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Reborn to Rewrite the Throne

Betrayed by Prince Ethan after securing his throne with Northern gold, Hazel dies as her homeland burns. Miraculously reborn to the day of her betrothal, the legitimate daughter of the North refuses to repeat her tragic past. Instead of crowning her murderer, she chooses the third son, Alexander, as her husband. In this gripping romance and adventure story, Hazel must navigate court intrigue and shifting alliances to protect her people and ensure her enemies face total ruin.
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Chapter 2

Ava Miller’s father was nothing more than a junior royal clerk attached to the King’s archives, a respectable position but far beneath the rank required for his daughter to stand in the Great Hall on a day such as this;

Her presence was tolerated for one reason alone—the favor of the Crown Prince.

The moment Ethan spoke, the chamber erupted in murmurs.

Ava lowered her eyes, color blooming delicately in her cheeks as though modesty itself had chosen her as its vessel.

She stepped forward and sank gracefully to her knees.

“Your Majesty,” she said, her voice trembling but clear, “His Highness honors me beyond my worth. I love him sincerely. If I may remain at his side, I ask for nothing more—not title, not rank, only the privilege of being near him.”

Ethan turned toward her and took her hand without hesitation, lifting his chin as he faced the throne.

“Father, I will not see Ava diminished. I love her, and I will take no other wife. If I marry, it will be her and her alone.”

A heavy silence fell.

“Ethan,” the King said slowly, disappointment hardening his voice, “do you understand the weight of what you are saying?”

The Queen’s gaze moved to Ava, cool and unamused. The daughter of a minor clerk aspiring to become the lawful wife of the heir apparent bordered on absurdity.

The King looked between his son and me before speaking with deliberate restraint.

“Today is Hazel’s choosing,” he said coldly. “As for whatever… understanding you believe you have formed, it may be discussed another day. ”

Ethan rose to his feet, defiance blazing across his features.

“I will not marry Hazel. I regard her as a sister and nothing more. If she insists upon such a union, then let the court hear me clearly—I would never share my bed with her. My heirs will be born of Ava alone.”

He did not stop there. His gaze shifted toward me, not uncertain.

“As for Hazel,” he continued coolly, “she may remain within my household, should she choose to. A Royal Mistress, perhaps. It would suit her better than a crown she cannot truly claim.”Gasps rippled across the hall.

The King surged upright, fury unmistakable.

I stepped forward before his anger could ignite the chamber further.

“Your Majesty,” I said evenly, “there is no cause for unrest.”

Without hesitation, I placed the golden circlet into Alexander’s hands.

He blinked, amusement still lingering in his expression before it shifted into something far more serious as I entwined my fingers with his.

“I have made my choice,” I said calmly. “I will marry Prince Alexander.”

For a heartbeat, Ethan stared at us in stunned silence.

Then relief flooded his face, and he drew Ava protectively to his side.

“You see,” he murmured to her, loud enough for all to hear, “no one stands between us now. I told you I would marry only you.”

The King and Queen exchanged a look heavy with regret.

“Ethan,” the Queen asked quietly, “are you certain? No decree has been signed. There is still time.”

“I am certain,” he replied without hesitation. “I will marry Ava.”

Later, as I departed the palace, I encountered them beneath the archway of the outer gate where Ethan had escorted Ava to her carriage.

He regarded me with open contempt.

“I told you long ago I would never marry you. At least today you spared yourself humiliation.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice as though offering charity.

“If you regret this, once Ava and I are wed, I might persuade my mother to grant you a place within my household. You would have a title, of course, though not a wife’s rights. I have given Ava my word—she alone will bear my children.”

Ava leaned against him, her cheeks flushed.

“Your Highness, please,” she murmured softly, though she did not withdraw her hand from his.

Then she looked at me with careful timidity.

“Hazel, I never wished to wound you. I only wanted to choose for myself once in my life. You do not resent me, do you?”

Ethan drew her closer.

“Do not trouble yourself. No one will dare oppose you while I stand beside you. One day you will be Queen, and all—including Hazel—will bow before you.”