SOPHIA
Reborn.
I’d gone back to the beginning of my marriage.
Three years erased.
The last Hunter’s Ball I had attended was ... what? Three months? Yes. Three months after I married Jace Willowmarch.
Jace hadn’t attended, which is probably why everyone ignored , or worse, made fun of . It had been a very embarrassing evening, mostly due to Penelope’s nastiness.
I had never gone to another Hunter’s Ball.
In my past life, Jace rarely went with to social engagents, considering that part of my wifely duties.
Apparently getting to be a brigadier general’s wife and having access to our full coffers was enough compensation for my work as a spouse, an estate manager, an accountant, a party planner, an elder caretaker, and---a personal bonus---social pariah.
Whenever my husband deigned to return ho, he was cold and indifferent. To . Penelope got a different version of him.
I wouldn’t live that way again. Walking on eggshells and shrinking myself into the smallest possible space so that I wouldn’t trouble my own husband.
All while his white moonlight made my life a living hell.
Perhaps, if he hadn’t been my first crush, if I hadn’t loved him so desperately, things might’ve turned out differently for .
These were the thoughts that crowded into my mind as Daisy and I hurried through the manor to the uppermost floor.
"How long until the Hunter’s Ball?" I asked.
"About four hours," she said. "It’s really not enough ti to start over on your preparation, ma’am."
"Hah! Who cares about being late? It’s not like Jace will be there. And even if he was, he would spend the evening ignoring . Nobility is well aware that he doesn’t like and everyone treats accordingly."
"It’s all Penelope’s fault. She had her lackeys knock you on the head and drag you into the storage building."
"Yes, well, we’ve established that she’s horrible."
She’d tried the sa thing in the last life, but Daisy had found then, too. I’d gone to the ball anyway and fell right into the trap Penelope set for .
Perhaps I shouldn’t go to the Hunter’s Ball.
I paused in the middle of the third staircase, and considered this possibility.
For about three seconds.
No. I didn’t want to avoid life and play it safe. I had foreknowledge now.
I would change my fate.
And I would start by making the Hunter’s Ball my bitch.
By the ti we made it into the suite, I was nearly breathless. "Whose idea was it to put the master suite at the very top floor of this manor?"
"Probably the first Willowarch patriarch," said Daisy.
"I guarantee you that not a single Willowmarch wife liked climbing those stairs. Husbands are the worst."
The master suite had a huge sleeping area, a bathroom, separate walk-in closets and dressings rooms, and an huge stone fireplace with a seating area.
Daisy tugged on my arm. "Your dress is torn and your hair’s a ss. You need a new wig."
"The hell I do," I muttered.
In my second-chance life, I refused to spend it trying to impress people who didn’t care a whit about .
Not a single person in my first life could be convinced I was worthy of their attention. Not my parents. Not Jace. Not society at large.
Part of that was my fault for letting my insecurities push into bad decisions, and the other part was Penelope’s dirty tricks and green-tea antics.
From now on, I would stop chasing my husband, stop wanting acceptance, stop hoping for love. If wronged, I would take revenge on the spot. In fact, I would live life a lot more boldly.
And I would divorce Jace. As soon as possible.
Life was too short to live in such a hopeless marriage. I wanted a relationship where my husband and I loved each other whole-heartedly. If I couldn’t have that, then it was better not to marry at all.
Let Jace have his precious Penelope. I wouldn’t stand between them anymore.
"Help out of this dress." It took way longer than necessary to remove the corset and the skirt, and the effort left sweaty and panting. "I need a bath."
"But the ti..."
"I don’t care, Daisy. A bath."
While she filled the tub, I wrestled off the wig and unpinned my long, brown hair. So long it fell to my waist. I must’ve washed it recently because it looked silky and soft. However, it needed a good brushing. I put the wig on a shelf with the rest of my elaborate hair pieces. Without the wig and its jewelry, my head felt much lighter and less pained.
"Your bath is ready."
"Thank you, Daisy. I need you to find dresses that don’t require corsets. And don’t choose anything with a full skirt. Think elegant and simple."
Daisy frowned. "I don’t know if you own such garnts."
"Do your best."
I pinned my hair to keep it from getting wet and then discarded my underclothing.
The hot bath felt wonderful.
While I scrubbed my skin in the rose-scented water, Daisy dug through my clothing in search of a dress that wouldn’t cut off my ability to walk and to breathe.
I finished bathing, dried off, and put on a fresh silk camisole and underwear
Then I entered the dressing room.
Daisy showed three dresses. The first was a sickly yellow. It looked more like a nightgown than a frock I should wear in polite society.
"Pass," I said.
The next was plain blue. Was it a bed sheet or a party gown? "Are you sure this is clothing?"
"I think so," said Daisy. "It was hanging up in the very back."
"Well, that’s a big fat no."
The third dress was dark purple with delicate white flowers embroidered on the gently flared skirt. The cinched waist had a band of white silk sewn with small purple gems.
"Where did I get this?" I asked as I felt the smooth, silky fabric.
"It was a wedding gift sent to you from Duke Stonehart."
I stared at her, confused.
"The duke is distantly related to your husband. Fourth cousins, or sothing. Apparently, the Duke was sent to the Western Realm on a peacekeeping mission. He sent your wedding gift from there."
"How do you know these things, Daisy?"
"I have my sources." She pointed to the dress. "I think there was jewelry, too."
"Where is it? Let take a look."
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