THE CURSED QUEEN’S CONSORT

 Isabella's POV

 I didn't sleep. Again.

 The trial card hadn't disappeared like the god. It burned cold in my hand until dawn, pulsing with an energy that didn't feel foreign but familiar. Like something I once knew how to wield. The castle was quiet, as if it, too, was waiting to see who I would choose to kill. I found the hall empty, save for one figure tied to a post, bloodied but breathing.

 Her.

Red hair. Pale skin. Eyes like wildfire.

 "Mirielle," I whispered. She lifted her head slowly, a broken smile cracking across her mouth. "So… you remember me." My knees nearly buckled. Because yes, I remembered. I remembered trusting her. Loving her. Sharing secrets in the dark and I remembered the blade she shoved through my ribs when I tried to flee the burning chapel.

 "You were my sister in all but blood," I said. "Why?" "Because they offered me more than loyalty ever did," she croaked. "And you, little queen, were always meant to die."

A door creaked behind me. Dominic entered, his expression unreadable. "She's the one," I said. "She betrayed me." He nodded. "And now you know who the card meant." I clenched my jaw. "But it's not that simple." Because I also remembered him. Not Dominic but the boy he once was. The one who found me bleeding in the forest after Mirielle left me for dead. The one who carried me to safety and the one who gave me to the gods when all else failed.

 "You're the traitor who saved me," I said quietly. He didn't flinch. "I never hid it." "I was meant to die." "And I refused."

 The room was a powder keg and I was the match. But the choice wasn't life or death. It was past or present. Punish who I was? Or protect who I am? The card pulsed once more. Its magic tugged at my chest, waiting. Then, without a word, I walked to Mirielle and unshackled her chains.

Dominic's hand moved toward his sword, but I shook my head. "She already paid," I said. "She lives with the rot of her betrayal. Let that be enough." "And me?" he asked. I turned to him. "You saved me, even if it wasn't fair. I won't punish you for love." The card crumbled to ash between my fingers and from nowhere, a voice whispered:

"The Queen remembers… and spares."

 The first trial was over.

 But as I walked away from both of them, I couldn't help but feel it: The second one had already begun.