"Second Miss, tomorrow’s your big day. The Master wants to see you in the front study."
Janelle Johnson blinked, dazed.
Second Miss?
Back then, they all called her Lady Thompson. Later, she was the “vicious Madame Johnson.” Only folks from her family ever called her Second Miss.
She instinctively glanced at her hands—soft, pale, unmarred. That constant burning pain from the poison was gone.
Looking around, the room was draped in red silk, as festive as it could be—the night before a wedding.
She… had come back?
Her fingers trembled slightly, a rush of disbelief and joy bubbling in her chest.
After dying from poison, she actually woke up the day before she and Fiona got married?
Memories from her last life raced through her mind, and her eyes turned cold. Without hesitation, she pushed the door open and headed straight for the study.
Just as she reached the doorway, she caught Mr. Johnson’s low, serious voice.
“That year, both of you were poisoned by one of my political enemies. Though I found a miracle doctor, he only managed to brew two special antidotes with extra effects… You must take them before your weddings tomorrow.”
“One’s the Fertility Pill—it’ll make the user extremely fertile, guaranteed to have twins, but…” His words trailed off, clearly uncomfortable. “But the user will have excessive desires in the bedroom.”
“The other is the Love Bind Pill. Taken together by a couple, it secures lifelong affection, but… there will be no children.” He paused, then added, “Fiona, you take the Fertility Pill. The Love Bind Pill goes to Janelle.”
The corners of Janelle’s lips lifted as she pushed the door open.
She looked straight at her father and older sister, who both stood frozen in the lamplight. “So, Big Sis gets to marry the nearly-infertile Prince, takes the Fertility Pill, gives him strong heirs, and with time, maybe even becomes the mother of the nation... Father really went all out for her.”
She smiled faintly. “And me? I marry a poor scholar with no title, take the pill that ruins any chance of children. So I guess my future’s all set too.”
Mr. Johnson’s face stiffened. Before he could respond, Fiona spoke first.
“Little Sister, what are you saying?” Her brows drew together in pretend concern. “Graham is brilliant. Father chose him for your sake. You should be grateful.”
Her tone was sweet, but those eyes—full of jealousy, and something smug—told a different story. Then came the kicker.
“Well, if you really want the Fertility Pill and the Prince, I... I’ll step aside.”
She even mustered tears as she said it.
Janelle blinked, obviously surprised.
“Enough,” Mr. Johnson finally said, his voice low. “There’s no need to fight. I just want what’s best for both of you. Whoever takes it—it’s a rare blessing.”
He placed the two pills on the table and gently nudged them forward.
Janelle stared at them, her chest tightening.
In her past life, she’d taken the Love Bind Pill—but Graham never took his half. Six years into the marriage, he’d become a high official, and she died from the poison.
All because Fiona had been tricked by a concubine in the Prince’s household and lost her life and unborn children.
That was the first—and only—time Graham cried.
He looked at Janelle with pure hatred and said, “That so-called Love Bind Pill you gave me on our wedding night? Switched it before it touched my lips. Why would I ever betray Fiona for a woman like you?”
“You stole her marriage, dragged her to her death, and now you want love? Her life... that’s what you owe her!”
Only then had Janelle realized... Graham had always been in love with Fiona.He bought into Fiona Johnson’s lies too, thinking Janelle Johnson had stolen the match and ruined a love meant to be.
But wasn’t the Fertility Pill meant for Fiona all along? And marrying Prince Vaughn was decreed by imperial edict—how was any of that Janelle’s fault?
Janelle shut her eyes.
Sincerity had gotten her nowhere. Now that she had a second shot, she might as well own the accusation, marry Prince Vaughn, and aim for the highest seat in the inner court.
She stepped forward, snatched the Fertility Pill, and swallowed it in one go. A wave of heat swept through her body instantly.
Mr. Johnson jolted up, slamming his hand on the table.
"Janelle! How dare you!"
Fiona looked stunned at first, then a faint curve lifted the corner of her mouth.
Janelle gave them both a bright smile. "What luck, Father. Aren’t you happy for me?"
Mr. Johnson pointed at her with a trembling hand, lips moving but no sound coming out. He sat frozen, head buzzing with disbelief.
Now that only the Loyalty Pill remained, did he really want Fiona to give it to a prince the Emperor favored so highly?
Could their whole clan even survive that risk?
Camilla Johnson stared at him for a beat and said clearly, "Graham Thompson? He’s yours if you want him. I’m marrying Prince Vaughn."
The room turned still.
Fiona’s eyes flickered. She lowered her head and said, voice choking up, "The edict named me, but with Father’s standing, the wrong bride can be explained away. If little sister wants the marriage so badly, let her have it. I… I’ll step aside."
Tears welled in her eyes, tugging at Mr. Johnson’s heart, but there was nothing more to be done.
There was only one Fertility Pill, and giving it to the childless prince wasn’t exactly wasteful.
Switching brides was the safest move. Both girls were born of the main wife; the difference was which one was the eldest. The Emperor wouldn’t care.
After a long pause, he nodded, face dark.
Fiona lowered her gaze, but pride quietly gleamed in her eyes.
Everyone in the capital knew Prince Vaughn already had someone he loved. So what if Janelle had taken the pill? Without his favor, she couldn’t bear any children.
And even if they did consummate, in that harem? The Fertility Pill would only hasten her end.
That man had no tolerance for threats. Janelle was done for.
…
Once outside the study, Fiona blocked Janelle’s path. The fake gentleness vanished without a trace.
"Want to know why Graham despises you?" she said, sounding both pitying and smug. "Six months ago he came to the house, planning to propose to you. But then he met me—and it was love at first sight."
She chuckled, voice syrupy sweet.
"He told me right then he’d never seen anyone as dull, tasteless, and shamefully bold as you."
Janelle stared at her. Then asked calmly, "And now that I’ve taken your place as princess consort, you don’t hate me?"
"Hate someone who’s rushing to her own death?" Fiona said lightly, arrogance barely masked. "Now that the marriage is settled, I’ll speak plainly—within five years, Graham will be Minister of Appointments. Ten years later, he’ll be Prime Minister."
"As for Prince Vaughn? Entangled in the succession fight, his whole household won't make it out alive."
Her gloating was written all over her face.
Janelle frowned. Something felt…off. Fiona sounded way too sure about Graham’s future.
For a moment, the thought struck her—could Fiona have been reborn too? She quickly dismissed it.
With Fiona’s petty mind, if she’d really come back with knowledge of the future, there’d be glaring signs already.
Just then, Fiona’s gaze shifted beyond Janelle’s shoulder. Her expression lit up as she called sweetly, "Graham!"
