Electra’s POV

The moment I stepped into the palace, a strange, almost surreal feeling washed over me. The palace itself was familiar, but at the same time, it somehow felt foreign. After weeks of living in an alternate reality as Electra Hook—where no one bowed at my presence, where I was just another student struggling to deal with life—it felt wrong to be back in my own life as Princess Electra Vale.

Everywhere I walked, people bowed.

“Your Highness.”

“Welcome, Your Highness.”

And strangely, I couldn’t bring myself to be comfortable about it.

I had always been used to this. I had thrived on this. The fear and the obedience—it was what separated me from the ordinary. It was what kept people from stepping out of line, but after experiencing life as Electra Hook, as someone who was barely acknowledged, let alone feared, this display of submission felt… strange.

And what was even stranger was the way I found myself reacting.

I smiled at one of the palace servants as I passed.

Smiled.

I barely caught myself before I did it again when a guard bowed deeply in greeting.

I quickly turned my head away, schooling my expression back into indifference and cursing myself internally. ‘What the hell are you doing, Electra?’

This wasn’t me. I wasn’t nice.

I had spent years carefully building the image of Electra Vale—cold, mean, and nonchalant. The Electra that people feared was the one who never acknowledged those beneath her. The one who didn’t waste her time on pleasantries.

And yet, here I was, smiling at palace staff like some kind-hearted princess from a fairy tale.

No.

Absolutely not.

I clenched my jaw and forced my usual scowl back on my face. I couldn’t afford to be different. Not now.

After everything I had learned about my own death, about the betrayal that would lead to it, I needed to be the old me. The real me.

The mean, untouchable Electra Vale, who didn’t let people get too close.

I continued my walk through the halls, ignoring the growing unease that curled in my stomach. Deep down, I knew I wasn’t the same person I had been before the switch. I had changed. I had become nicer and less interested in being mean to be feared, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

But until I figured out what the hell was going on—why I had to die, why I was betrayed, and if my family had anything to do with my death—I needed to pretend that I hadn’t changed.

I needed to fake being the person I used to be.

By the time I arrived at the throne room, my expression was unreadable, my posture was perfect, and my mind was set.

Two guards stood at the large double doors, and at my arrival, one of them stepped forward, bowing slightly before announcing, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Electra.”

The doors were pushed open, and I stepped inside without hesitation.

My father was seated on his throne, his posture straight, and his expression as unreadable as usual.

I stopped a few steps before the throne, lowering my head slightly in the customary bow of respect. “Hello, Father,” I greeted, keeping it short and simple.

“Electra,” he responded, matching my tone.

I lifted my head, immediately cutting to the point. “I’m surprised that you texted me, father. What’s the emergency about?”

His eyes studied me for a long moment, unreadable and calculating. Then, finally, he exhaled, leaning slightly forward.

“Well,” he said. “There’s something important that you and I need to talk about.”

I narrowed my eyes, suspicion creeping into my voice. “What is this about?” I asked, crossing my arms. “I hope it’s not something I’m going to hate hearing.”

My father gave me a dry, unimpressed look, the kind that said he was already tired of my attitude. “It seems as though sometimes you forget you are a princess,” he said, his tone clipped. “More than that, you forget you are supposed to be my heir.”

I frowned, tilting my head slightly. “And what does that have to do with anything?”

His eyes bore into mine, sharp and assessing. “As a princess and as my heir, you should know by now that life will never go the way you want it to. You will hear things you’d rather not hear, and you will be forced into decisions you don’t want to make. That is what it means to be royalty.”

I squinted at him, suspicion growing stronger. I didn’t like where this was going. My father was never the type to lecture without a purpose—especially not when he had summoned me to the palace with such urgency.

“Alright, father,” I said slowly. “I doubt you called me here just to give me a life lesson, so why don’t you get straight to the point?”

He studied me for a moment, then exhaled sharply before leaning forward in his throne.

“Unfortunately, your position as the heir to the Elmerian throne is no longer as secure as it once was.”

My breath hitched slightly, and I straightened.

“What?”

“You heard me,” my father said, his voice calm. “Your position is no longer safe, so if you don’t act fast, you will be replaced.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. Replaced? Me? That was impossible. There was no one else who could take my place. No siblings. No distant cousins with royal blood. No one who had ever even come close to being a contender.

He had to be lying, or at the very least, exaggerating.

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “By who? Who could possibly replace me, Father? I’m an only child, and there’s no other person with the Vale blood besides you and me.”

“Well, there’s another Vale, and just so you know, he’s a man,” my father responded, and my eyes immediately widened in shock.

I stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. Another Vale? A man?

That wasn’t possible.

For as long as I could remember, I had been the only Vale heir. There was no one else. No one.

Yet here my father was, telling me that if I didn’t act fast, I could lose my position as the Crown Princess to someone else—to a man who had somehow come out of nowhere.

My brows furrowed deeply as a name immediately surfaced in my mind.

Hunter Vale.

The name had existed in the alternate reality where there was Seraphina Vale, where he had been her brother, but in this world—my world—no such person had ever existed, or so I had thought.

I turned my gaze back to my father, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. “Does this man you’re talking about happen to go by the name Hunter?”

My father’s expression shifted instantly. His composed demeanor faltered, and for the first time in a long time, he looked genuinely surprised.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “How do you know that name?”

“Son of a bitch!”

The words slipped from my lips before I could stop them.

A part of me had hoped that I was wrong and that his name wouldn’t be Hunter, but I wasn’t wrong. Hunter Vale existed here too, and now he was apparently coming for my throne.

“How the hell did this happen?” I snapped, taking a step forward. “I’ve spent the last nineteen years believing I was an only child. That I was the only Vale heir! Where the hell did Hunter Vale suddenly come from?”

My father let out a long sigh, rubbing his temple as though the conversation itself was giving him a headache. “I didn’t know this would happen either.”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Really? Because it sounds to me like you’ve been keeping secrets, Father.”

He met my gaze, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t keep this from you on purpose, Electra. Hunter was never meant to be a factor in any of this.”

I narrowed my eyes. “But he exists, and he is a Vale.”

“Yes, he is,” my father admitted. “But not in the way you think.”

I tilted my head, my patience thinning. “Then explain.”

My father straightened his posture, exhaling sharply before he spoke again. “Hunter is not your brother if that’s what you’re thinking.”

That caught me off guard, and my brows furrowed slightly. “Then who the hell is he?”

He looked me directly in the eye. “He is my brother and your uncle.”

I stared at him, my brain refusing to process what he had just said. “What?”

He nodded, his expression serious. “Hunter Vale is the son of the previous king. He is my father’s bastard.”

My mouth opened, then closed again. I was at a complete loss for words.

A bastard? My grandfather’s illegitimate son?

I took a slow step back, trying to piece everything together. “You’re telling me… that I’ve had an uncle this whole time, and no one thought to mention that to me?”

“There was no need,” my father said simply. “Hunter was never meant to be anything more than a forgotten mistake. He was sent away as a child, raised outside of the royal circle. He had no claim to the throne—at least, not until now.”

I let out a harsh laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. “And now, all of a sudden, he does?”

My father’s jaw tightened. “Someone is backing him.”

I stilled.

Of course.

Hunter Vale wasn’t just appearing out of nowhere by chance.

Someone—some powerful force—was bringing him into the light, positioning him as a threat to me, and if that was the case, it meant one thing.

Whoever was behind this might be the same person who wanted me dead.

I clenched my fists at my sides, my body buzzing with a mix of rage and adrenaline. “Who is backing him?” I demanded. “Who’s the bastard?”

King Vale sighed before responding, and as soon as he responded, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “It’s your mother, Electra. Jella is the one behind Henry.”

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