The Saintess Who Stole My Fate

I was born to be the Saintess of Elarion.

At least, that was what everyone told me.

The priests of Silvermoon Temple said my veins glowed before I even learned to walk. My father, Duke Aldric Ashbourne, held a banquet for seven days when the oracle confirmed it. Nobles sent gifts. The queen kissed my forehead. Even the king himself once said I would become the shield of the kingdom.

I was Mira Ashbourne.

Duke’s daughter.

Future Saintess.

Fiancée of the Ninth Prince.

A girl raised so high that I never saw the abyss waiting beneath my feet.

Then Seraphina came.

She arrived at Ashbourne Manor as my personal maid.

Small face. Clear eyes. Soft voice.

She looked like the sort of girl people wanted to protect.

I later learned she was not a maid at all.

She was my father’s illegitimate daughter.

To protect her, he changed her name, hid her origin, and placed her beside me like a knife wrapped in silk.

At first, I did not care.

Servants came and went. A duke’s daughter did not need to notice every girl who poured her tea.

But strange things began happening after Seraphina arrived.

Every few weeks, my courtyard received gifts from my father.

Silk gowns. Pearl pins. Imported perfume. Silver-threaded shoes.

I thought they were for me.

Until I saw Seraphina wearing them.

A maid dressed better than the daughters of lesser nobles.

A servant whose monthly allowance exceeded that of my half-sisters.

I warned her once.

“Do not dress so loudly. This is still a duke’s house.”

She lowered her head and agreed.

The next day, she walked through the garden in a gown of pale gold silk.

My half-sisters laughed behind their fans.

I punished her.

Not cruelly at first.

But enough to remind everyone of her place.

That was the beginning of my ruin.

Father said I was harsh. The servants whispered I was jealous. The court called me arrogant. Prince Kael grew colder every time he saw me.

And Seraphina cried.

She cried beautifully.

So beautifully that truth itself seemed cruel beside her tears.

Later, during the Rite of Divine Veins, she stood beneath the silver altar and light poured from her body.

Holy light.

Saintess light.

The same light everyone had promised belonged to me.

The crowd gasped.

The priests fell to their knees.

My father wept.

And I, Mira Ashbourne, the girl raised as the future Saintess, became the joke of the kingdom.

That was when I learned the truth.

Seraphina had stolen my fate.

Not metaphorically.

Not emotionally.

Literally.

The heavens had chosen her as the heroine of this world.

And I was only the shadow written to make her shine.

I fought.

Of course I fought.

I was proud. I was furious. I was eighteen and stupid enough to believe justice cared who had suffered first.

My anger became darkness.

Darkness became power.

Power became proof that I was exactly what they said I was.

A demon vessel.

A fallen noblewoman.

A villainess.

In the end, Prince Kael came to kill me.

He wore silver armor and carried the Heartsever Blade.

I knew he had come under royal order.

I knew he would choose the kingdom.

I knew he had never loved me the way I loved him.

Still, when he looked at me with those gentle eyes and said my name, I believed him.

One last time.

“Mira,” he whispered, “come back with me.”

So I lowered my guard.

The blade went through my chest.

Cold first.

Then pain.

Then the taste of blood.

I looked at him through the blur of my dying eyes and asked the question that had haunted me for years.

“Kael, did you ever love me?”

He looked down at me.

No grief.

No hesitation.

Only silence.

That silence followed me into death.

My soul sank into the Abyss of Forgotten Rivers, but it would not dissolve.

Maybe my hatred was too heavy.

Maybe the world had taken too much from me.

Maybe even fate grew tired of watching me lose.

When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting before my dressing mirror.

My face was young.

My skin smooth.

My body unscarred.

Outside the window, snow fell over Ashbourne Manor.

I had returned.

Before the Rite.

Before my fall.

Before Kael killed me.

But something was different.

The holy warmth that had once flowed through my veins was gone.

In its place, something opened inside my chest.

An eye.

Ancient.

Green.

Rotting and alive.

The Demon Eye blinked within me, swallowing the last remnants of my saintess blood.

I stared at my reflection.

The girl in the mirror was still beautiful.

Still noble.

Still doomed, perhaps.

But this time, I smiled.

If heaven wanted a villainess, I would give it one.

The door opened.

Seraphina walked in with a tray of tea.

She was exactly as I remembered.

Soft. Pretty. Harmless.

A snake in a white dress.

“My lady,” she said sweetly, “the weather is cold today. Shall I bring you another cloak?”

I turned toward her.

For a moment, hatred clawed up my throat.

Then I smiled.

“Seraphina,” I said gently, “why are you dressed so thinly? Come here. Let me see if the servants have been mistreating you.”

Her eyes brightened at once.

She stepped closer, already preparing to cry.

Good.

Cry.

Take what I give you.

This time, every gift would be a trap.