It had already been two years. Two long, grueling, relentless years since Kayla came back in time. And today… today was the day she had been waiting for.
The day that would decide her future.
The day she would finally learn whether she had gotten into the Astral Academy.
She stood near the window, her heart pounding in her chest like war drums, staring out at the gardens if the answer might arrive on the breeze. Every moment of the past two years had been spent preparing—studying until her eyes ached, pushing her body and mana reserves to the edge during training, and reading dusty old tomes under candlelight long after the rest of the house had gone to sleep.
Today, she would find out if any of it had been worth it.
Down the hallway, her mother was pacing back and forth, wringing her hands, muttering prayers under her breath. The hem of her gown was nearly dragging from how many times she'd turned around. Kayla could tell she was trying not to let the anxiety show, but she was never good at hiding her emotions.
Her father, on the other hand, wore a calm mask of disinterest, seated with a book he wasn't reading and sipping tea he wasn't tasting. But Kayla saw it—every time a servant entered the room, he'd glance up quickly, eyes flickering with hope before he caught himself and returned to his "calm" façade.
Only Charles seemed truly at ease.
Her older brother stood leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, a small, confident smirk playing on his lips. His amber eyes were calm, almost smug, as he watched the rest of the family unravel. Not even a single thread of doubt crossed his face.
"You'll get in," he said casually when he caught her watching him. "You're the most stubborn person I've ever met. And I've met myself."
Kayla snorted despite herself, a shaky little laugh breaking through the wall of tension that had wrapped around her chest. "Thanks, I think."
He grinned. "You think right."
She turned back toward the window, the nerves clawing their way back up her spine. The academy wasn't just a goal—it was a symbol. A chance at freedom, at power, at control over her life. It wasn't just about magic or education—it was the key to ensuring she would never be powerless again. Never be caged. Never be betrayed and destroyed by the people she had once loved.
She clenched her fists.
I've worked too hard for this. I won't accept anything less. This time, I make the rules.
But only if it were that easy.
While I had been preparing for two years—just two years—others had been working toward this goal their entire lives. Children from noble houses, from ancient bloodlines, from warrior clans, had been molded from birth with one dream in mind: to enter the Astral Academy. Tutors, combat instructors, magical artifacts, rare grimoires—everything money and status could offer had been poured into their training.
And still, only fifty students made it in every year.
Fifty. Out of thousands.
It didn't matter if you were a prince or a peasant. The Academy didn't care about your name or your gold. It only cared about one thing—pure talent. Either you had it, or you didn't. And if you didn't, you were out. No second chances. No special favors.
she didn't have noble support or elite training. She didn't have a lifetime of preparation. But she did have something else—memories. Of a life lived, of pain endured, of betrayals that carved holes into my soul.
kayla used my knowledge from the future to her advantage. Every mistake she had made, every opportunity she had missed, she corrected. Her determination was forged from fire, from heartbreak, from a desperation no one else could understand.
And now, in just a few moments… she would know.
she would know if she could finally set my plans into motion.
If she could finally walk the path that would lead me to their ruin.
To their downfall.
To her justice.
Just then—
Margret came sprinting down the hall, her cheeks flushed and hair a little out of place from running. Clutched tightly in her hands was a letter, sealed with the golden crest I'd been dreaming of for two years. She nearly slipped on the polished floor but caught herself, breathless as she skidded to a stop.
Her eyes locked with mine. "It's here," she gasped, holding the letter to her chest like it was something holy.
Time stopped.
Her heart slammed into my ribs so hard she thought it would crack them.
This was it. Everything she had done. Everything she had sacrificed. Everything she had become—
It all came down to this one letter.
My father rose from his seat, slow but purposeful, and took the letter gently from Margret's trembling hands. The air grew still, the kind of silence that clings to your skin, thick with anticipation. Mother stopped pacing. Charles stood straighter beside her, his amber eyes locked on the letter as if willing it to open itself.
We all gathered around Father, breath held, eyes wide, hearts pounding.
Then, he turned to her. "Open it," he said, his voice steady, though kayla could see the flicker of nervous hope in his eyes. He held the letter out to her like it was something fragile, sacred.
Her hands shook as she reached out. It was heavier than she expected. The envelope was deep blue, with soft hues of pink and purple splattered across it, like someone had captured the twilight sky and wrapped it around her future. A silver wax seal shimmered against the paper, stamped with two elegant letters: AA — Astral Academy.
Her breath hitched.
She held the letter in both hands, my fingers brushing over the seal. This was it. This moment would either break her… or ignite something far greater.
With a deep breath, she snapped the seal.
Inside was a single sheet of paper. she pulled it out slowly, unfolding it like it was made of glass.
There, in bold silver ink, just three words:
"You are accepted."
Her eyes stared at the words, not blinking, not breathing. Her brain couldn't process it fast enough—like my mind refused to believe what my eyes were seeing.
Then chaos erupted around her.
She didn't remember who moved first, but suddenly kayla was being pulled into hugs, her mother crying and laughing all at once, clinging to me like she had just come back to life. Her father, normally so composed, actually let out a shout of joy, and kayla swore she saw tears glistening in his eyes. Charles grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her a little, grinning so wide it almost looked painful.
"It's real," she whispered, the shock still holding her in place. "I got in... I really got in."
There were more hugs, more crying, more laughter. Even the maids peeked in through the hallway, smiling and whispering excitedly among themselves.
But beneath all the joy, deep in the quiet corners of my mind, another voice whispered:
Now it begins.
The path to vengeance.
The path to power.
And there's no turning back.