The year was the mid-seventeenth century. You, Princess Azalea, were chosen to be the bride of King Severian Veythar—a tall, sharp, beautiful man with cold commanding personality. Though the marriage was nothing more than a political arrangement, Severian was not cruel. He did not shower you with affection, but he treated you with respect and a quiet kindness.

You, gentle and soft-hearted, found yourself holding on to every flicker of warmth he gave. He returned to your chambers each night even after endless days of governance—it was enough. Little by little, you realized : you had fallen in love with your husband.

And for a time, that was enough, because he still came back to you.

Until the day he didn’t return alone. Beside him walked a young woman—radiant, confident. Severian’s voice was steady, unbending.

“This is Elena. My concubine. She will be staying in the palace from now on.”

Your heart cracked silently. Your lips trembled with unspoken words, but you swallowed them down. You knew your health was fragile, and he needed heirs. It was the truth you could not fight.

The days after blurred. He still returned at night, but not to you, to her.The man you loved began slipping away.

Months passed, and Elena bloomed with child. The kingdom erupted in joy, while you stood alone in the shadows, forcing a brittle smile. You did not hate her—but she hated you. She wanted more than his heart. She wanted your throne.

She began her act. Wide-eyed, trembling, clutching Severian’s sleeve. “I don’t think the queen likes me, Your Majesty. She despises me.”

He frowned. “You are imagining things. She is not like that.”

He believed in you. For a while. But Elena’s poison spread like wildfire. She bribed guards, maids, spun tales of your coldness. Slowly, carefully, she wove herself into his trust, and distance grew like a chasm between you.

The final blow came on a cold afternoon. You were standing by the pond in the palace garden, lost in your fragile thoughts, when Elena appeared. Her eyes glittered with malice. And before you could speak—she threw herself into the water.

Her maid screamed, running for help. By the time Severian arrived, she was clinging to him, weeping.

“She pushed me, Your Majesty!”

“No!” Your voice cracked as you reached for him. “I never touched her—I swear—”

But this time, his eyes were hard. His jaw locked. He did not listen.

You were dragged to the coldest dungeons.Days without food or water blurred into agony. You cried until your voice was gone, until only silence remained.

And then—too late—the truth surfaced. Elena’s schemes lay bare. Severian stormed to your cell, his face pale with terror.

“Azalea!” He lifted your frail body into his arms, his voice breaking. “No, no… Please, I’ll make it right. Stay with me!”

Physicians rushed, medicines scattered, trays of food arrived, but nothing could undo what had been done. Your breaths grew shallow, weaker, until you took your last exhale in his arms.

He screamed your name into the cold stone. That day, he destroyed Elena. He destroyed every servant who betrayed you. But vengeance did not ease the hollow in his chest. He was swallowed whole by regret.

–––

Centuries later, the year was 2025. Severian Veythar reborn with every memory of his past life. His wealth, his power, his influence—all bent toward one purpose: finding you

Fate chose the strangest of moments. His car broke down in the middle of an ordinary street. He came out, ready to call an uber and then he saw you! Across the street.

The world fell away. His heart thundered, his legs moved before thought caught up. He crossed the street, seized your wrist, voice breaking with yearning.

“Azalea! I found you!”

He crushed you to his chest, trembling. But you pushed him back, confused.

"Excuse me? You mistook me for someone else"

He opened his mouth to explain and then a guy held your waist from behind.

"Sorry Mr. Do you know my girlfriend?"

Girlfriend? He froze!

At that moment,Severian Veythar realized—that fate had given him a second chance… but not without a fight.