There was no blood pooling beneath my fingernails.
There was no jagged shard of dragonblood tearing through my ribcage, burning my flesh to ash from the inside out while Dominic sneered down at me.
I was back.
It was the twentieth year of my life, the exact afternoon the magistrate finalized the dissolution of my parents' marriage and forced a division of their bloodline.
Across the polished wood, Lucien Kowalski tapped his signet ring against the desk.
The heavy gold clinked in rhythmic, impatient strikes.
Beside him sat my half-sister, Katharina.
She wore pale blue muslin, her golden hair woven with fragile white ribbons that made her look like an injured bird.
"The Court of Duty has acknowledged the petition for family severance," the magistrate droned, pushing his round spectacles up his hooked nose.
He shuffled three heavy sheets of imperial vellum stamped with the crest of Vorrath Keep.
"Under the imperial statutes governing human subjects, the daughters of blood must declare their allegiance. Mistress Katharina Kowalski, you have the floor."
Katharina did not hesitate.
Her shoulders gave a delicate, practiced tremor.
Large, crystalline tears welled in her pale blue eyes before spilling over her porcelain cheeks.
She turned toward Lucien, her small hands clutching the rough wool of his officer tunic.
"Father," Katharina whispered, her voice cracking in just the right place.
"I could never leave you. I cannot abandon Dominic and Conrad. The Kowalski barracks are my home. Whatever hardships come, my duty remains with our family's honor."
Her words were soft, yet perfectly pitched to echo off the stone walls of the chamber.
Lucien's hard, weathered jaw relaxed.
A rare flicker of pride softened his cold gray eyes as he patted Katharina's trembling hand.
"Good girl," Lucien said, his tone warmer than anything I had ever received from him in twenty years.
"The Kowalski line protects its own. You will never lack a place at my hearth."
Then his gaze shifted to me, and the warmth vanished as if a shutter had slammed down.
His eyes were flat stones.
"Arlene," Lucien ordered, his fingers drumming once more against the table.
"Make your mark. Do not waste the magistrate's time with your usual sullen silence."
I looked at Katharina.
Beneath the wet sheen of her lashes, a sliver of triumphant venom gleamed.
She knew how desperate I had been in my past life to earn even a scrap of Lucien's approval.
In that life, I had bowed my head, begged to stay, and spent years breaking my bones in the military academy just to give Dominic the strategic glory that bought his captaincy.
My reward had been an execution in the snow.
I did not lower my head.
I leaned back in the high-backed wooden chair, letting my hands rest loosely in my lap.
"I choose my mother," I said.
The words fell into the quiet room like a heavy stone into still water.
The magistrate paused, his quill hovering above the inkwell.
Lucien's tapping finger froze against the wood.
His eyebrows pulled together in disbelief.
"What did you just say?"
"My hearing is fine, Father, and so is yours," I replied, keeping my voice flat and even.
"Under imperial law, I am of age to select my guardian house upon parental separation. I choose Lady Elena Sanchez. I will take up residence with House Beaumont."
Katharina gasped, her mouth dropping open.
Her carefully orchestrated sorrow vanished, replaced by sheer shock.
This was not in her script.
She had planned to watch me beg, to watch Lucien treat me like a burden, and to isolate me under the Kowalski roof until she could steal Julian Montgomery from my side.
"Sanchez," the magistrate cleared his throat, peering over his papers with renewed interest.
"You are fully aware that selecting Lady Elena forfeits your claim to any Kowalski military pension, inheritance, or dowry assistance?"
"I am entirely aware," I said.
"Record it."
Lucien slammed both fists onto the table, rattling the heavy brass inkpots.
"Have you lost your mind!" he roared, veins bulging along his neck.
"You turn your back on your father for that traitorous woman? She abandoned you to marry into Beaumont wealth! You will be nothing more than a stray dog in their estate!"
I met his furious glare without blinking.
"A stray dog eats better than a pack mule worked to death, Father. The law gives me this right. You have no authority to overrule it."
I turned my back on him entirely, facing the sharply dressed woman sitting at the far end of the table.
She wore a gray tailored coat bearing the silver falcon crest of House Beaumont.
Elena's legal representative had been silent until now, her expression guarded.
"Is the transfer ready, Advocate?" I asked.
A sharp gleam of satisfaction ignited in the advocate's eyes.
She pulled a leather-bound folder toward her and dipped a fresh nib in red wax.
"Everything is prepared, Lady Arlene. We need only your signature to finalize your wardship under House Beaumont."
I took the quill from her hand, scratched my name across the rough vellum, and set the feather down.
Behind me, Katharina stood up so fast her chair scraped against the stone.
She rushed around the table, grabbing my wrist with cold, tight fingers.
"Arlene, stop this!" she hissed under her breath, her face contorted in frantic fury.
"Without the Kowalski name, Julian will never look at you! You will be an outcast! What are you doing?"
I peeled her fingers off my wrist one by one, squeezing her thumb back just far enough to make her wince.
"I am letting you keep the scraps, Katharina," I whispered directly into her ear.
"Take the Kowalskis. Take the barracks. Let us see how warm they keep you when the winter comes."
I stepped past her without looking back.
"Get out!" Lucien screamed behind me, his voice echoing through the corridor.
"You are no daughter of mine! Don't you dare come crawling back when they throw you to the street!"
The heavy oak doors of the chamber clicked shut behind me, cutting his voice in half.
The advocate walked briskly beside me, leading the way toward the grand archway of the Court of Duty.
Outside, the cold mountain air of Vorrath Keep hit my lungs, clean and biting.
The dark basalt spires of the city stretched toward a slate-gray sky.
The advocate handed me a travel pass bound in red cord.
"The carriage is waiting at the south gate, Lady Arlene," she said quietly.
"Your mother has counted every day until this moment."
I took the pass and held it tight.
Footsteps clattered against the cobblestones behind us.
I paused, glancing over my shoulder.
Katharina stood beneath the shadow of the stone portico, her delicate blue skirts clutched in her fists.
Her tear-stained facade was gone, replaced by pure, naked malice.
Her lips moved, mouthing the words through the icy wind.
"You will regret this."
I did not answer.
I turned my back to her and stepped into the open street.
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