Once Again, Into the Light

Falsely accused of attempting to kill her younger sister—a girl worshipped as a Saintess—she found herself utterly alone. Not a single soul believed in her innocence, and no one rose to her defense, not even her own flesh and blood. She was only fourteen years old. It was winter, and Edenbell's Fourth Princess was wretchedly beheaded before the masses. Yet her death was not the end. When she awoke once more, what greeted her was a voice: "My baby, my precious younger sister." A man gazed down at her with a joyful smile, cradling her tiny fingers in his hand. That warm gesture, that warmth, that touch—holding her gently in his arms, he swayed softly and sang her a lullaby.