Reborn As A Witch Queen

I died with my husband's wine in my hand.

It tasted sweet. That was the cruel part. Damian poured it himself, and he even smiled at me while I drank. I was twenty three years old. My lips turned cold. The cup fell from my hand and broke on the marble floor.

"Sleep well, Mira," he said. "You were always so quiet. Die quiet too."

Then everything went black.

Now I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was the pink ceiling of my old bedroom.

I did not scream. I did not cry. I just lay there and breathed. In and out.

My hand went to my throat. No poison. No burning. I ran to the mirror. A girl of eighteen looked back at me. Long black hair. Pale face. Big tired eyes.

Then I saw the calendar on my desk. Today had a red circle around it. Awakening Ceremony.

My heart beat fast, but not from fear. I smiled.

"I came back," I whispered.

I remembered everything. Today the whole city of Valen would gather at the temple. Every young witch would touch the crystal and show her power. My stepsister Seraphine would glow bright silver, and everyone would clap. When my turn came, the crystal would stay dark. The priest would say, "This girl has no magic." My father would look at the floor. My stepmother would pretend to cry. That same evening, Lord Damian Hale would offer to take the poor powerless girl as his wife.

That was how my first life began. And how it ended.

I touched my chest. Under my night dress there was a small warm spot over my heart. Back then I thought it was just a birthmark. Now I knew better. It was a seal, placed on me when I was a baby. And the magic it locked away was not small.

I knew it because on the night I died, I felt it for one second. A huge wave of heat rushed through me before my heart stopped.

"Not too late now," I said.

A knock came at the door.

"Miss Mira? I brought your morning tea."

It was Nora, the maid. For five years she had brought me tea every morning. Every morning I drank it, and every morning I felt weak and sleepy. I thought I was just a sickly girl.

She came in with a silver tray. A white cup. Steam rising. The smell was flowers and honey.

"Drink while it is hot, Miss. Madam made it herself today."

Madam. My stepmother, Lady Corinne. Of course she made it herself.

I lifted the cup and smelled it. Under the honey there was something bitter and green. Grey root. Witches use it to keep a seal asleep. Five years I drank this and never knew.

My hands did not shake. I had spent a whole life being afraid, and now I felt only a cold, clear calm.

"Nora," I said gently. "Did you drink today?"

"Me, Miss? No."

"Then drink with me." I held the cup toward her. "It smells so good."

Her smile froze. Just for a second. But I saw it.

"Oh no, Miss, I could never. Madam said only for you."

"Madam said," I repeated. "Yes. She always says."

I stepped closer. She stepped back. "Nora, I know what is in this cup."

The color left her face. The tray shook in her hands. "Miss, I do not know what you mean."

"You do. Your little sister is sick, and Madam pays her medicine bills. That is why you do this. I am not angry with you."

She looked at me like I was a ghost. Maybe I was.

"How do you know about my sister?" she whispered.

In my last life, I only learned the truth three years too late, when Nora cried beside my bed and begged me to forgive her. But I did not say that.

"Drink one sip. If it is only flower tea, you will be fine."

She cried big, heavy tears. "Please, Miss. It will make me sleep for three days."

"Three days," I said. "Not death. Madam is careful. She wants me weak, not dead. Not yet."

Because a dead girl is of no use to her. In my first life, Lady Corinne waited five years, until Damian married me and finished the job. It was a long and patient plan. I almost had to admire it.

Nora fell to her knees. "Forgive me, Miss. She said it was only to keep you calm."

"I forgive you," I said, and I meant it. "But you will help me today."

She nodded again and again.

I poured the tea into the flower pot by the window. Then I looked at the dark mark on my chest in the mirror. It was warmer now. From just one missed cup, it was already waking up.

"Listen carefully," I told Nora. "Go downstairs. Tell Madam I drank it all. Say I look sleepy and sad."

"Yes, Miss."

"And tell her I asked for the old white dress for the ceremony. The plain one."

"But Miss, Seraphine will wear a gold gown."

"Exactly," I said. "Let her shine. Let everyone look at her."

Because the brighter the light, the bigger the shock when it breaks.

Nora left. I sat on the bed and let out a long breath.

Then I heard footsteps in the hallway. Slow and heavy. Not a maid's footsteps. They stopped right in front of my door.

A man's voice spoke, low and cold.

"Mira Calder. Open the door."

I knew that voice. My whole body went still.

It was not my father. It was not Damian. It was a man I had only seen once, far away at my funeral, with rain on his black coat and a white flower in his hand.

King Kael Draven.

He was never supposed to meet me until years from now.

So how did he know I was awake?