Ash rained from the heavens. Alisandra Vale, once hailed as the Crimson General of the North, stood bloodied and surrounded. The battlefield — once her symphony — had betrayed her. Her soldiers, bound to her by honor, had long since been cut down. The war council she had once led had turned against her, accusing her of treason, a lie whispered into the ears of kings by jealous nobles.She had held the line at Fort Ellion for six nights with only a tenth of the army. Her body bore the price: a shattered rib, gashes running down her arms, and her sword chipped from relentless battle. And now, with the banner of her kingdom raised by her enemies, she knew.
This was not the death of a soldier.
It was the execution of a scapegoat.
With one final breath, she fell. The roar of battle faded into silence. And then—
Nothing.
Chapter 2: Rebirth in Ash and Lace
Kaelira Veyne opened her eyes with a scream.
It was not a battlefield she woke to — but a silken canopy, threadbare and moth-bitten. Her body, once muscular and honed by war, now felt… delicate. Pale hands with calloused fingertips clutched damp sheets. Her chest heaved.
Memories fought in her head: the cries of dying men, the twist of betrayal, and now —
A baron's daughter?
Her reflection in the dusty bronze mirror across the room made her breath catch. Gone was the hardened general's scarred face and battle-worn armor. In its place was a young woman with waist-length black hair that shimmered like oil in candlelight, and crimson eyes that burned with an intensity no girl her age should have.
She looked like a villainess from the stories. And she remembered, then — this world.
Not her world. Not the world of blades and kings she had bled for. No, this world was built of castles and roses, of elegance and cruelty, of lineage and fate. A world from the pages of stories whispered through her dreams after death.
This was a realm where Kaelira Veyne — the original one — had been a notorious figure.
The villainess of the story.
Feared in noble courts for her sharp tongue and colder heart, Kaelira had been raised by a bitter mother who drilled into her the idea that their family's fall from grace was due to mercy and weakness. She had grown with ambition but no guidance, using cruelty as her shield. The court despised her, and when her father began losing favor, Kaelira's name became a warning to noble daughters: do not become like her.
She had died young — poisoned by a noble rival after an arranged engagement to a minor prince was announced. No one mourned her. Not even the staff.
Now, General Alisandra Vale lived in her flesh. With her memories. And her crimson eyes.
She ran trembling fingers through the obsidian waves of her hair. In this world, a woman with eyes like hers was considered cursed — a bearer of ill fate or demonic power. It was no wonder the original Kaelira had become so feared.
But this time, things would be different.
She would not fall prey to poison or hatred. She would use the fear, twist the curse into command. And she would rise, not as a villainess — but as something far more dangerous.
A forgotten baroness with the soul of a general.