The ducal carriage rumbled slowly along the cobblestone road, horseshoes clicking crisply in the night breeze. I sank into the soft cushion, gazing through the window at scenery both familiar and strange. Moonlight spilled onto ancient stone walls, casting long shadows—much like the indelible memories etched in my heart.

This road—I'd walked it countless times. In my previous life, I always returned home from the palace bubbling with anticipation, eager to share court gossip with my father. Back then, I still believed in fairy tales, in perfect endings for princes and princesses.


That innocent girl died forever on the guillotine.

"Miss, are you alright?" Handmaiden Mary's concerned voice broke through my thoughts. This loyal girl had served me since I was twelve, her eyes now filled with confusion and care.

"I'm fine, Mary," I answered softly, my voice surprisingly calm even to my own ears.


Mary hesitated, but ultimately held her tongue. Being clever, she had probably sensed something was off, but dared not probe further. Just as well—some burdens are destined to be borne alone.

The carriage finally halted before the gates of Ethelgard Duchy. The mansion, with its three hundred years of history, stood solemn and dignified under the moonlight. The family crest—a golden eagle with outstretched wings, symbolizing power and dignity—gleamed on the tall iron gates.


I once took pride in bearing this surname, but now I knew that bloodlines and status were nothing but hollow ornaments. The only true protection came from absolute power.

"Eliana."

Father's voice echoed from the great hall. Duke August von Ethelgard stood by the staircase, his tall figure casting a long shadow in the candlelight. Though over fifty, this former war hero still maintained an upright posture and razor-sharp gaze.

"Father." I bowed to him, my movement precise and elegant.

His gray-blue eyes examined me carefully, searching for signs of something amiss. As an old general who had witnessed the carnage of countless battlefields, his intuition had always been unnervingly keen.

"The banquet ended so early?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of suspicion.

"Yes, because there are more important matters to attend to." I met his gaze directly. "Father, I need to speak with you."

He nodded and turned toward his study. I followed, our footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. The ancient mansion breathed with the weight of history—portraits of generations of Ethelgards hung on the walls, their solemn gazes following our every move.

In the study, orange flames danced in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Father sank into his usual armchair and gestured for me to sit. I remained standing—what I was about to say required resolve.

"Father, my engagement to Prince Theo has been terminated."

Silence. A long, heavy silence.

Father's fingers drummed lightly on the armrest—his habitual gesture when deep in thought. Firelight played across his face, masking his true expression.

"Was it your initiative?" he finally asked.

"The prince proposed to annul the engagement, but I gladly accepted." My voice remained steady and clear. "Not only that, I've applied to His Majesty to renounce my family inheritance rights. I plan to enter the Royal Academy of Magic."

This time, father's eyebrows shot up. He scrutinized me as if seeing a stranger wearing his daughter's face.

"Eliana," he began slowly, "do you understand what you're saying? What it means to give up your inheritance rights? What entering the magic academy entails?"

"Of course I do." I walked to his desk and picked up a copy of "Advanced Theory of Illusion" lying there. "Father, remember when I secretly read this book at thirteen?"

He nodded. Three years ago, driven by curiosity, I'd browsed through father's collection and been caught red-handed. He'd dismissed it then, saying girls had no business learning such complex magic.

"When you asked which theory interested me most, I said 'Elemental Resonance.'" I turned to the corresponding page. "But what truly fascinated me was the 'Chronomancy Weaving' theory in chapter seven. I lied because I knew you'd never allow a future princess to delve into such dangerous magic."

Father's gaze sharpened to a knife's edge.

"Now, let me tell you what I really think." I closed the book with a snap and met his eyes. "Traditional elemental magic has obvious limitations. The classic four elements—fire, water, wind, and earth—can't meet modern warfare needs. But 'Star Dust Weaving'—transforming stellar power into controllable magic threads—offers not just tremendous destructive potential, but nearly unlimited plasticity."

I strode to the bookshelf and precisely pulled out several other volumes.

"Chapter 12 of 'Analysis of Ancient Arcane Languages' mentions the lost Astral Incantation. 'Imperial War History' records how a legendary mage three centuries ago defeated thousands of soldiers single-handedly using stardust magic. And 'Magical Structure Studies' provides detailed analysis of stardust lines' physical properties." I arranged these books neatly on the table. "Father, this isn't a momentary impulse—I have a complete study plan."

Father rose and approached me. Standing a head taller, those battlefield-hardened eyes studied me intently.

"You've changed, Eliana," he said softly. "Since returning tonight, you're no longer the child you once were."

My heartbeat quickened. Had he noticed something?

"People grow up, Father," I said, fighting to remain calm. "Tonight's events have opened my eyes to many things."

He reached out and gently stroked my hair, just as he did when I was small. This simple gesture instantly brought tears to my eyes. Whether in my past life or this one, my father's love remained the one constant.

"My little eagle," he said, using my childhood nickname, "if this is the path you choose, I support you. But remember, the doors of House Ethelgard will always remain open for you."

"Thank you, Father." My voice trembled slightly but remained filled with determination.

He nodded and returned to his chair. "I'll arrange matters with the magic academy tomorrow. However, you'll need to pass the entrance examination. With your current level of magic…"

"Don't worry," I cut in, "I'll prove myself worthy of the Ethelgard name."

After leaving the study, I went straight to my bedroom. This room, my sanctuary since childhood, was filled with girlish touches—pink curtains, an exquisite dressing table, adorable plush toys on the bed. Now it all seemed painfully childish.

I sat at my desk and lit the candelabra. The bright flames banished both the room's shadows and the last traces of doubt from my heart.

Now it was time to organize the memories of my previous life.

I closed my eyes and began constructing a "memory palace"—an ancient technique that stores information by building a virtual structure in one's mind. In my previous life, I'd mastered this method before death, but had no chance to fully utilize it before I…

No. Don't think about that anymore. Focus on the present.

In my consciousness, a massive library took form. Towering bookshelves extended row by row into an invisible distance, each book representing knowledge I'd once acquired. I carefully arranged the learning achievements of my previous nineteen years, categorized methodically.

Political Science, first floor western shelves, blue covers.
Economic Theory, first floor central area, green covers.
History, second floor eastern shelves, brown covers.
Linguistics, second floor western shelves, white covers.
Magic Theory, third floor, golden covers.

This last category was most crucial. Though I hadn't deeply studied magic in my previous life, basic magical education was essential for a duke's daughter and future royal consort. More importantly, I'd audited courses at the Royal Academy and read numerous Forbidden Grimoires.

Now, all this knowledge would become the cornerstone of my rise.

I opened my eyes, grabbed my quill and began to write. A detailed study plan quickly materialized on the parchment:

《Basic Magic Reconstruction》- Relearn fundamental theories with an adult's understanding, correcting childish misconceptions.

《Introduction to Stardust Weaving》- From theory to practice, mastering this lost ancient magic.

《Tactical Application Research》- Combining stardust magic with combat techniques to develop my unique fighting style.

《Forbidden Grimoire Study》- Within those sealed texts might lie the power to change fate itself.

Just as I was writing intently, sudden noises erupted from outside. I set down my quill and moved to the window.

A crowd had gathered outside the manor gates, brandishing torches and shouting excitedly. Though some distance away, their words reached me clearly:

"Wicked woman!"
"Harlot abandoned by the prince!"
"Shame of the Ethelgard family!"

News spread faster than I'd imagined. What happened at the banquet had already raced through the entire capital, with me undoubtedly cast as the villain of this little drama.

I let out a cold laugh. My previous life had long accustomed me to such treatment. Ironically, I hadn't even done anything "evil" yet—merely refusing to follow their expected script of tears and despair was enough to earn me the label of "villainess."

Early the next morning, when Mary entered with breakfast, her expression was deeply troubled.

"Miss, the crowd outside has dispersed, but…" she hesitated, her words trailing off.

"But what?" I asked, calmly savoring a piece of bread.

"But your friends…" Mary placed a stack of letters on the table. "These all arrived this morning."

I casually picked up one letter and broke the seal.

"Dear Eliana, although our years of friendship make this decision difficult, I believe we need to maintain some distance between us. Your behavior has brought a negative influence to our social circle, and I cannot allow my family to be implicated. I hope you understand. —Your former friend, Sophia"

I opened several other letters—all with similar content. Those "friends" who once surrounded me, flattered me, and benefited from the Ethelgard family's status now couldn't distance themselves fast enough.

Interestingly, in my previous life, I would have cried facing such rejection. Now I found it merely amusing.

"Miss, aren't you upset?" Mary asked cautiously.

"Why should I be upset?" I tossed the letters aside. "Losing fake friends is a blessing in disguise."

Mary studied me, her eyes filled with concern. She probably thought I was just putting on a brave face.

But in truth, I'd never felt so liberated. Those false friendships, those relationships based on mutual benefit, those exhausting social activities requiring constant maintenance of a perfect image—I could finally be free of it all.

Now I could focus on what truly mattered.

After nightfall, I changed into simple training clothes and slipped quietly to the training ground in the manor's back courtyard. Usually filled with knights practicing swordsmanship, it now stood vast and silent under the moonlight.

I took position at the center and began recalling the basic magic from my previous life. Deep breath. Feel the flow of magical power. Extend consciousness to fingertips—

"Arrow of Light."

A thin beam of light shot from my fingertip, striking the bullseye of a straw target twenty meters away. Not powerful, but perfectly precise.

A sixteen-year-old body with the mind and skills of a nineteen-year-old. The feeling was strange—like an experienced swordsman suddenly wielding an unfamiliar blade. Adaptation was needed, but the basic muscle memory remained.

I continued practicing various basic spells. Fireball. Ice spike. Wind blade. Earth wall. Each executed cleanly and precisely, without wasting a drop of magical power.

But this was far from enough. Basic magic couldn't play a decisive role in real combat. I needed stronger power. I needed to master "Stardust Weaving."

After practice, I collapsed onto a stone bench at the edge of the training ground and poured a cup of red tea from my thermos. A bitter brew I'd specially prepared—almost too harsh to swallow. Exactly the effect I wanted.

The bitter taste reminded me of reality's cruelty. It reminded me that I couldn't afford a moment of weakness or naive fantasy. This world had no fairy tales—only the strong and the weak, only survival and death.

I looked up at the starry sky. Those distant stars twinkled in the night like scattered diamonds on black velvet. Legend said the power of stars could be woven into the most powerful magical threads—capable of cutting through anything, and protecting everything.

In my previous life, I died on the guillotine. That cold metal sensation still jolts me from nightmares. But this time, I swore I would never experience such fear again.

I would become strong—so strong that no one could harm me.

I would obtain true freedom, no longer a puppet dancing to someone else's tune.

I would use my own hands to rewrite this unfair destiny.

The moon sank in the west as the training ground returned to silence. I clutched that cup of bitter tea, making a vow that welled up from the depths of my soul under the watchful stars.

This time, the story of Eliana von Ethelgard would be written by me alone.