Chapter 10

Many may not know this, but Isabella despised every member of the Windsor household. In fact, she resented every human being on this planet.

Why? you may ask.

Because she wasn’t from this world. And all she ever wanted—desperately, painfully—was to go home.

Yet, there were exceptions.

There were those few precious souls who cared about her... Those who loved and cherished her, who wanted nothing more than to protect her from the dangers lurking in this treacherous world.

To them, Isabella—no, Lady October Windsor—was a brilliant star. A star that deserved to shine among the heavens, unburdened and free.

At that moment, however, Lady October was not thinking about the poetry of the stars.

She was busy plotting her next grand escape.

Seated at a large oak desk in Scheuer’s office, her head resting on her fist, October sighed heavily. Mr. Baldwin had, tragically, not gone through as she had hoped. Whether he had been real or a figment of her desperation, he had disappeared like a dream at dawn.

With a huff, she grabbed a quill and began organizing the stacks of paperwork left behind by her sister.

"How could that woman doubt me?" she fumed inwardly, furiously scribbling. "Does she even know who I am?"

"I am Isabella Martins," she whispered to herself under her breath, as if reciting a sacred mantra. "A famous lawyer, mind you! A double honors graduate from York University—Law and English, no less! What is this menial task compared to the mountains I’ve climbed?"

She signed another document with a flourish, feeling only slightly better.

Just then, the door creaked open. A young maid, looking rather nervous, stepped in and curtseyed politely.

"Good day, my lady," the maid said, bowing her head.

October looked up, tapping her pen against the desk.

"And what is it?" she asked, her tone brisk.

"A letter, milady. From the palace," the maid informed her, extending a silver tray with a neatly folded envelope atop it.

October's eyebrows shot up.

"Hand it over," she commanded.

The maid obeyed quickly, placing the letter into October’s outstretched hand before retreating a few steps back.

October tore the envelope open with little ceremony, her sharp nails slicing through the wax seal effortlessly. She unfolded the letter, eyes scanning the elegant handwriting.

The letter was formal, polite yet unmistakably direct: an invitation to attend a royal gathering, on behalf of the Crown Prince himself.

She leaned back in her chair, tapping the letter against her chin thoughtfully.

"Why me?" she wondered. "Why now?"

There had to be more behind this invitation.

Analyzing the nuances of the letter became her sole focus. Every comma, every phrasing, she picked apart as if it were a case file from her old world.

Isabella, being the organized and diligent woman she had always been, knew she had to finish the rest of Scheuer’s assigned work before she could properly address this unexpected summons.

"God, I hate myself sometimes," she muttered, gritting her teeth and bending back over the documents.

\---

An hour later, October finally shoved the last completed form aside with a dramatic sigh of relief.

Stretching her cramped fingers, she turned toward the door.

"Gloria!" she called out.

Almost instantly, her personal maid appeared from her post nearby, bowing elegantly.

"Milady, you called?"

October waved the letter in the air like a flag.

"Let’s go to my room. We have such arrangements to make."

Without wasting time, they left the office and made their way down the long halls to October’s chambers. As they walked, October’s mind spun with possibilities, strategies, and fears.

If I truly want to help October, I have to improve her reputation, Isabella thought.

The real October was known to be shy and timid, much like how I used to be. But where did that get me? Nowhere. It got me here, in this foreign body, in a world that wants me dead.

She clenched her fists.

This is my second chance. I won’t waste it. No more Isabella Martins. From now on, I am October Windsor—strong, bold, and unstoppable.

\---

Once safely tucked away in her cozy, warmly lit room, October perched herself on a velvet chair by her writing desk. Gloria helped arrange fresh ink and parchment before stepping back respectfully.

October cracked her knuckles and got to work.

She carefully composed her reply to the palace: gracious but not overly eager, confident but not arrogant, humble yet intriguing. Every word had to strike the perfect balance.

"I have to seize this opportunity," she thought fiercely, her quill scratching steadily across the page.

Minutes stretched into an hour, but she refused to rush. This was the first step in reshaping October’s life. She would not let it slip through her fingers.

At last, she finished.

Reading over the letter, a small smile tugged at her lips. It was perfect. Honest, composed, and intelligent—an image of October that the palace could not ignore.

"Gloria, please come here," October called out softly.

The maid immediately approached with a slight bow.

"Milady?"

October handed her the folded, sealed letter with a bright, sunny smile that made her look radiant.

"Can you please deliver this letter to the palace for me?" she asked sweetly.

Gloria's eyes widened slightly at the sight of October’s rare, sincere smile. She accepted the letter with a bow so deep it nearly touched the floor.

"At once, milady," she said.

As Gloria left the room, October leaned back in her chair, feeling a weight lift off her chest.

Maybe now... maybe now I can finally make a new friend. Maybe now, I can create a future worth living.

Outside her window, the sky was beginning to darken into a deep velvet blue. Stars winked faintly into existence, one by one.

October gazed at them, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"I won't waste this life," she whispered to herself.

"Not this time."