into the hall in her soaked nightclothes.
“Ah, m-my lady! Where are you going?!”
“To wash my face! There’s so much I need to find out, and I plan to start posthaste.”
Bibi called after her, but Milly’s brisk steps didn’t slow.
Yes. Yes, that’s right. I’m not letting it end like that.
It had been eighteen years since she was born. Or rather, fifteen in this rewound world. Either way, she had never felt her heart race like this.
In that moment when her body wouldn’t move—when the wand was aimed at her and death loomed before her—Milly had been filled with confusion and hatred. She had been completely at a loss, yet consumed with loathing for Angelina. She’d wanted to sew shut the mouth that spewed nonsense, and in her final moments, she had even thought of cursing her.
And now? Now time had turned back, as if Heaven itself had granted her the chance to do it over; nothing could be more welcome.
“‘Villainess,’ was it?” Striding down the corridor with a bright, almost cheerful air, Milly’s lips curled into a smirk.
A passing maid glanced at Milly as if spellbound. Blushing faintly, she could have no idea just how light and clear Milly’s thoughts were in that moment.
“I’ll never forgive you. This time, I won’t let you have your way.” Murmuring a declaration, Milly spun lightly on her heel, her mood buoyant.