That night,
Duskbane Estate.
Rina's POV
The air inside the Western Wing felt warmer now, thick with the faint, comforting scent of burning sage. The butler had lit the protective wards, and the storm that had moved on from the cemetery left the world outside washed clean, smelling of wet earth and stone.
When I first stepped into Lumira's room, my jaw almost dropped. It wasn't just a bedroom; it was a sanctuary carved from silence and old magic, a place that seemed to breathe between worlds. Moonlight slanted through tall arched windows draped in silver-threaded curtains, casting slow-moving shadows across the polished marble. The ivory four-poster bed was an actual throne: its towering frame etched with gold filigree and vine motifs, like curling, metallic branches. The canopy was sheer velvet, tinted a crystal purple that caught the lamplight like spilled ink.
I was slumped against the velvet headboard, every bone in this corpse-body aching with a heaviness that felt deeper than mere fatigue. My limbs were lead. My breath was uneven. My skin was still clammy from the effort of clawing myself back to the land of the living. The sheets beneath me shimmered faintly, with runes for recovery woven discreetly into the threads by long-dead estate healers. I was told not to use magic for forty-eight hours, but the thought of summoning a single spark was laughable.
If not for the girl bustling about my bedside, I wouldn't have managed to lift my head.
Seraphina Dove Angelis, Sera, as everyone called her, was perched on a stool beside the bed. Her soft golden curls glowed faintly in the lamplight as she hummed, something sweet and tuneless, carefully dabbing water from my freshly washed, long silver hair. Each motion was gentle, meticulous, as though she feared breaking me with a single wrong stroke.
"You don't have to fuss so much," I murmured, my voice low, and raw from exhaustion.
"Yes, I do," Sera replied, her voice surprising me with its quiet strength.
"You scared me half to death today. Everyone else was looking at you like… like you were something cursed, but I know better. You came back, and that means something. Besides, you deserve to be taken care of, after all you've done for me." She wrung out the towel, her round cheeks flushed from the effort.
I closed my eyes, letting myself lean into her care, as ripples of genuine gratitude pulsed within me.
Rina Vale, the ordinary human fangirl, was gone. I am now Lumira Duskbane, the villainess written to perish in disgrace. Yet as my hair was gently blotted dry, as soft hands worked through the tangles with patient devotion, I felt something rare and precious: I was being cherished.
I remembered from the novel that the original Lumira was ruthless and cruel, the perfect foil to the heroine Selena: sharp where Selena was soft, cold where Selena was kind. Yet there was always one strange exception, Lumira tolerated no rivals, accepted no challengers - but she had cared and fiercely protected those who were weak, downtrodden, or mocked in Hauntspire High. And none had been more mocked than Seraphina Dove, the chubby little angel always targeted by Selena's glittering circle.
In the book, Lumira had made Sera her underling. She stood between Sera and the cruel taunts, wielding her venomous tongue like a blade to shred anyone who dared to laugh at Sera's plumpness or shy stammer. She tutored the girl relentlessly, never abandoning her, and because of Lumira's patronage, Seraphina managed to graduate at all.
Now, in this second life, it was Sera who was protecting me.
"Everything changed after you died," Sera began softly, as if reading my thoughts. Her hands stilled in my hair, then resumed with renewed care. "Do you… do you want me to tell you what happened?"
"Tell me everything," I commanded, cracking one eye open. My curiosity, Rina's innate need for plot knowledge, was piqued.
Sera nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. "After your death, the people you thought were your friends… they didn't even wait for the soil to settle over your coffin. Ivy Thornfield led them straight to your chambers to strip it bare. They took all your jewelry, your accessories, your gowns. All of it... even the little lycan trinkets you loved." Her hands trembled. "And then they joined Selena's faction. Just like that... they didn't even mourn you."
I didn't flinch, not just because I had read the book. I knew the slow erosion of Lumira's power, the way her allies bled from her side until only her enemies remained. Still, hearing it from Sera's mouth, watching the genuine anguish darken the girl's wide blue eyes, gave the betrayal a sting even my foreknowledge could not dull.
"You're… not surprised?" Sera seemed startled by my calm.
"I saw it coming," I said quietly. "People like Ivy Thornfield don't know how to stand on their own. They only cling to whatever light shines the brightest."
Sera blinked at me, her eyes widening as if she were seeing the real me for the first time, before she slowly nodded. "I suppose you're right. Still, it hurt to watch."
She hesitated before continuing, her voice dropping lower, thick with resentment. "And it wasn't just them. Your distant relatives pressured the Council to announce that the Ritual of Succession would be done a day after your burial, to determine the new Witch Queen of the West. They thought your line had ended. Those pompous, greedy pigs tried to strip the estate bare. If it hadn't been for your grandma, the butler, and the head maid, they would have emptied the whole treasury too."
My jaw tightened as I subconsciously cursed those vultures. I pictured the scene: the cousins, the secondary lines, circling the corpse, desperate to snatch a piece of the Duskbane legacy.
"Few others sincerely offered condolences," Sera went on. "Mason, of course, and a handful of others, but not many." She bit her lip. "I could give you the names if you wanted."
"Yes," I confirmed, filing the thought away.
A list of who stood by me and who didn't will be useful. The butler will have kept the record.
As Sera finished drying my hair, she set the towel aside with exaggerated care, handling it as if it were something sacred. I turned my head, catching her gaze.
"Thank you, Sera. Truly."
"Y-you don't have to thank me!" The little angel's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing bright pink. "I'm just—just doing what anyone would do!"
"Not everyone would," I replied softly. The truth felt like a heavy stone in my mouth, but it wasn't a lie. "But you did... and that makes you my best friend."
Sera's breath caught due to shock. For a moment she sat frozen, her round face crumpling into something radiant. Then she let out a small, squeaky laugh, clapping her hands together before smothering the sound with the towel. She beamed so brightly that I almost forgot my exhaustion.
To Sera, the villainess she had worshiped as a distant, untouchable goddess had just acknowledged her as an equal. And that joy, raw and honest, filled the room with warmth brighter than the lamplight. For now I had an ally... and tomorrow, I had a death sentence to face.