Stay Dead This Time

"Mother, let me remind you. I am the mistress of this estate. With Stellan gone, my word is law here."

I turned to the servants standing outside the chapel. "Well? Escort the young lady to the crypt."

The servants exchanged uneasy glances, none of them daring to move.

I swept a cool look over them. "Think carefully about who the future master of this estate will be."

They did not know Stellan's death was staged. All they knew was that Ansel, his only son and the sole heir to everything, was in my arms.

A moment later, a crowd of them rushed forward, seized Daphne, gagged her, bound her hands, and dragged her out. The whole thing was over in seconds. Vivienne did not even have time to react.

When she finally processed what she was seeing, she pointed a trembling finger at me.

"You... Elara, just you wait. My son's spirit will not let you get away with this!"

I ignored her and instructed the servants to escort the old woman to her chambers to rest.

I knew perfectly well what she really meant. In seven days, the death-feigning potion would wear off and Stellan would come back to life. When that happened, he would not let me get away with it.

However, that was fine. I was not going to give him the chance.

In this life, Stellan Montclair was going to stay exactly what he was—a dead man in a crypt.

"Mother."

Ansel tilted his head up to look at me, reaching out with a small hand to tug at my sleeve.

I crouched down and looked at his little face. His chin had sharpened to a point from how thin he had grown, and something inside my chest tightened.

In my previous life, Vivienne insisted that with his father suffering on the front lines, no son of the household had any right to comfort. She slashed Ansel's food, clothing, and every allowance meant for him.

Even when his birthday came around, I was scolded for spoiling him just for making him a birthday cake.

I had gone to Stellan and begged him to intervene. His answer had been simple. "Mother is right. If people found out the general's son was living in luxury, I'd be skewered for it."

That day, they sent servants to take Ansel from me by force. I cried until I had no tears left, and it made no difference.

However, things were different now. Stellan would remain in his death-like state for seven days. I had more than enough ways to make sure he never woke up.

"Prepare the carriage."

I was going home to the Renworth household.

The carriage had barely come to a stop when I spotted my brother, Everett Renworth, hurrying out through the front gate. The sight of him, whole and unharmed, rooted me in place.

The memories hit me all at once.

In my previous life, Everett learned what I had suffered at the Montclair estate and went to confront Stellan in a fury. He believed his standing as the kingdom's top-ranked scholar, personally commended by the crown, and the weight of the Renworth name would be enough to give Stellan pause.

He could not have known that Stellan was already so besotted with Daphne that nothing else mattered. To bury the scandal of elevating his mistress and destroying his wife, Stellan ordered his men to ambush Everett on the road. They killed him and left his body in the hills like an animal.

Everett endured over ten years of grueling study. He was first in the royal examinations, hand-picked by the king himself.

He was a mind brimming with promise, and he had a future without limits. Yet, he was dead before he turned 30.

Meanwhile, I was trapped in that forgotten cottage on the estate grounds. They would not even let me retrieve his body.

I was still lost in the anguish of that other life when Everett reached me.

"Elara?" He frowned slightly, concern threading through his gaze. "I heard about everything. Stellan... Are you..."

He was probably going to tell me to grieve well, to not be too hard on myself.

"Everett..." I shook my head and cut him off. "There's no one in this world who wants him dead more than I do."

Everett went still.