Second Chance Revenge: Win The Devil's Heart

"Oh, my lady Taya! The cart... we're losing control, and it's heading straight for the—"

Before the cart driver could finish, the horses broke into a frenzy, charging wildly as though possessed. With a sickening thud, the driver's body was thrown from the cart, hitting the ground with a harsh finality. Lady Taya, already taut with fear, felt her heart stutter as she looked down to see his body lying motionless in the dirt.

The horses thundered onward, the cart veering dangerously toward a cliff's edge at an insane speed.

'What on earth is happening?' she thought, pressing a trembling hand over her heart, which now hammered in panic. Her mind whirled in horror as the wild horses dragged her towards certain death. Fear gripped her so completely that it seemed to bleed into her chest, intensifying with each wild lurch of the cart.

Her life had not gone as she'd once dreamed. Tragedy and disappointment haunted her from the earliest years. Her childhood had been bleak, and her marriage, a hollow bond that had brought her little but sorrow. And now, her life, reduced to this frenzied, reckless descent, seemed more pitiable than ever.

Without warning, a sharp pain seared through her left arm—a sudden arrow, burying itself deep into her flesh. She let out a strangled cry as she clutched her arm, gasping from the shock and agony. It was as though her very heart had been struck.

"Help! Anyone, please!" she cried, her voice cracking in despair. "Orig! My husband, where are you?" The words were more plea than call, born out of a desperate hope that somewhere, he might hear her and come to her aid, that he might care. Yet, she knew all too well that it was a fantasy, a mirage that dissolved even as she whispered his name.

Just then, the cart hit a rock, launching it airborne before it tumbled off the cliff. As the cart spun downward, Taya was thrown, her head colliding with a jagged stone on the descent. Blood poured from the wound, hot and relentless. Dizzy and disoriented, she struggled to keep her eyes open, feeling her life ebbing away with each heartbeat.

Is this really how it ends?she wondered, her thoughts dull as her consciousness slipped. Dying in misery, broken and unloved, without even knowing who's responsible for this attack? Could it have been Orig…? No, that can't be. I love him; I am his wife…

The words tumbled through her mind, hollow and forlorn, as her vision faded. Her pulse slowed, the beat of life growing ever fainter.

The cliffside was surrounded by dense trees and the sweet, earthy scent of grass, now tainted by the metallic tang of her blood. Her hand still clung to her wedding ring, gripping it as if it alone could tether her to the world she was slipping from.

---

"Wake up, Lady Taya. Your father, the Duke, awaits you in the hall."

A voice cut through the haze. Taya felt herself pulled back from the edge, and slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the dizzying remnants of her nightmare. She saw her maid standing nearby, calling her loudly and impatiently, as though addressing a lazy servant rather than a lady.

"Why… why do I feel so dizzy?" she murmured, sitting up, her head swimming. Her mind drifted back to the accident, the terror and pain haunting her as though it had happened moments ago. Every memory brought a fresh wave of nausea and dread.

Taya threw back her blankets and approached the large mirror across the room. She gazed at her reflection—her youthful face, unmarred by age, framed by vibrant, red hair cascading down her back. Her skin, pale and flawless, almost glowed in the morning light, softer than even a newborn's. But there was something wrong.

"Is this... is this me?" she whispered in disbelief, her hand reaching up to touch her face. "I look younger… much younger. Am I... alive?"

She pinched herself, her heart pounding as she searched for proof that this was real and not some twisted dream. Her maid watched her odd behavior with a confused frown, unsure what to make of the strange display.

"My lady, what shall you wear for your birthday celebration this evening?" the maid asked, attempting to draw Taya back into reality. "All the grandest nobles from here and beyond will be in attendance. Think of it—dozens of princes and wealthy lords, each hoping to win your favor."

Taya felt the words hit her with a jolt, her eyes widening as comprehension dawned. Her eighteenth birthday? How was it possible? It seemed that fate itself had granted her a second chance—a life returned to the very moment before everything went wrong, before her innocence was crushed by the brutal years that had followed.

Her voice was a barely audible murmur as she struggled to grasp the enormity of it all. "Another chance... a chance to change it all."

The maid, watching her lady's odd behavior, sighed softly. Lady Taya had always been quiet and submissive, fearing her own shadow. She rarely spoke, barely made a ripple in her own home.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a violent crash, nearly coming off its hinges. Taya's maid jumped back in shock as a tall figure strode in. He was an imposing man with piercing blue eyes, eyes that matched Taya's but were filled with a venomous disdain. His long, silver hair flowed around his shoulders, and a deep scar etched across his brow—a proud remnant of his last battle, a symbol of his valor in the kingdom's wars. Duke Rodolphe Diduchi, Taya's father.

"What are you still doing here, shame of my life?" he snarled, his words dripping with contempt. "I summoned you half an hour ago, yet here you linger like some lowly servant. Do you think I will tolerate such insolence?"

Taya's heart lurched as his icy words cut through her, each syllable like a blade to her chest. She knew this man's cruelty intimately. The proud Duke, who wore his scars like badges of honor, never hesitated to turn his wrath upon his daughter.

"Father," she whispered, barely able to look into his hate-filled eyes.

Before she could utter another word, his hand shot out, striking her with a force that sent her stumbling back onto the bed. Her hair fell forward, covering her face like a dark veil. The burning sting of his slap echoed through her, igniting a surge of rage and pain that threatened to choke her. Could she endure his brutality again? Would she lower her head once more and accept his abuse, pretending to be nothing more than the meek daughter he demanded?

"No," she vowed silently, a fierce determination awakening within her. *Not this time. Not in this life.

The Duke sneered down at her, oblivious to the change within his daughter. "Some suitors will attend tonight's celebration," he said coldly, as if discussing a business deal. "You will act accordingly. Make yourself useful and ensure you capture someone's interest. You are a commodity, Taya. It's time you understood that."

In that moment, something inside her shifted irrevocably. She stared at the Duke, her fingers clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. For the first time, she met his gaze without flinching, her resolve crystallizing in the face of his cold indifference.

Not again, she thought, her heart hardening. Not this time. I will no longer be his pawn.