I died burning at the stake.


    The faces of those I once loved surrounded me, staring with cold indifference. My father, my brother, my once-loyal knight, my childhood friend, and even the maids who used to giggle at my every whim. They all stood by the saintess, their eyes full of worship for her, while I—Princess Kito—was cast away like a villainess in some tragic tale.


    And when the flames licked at my skin, I screamed—not for mercy, but for revenge.


    Then, I opened my eyes.


    I was alive.


    The silken drapes of my childhood chamber, the delicate scent of fresh lilacs, and the warmth of the morning sun greeted me like a cruel joke. My hands, once charred and trembling in agony, were small, smooth, and unscarred.


    I had returned.


    Regressed, to the time before the saintess arrived.


    Before she took everything from me.


    Before they all betrayed me.


    My father, the great King Aziel, smiled warmly as I stepped into the dining hall. My mother, beautiful and elegant, sipped her tea as she motioned for me to sit beside her. My brother, the future crown prince, looked at me with the same affectionate gaze he had before she came.


    "Kito, you’re up early today. Come, sit and eat," my father said, his deep voice filled with warmth.


    I stared at them blankly.


    These were the people who had stood by, letting me burn.


    "No, thank you," I said coolly. "I have no appetite."


    A moment of silence. Then, my mother frowned. "Are you feeling unwell, my dear?"


    I turned away. "I have decided to move to my own mansion. I will be leaving the palace."


    The entire table went still. Forks clattered onto plates.


    "What nonsense are you speaking?" my father asked, his tone gentle but firm.


    "It is not nonsense," I replied. "I have already arranged everything. I will be handling my own finances and affairs from now on."


    "Handling your own—?" My brother scoffed. "Kito, you are a princess. You do not need to burden yourself with such—"


    "I am not asking for permission," I cut him off. "I am simply informing you."


    Shock flickered across his face.


    "Kito, you’re being unreasonable," my mother said, her voice turning sharp. "What has brought this on?"


    What has brought this on?


    Being abandoned. Being framed. Being beaten. Being burned alive.


    "Nothing," I said. "I have simply come to my senses."


    News of my decision spread like wildfire through the palace. Servants whispered, nobles gossiped, and even my personal maid, Liana—the one who had once been my most trusted confidante—looked at me with teary eyes.


    "Your Highness, please reconsider!" she begged. "You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to push everyone away."


    I met her gaze coldly. "Liana, you are dismissed."


    Her breath hitched. "W-What?"


    "You are no longer my maid. Go serve someone else."


    Tears welled up in her eyes, but I felt nothing.


    This was the same woman who had watched as the guards threw me into the pyre. The same woman who had once sworn loyalty, only to abandon me the moment things turned against me.


    "Please," she whispered. "I—I only want to help you."


    I turned my back to her. "Then help me by leaving."


    Stolen novel; please report.


    The day I left the palace, people stared at me as if I had gone mad.


    A princess choosing exile?


    A noble lady refusing her betrothed?


    Yes.


    Let them talk.


    My carriage stopped before my newly purchased mansion—bought entirely with the wealth I had secretly amassed through various business dealings.


    It was smaller than the palace, but it was mine.


    No more father to scold me. No more mother to guilt-trip me. No more brother watching over my every move.


    And most importantly—no more saintess to steal my life away.


    "Your Highness," a gruff voice interrupted my thoughts.


    I turned to see the man I had hired. A mercenary. My new bodyguard.


    Draven. Towering, scarred, and utterly ruthless.


    "No need to call me ‘Highness,’" I said. "From now on, I am simply Kito."


    He smirked. "Understood. What’s next?"


    "Next?" I glanced at my mansion, feeling the first hints of something I hadn’t felt in a long time.


    Freedom.


    "Now," I said, stepping inside. "We begin."


    My parents did not take my rejection lightly.


    Letters arrived daily, each one carefully worded, each one ignored.


    The first one was from my father.


    Dearest Kito,


    You are still my daughter. Whatever has upset you, we can resolve it together. Return home.


    I burned it in the fireplace.


    The next was from my mother.


    Kito, darling. Running away will not solve anything. Please come back and let us talk.


    Talk? What was there to talk about? Would she promise not to let the saintess steal my place? Would she swear she would not turn her back on me?


    Lies.


    The third letter was from my brother.


    Kito, whatever nonsense this is, end it now. This is unbecoming of you.


    Unbecoming? He had no idea what I had endured. He had no right to tell me how to live.


    One day, they sent an envoy. My father’s most trusted knight arrived at my gates, demanding entrance.


    Draven met him at the door, arms crossed, eyes bored. "The lady of the house does not wish to see visitors."


    "She is a princess!" the knight snapped. "She belongs in the palace!"


    Draven grinned, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "She belongs wherever she chooses. Now leave."


    The knight left, fuming.


    My parents would not stop trying.


    But I had already stopped listening.


    The restaurant was abuzz with soft chatter, the delicate clinking of glasses, and the rich aroma of roasted duck and fine wine filling the air. It was one of the most prestigious establishments in the capital, a place where only the highest nobles dined.


    I had chosen it precisely for that reason.


    Let them see. Let them whisper. Let them talk about the fallen princess who had abandoned her title, her family, and now… her betrothed.


    I sipped my tea, letting its warmth settle in my chest, when the air around me shifted. A presence. A disturbance.


    "Kito."


    I sighed. Of course, he would come.


    Duke Alistair D''Vance, my former fiancé, stood before me, his sharp golden eyes unreadable, his posture stiff with barely concealed frustration. The heir to the most powerful ducal house in the kingdom, the man once fated to be my husband, and the one who, in my past life, had turned his back on me for the saintess.


    I set my cup down with deliberate slowness. "Duke D''Vance. To what do I owe the pleasure?"


    His jaw tightened. "You know why I’m here."


    I smiled coolly. "Do I?"


    "You are calling off the engagement?" His voice was measured, but I could hear the tension beneath it. "Without discussion? Without reason?"


    I leaned back, studying him with mild amusement. "I was under the impression that an engagement required both parties’ consent. I no longer consent."


    "This is not a joke, Kito." His hands curled into fists at his sides. "You are a princess. Our marriage was arranged for the stability of the kingdom—"


    "Ah, so it was never about me, then?" I tilted my head. "Merely politics?"


    He hesitated. "That is not what I meant."


    "But it’s the truth, isn’t it?" My voice was calm, but my grip on my glass tightened. "You were never truly mine to begin with."


    His brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"


    I said nothing. What was the point? He wouldn’t understand. Not yet. Maybe not ever.


    Instead, I picked up my glass of wine—rich, deep red, and expensive—and, with a graceful flick of my wrist, threw its contents at him.


    The entire restaurant gasped.


    The crimson liquid dripped from his hair, soaking into his finely tailored coat, staining the pristine white fabric. His golden eyes widened in stunned disbelief.


    I rose from my seat, brushing past him without a second glance. "The engagement is off. That is final."


    The whispers followed me as I exited. The noble ladies giggled behind their fans. The gentlemen smirked behind their glasses of brandy.


    Good. Let them see.


    Let them remember.


    The moment I returned to my mansion, I called for Draven.


    "Get rid of the remaining staff," I ordered, untying my gloves. "I will hire my own."


    Draven arched a brow. "You don’t trust the ones you inherited with the house?"


    "No," I said simply. "Trust is a luxury I can no longer afford."


    He grinned. "Fair enough. What kind of staff do you want?"


    "Efficient. Loyal. And preferably people with nowhere else to go."


    His grin widened. "Ah. You want people who will rely on you. Who will have no choice but to serve you."


    I met his gaze. "I want people who won’t betray me."


    Draven chuckled. "I know just the place to look."


    Within days, my mansion was filled with new faces.


    A cook who had been dismissed from the royal kitchens for refusing to bow to the queen’s whims. A housekeeper whose previous employer had accused her of theft without proof. A stable boy who had lost his home to a noble’s greed. A maid who had been cast out for a scar that marred her otherwise delicate features.


    They were not perfect, but they were mine. And that was enough.


    I walked through my newly staffed halls, watching them work.


    "Your orders, my lady?" the new head maid asked, bowing her head.


    I let out a slow breath. This was my home now. My rules. My future.


    "We begin anew," I said. "And we let no one in who does not belong."


    My decision sent shockwaves through the capital.


    The duke did not take his rejection well. My parents sent more letters. My brother tried to summon me to the palace. The noblewomen gossiped over afternoon tea, wondering if I had gone mad.


    Let them wonder. Let them whisper.


    I would not look back.


    Not this time.


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