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The velvet box sat on her vanity like a coiled serpent.

Evelyn stared at it from across the room, her hands gripped tight in her lap. She had been summoning the courage to open it for the past ten minutes. Ten minutes of breathing exercises and mental preparation that did nothing to calm the sick dread pooling in her stomach.

She knew what waited inside. The obsidian choker. The prison that would drain her magic drop by drop while Asher smiled and called it protection.

In her first life, she had opened this box with delight. Had gasped at the beauty of the dark stones, at the intricate silver filigree that made the piece look delicate despite its weight. She had thanked Asher with tears in her eyes, believing every lie about how the artifact would shield her from those who might exploit her power.

Fool. She had been such a pathetic fool.

Now she understood. The choker was not a shield. It was a leash designed to strangle her slowly.

A knock at the door made her flinch. Helen entered with a curtsy, her expression carefully neutral. "Your Highness, His Highness the Crown Prince requests your presence in the portrait gallery. He wishes to see you wearing his gift before tonight's court reception."

Of course he did. Asher would want to witness the moment she clasped the chains around her own throat. Would want to see her smile while the enchantment began its work.

"Tell him I will be there shortly," Evelyn said, proud that her voice remained steady.

Helen hesitated in the doorway. "Your Highness, if I may say so, you look pale. Are you certain you are well enough to attend tonight?"

Sweet Helen. Still worried, still kind, with no idea that in two years desperation would turn her into Asher's spy. Evelyn had already begun laying groundwork to prevent that future, subtle interventions to ease the financial pressure on Helen's family before it became crushing.

"I am perfectly well," Evelyn lied. "Just a headache. It will pass."

Helen nodded and withdrew, though her concerned glance lingered. The door clicked shut with terrible finality.

Evelyn stood and crossed to the vanity. Her reflection stared back at her with eyes that had learned to hide their emotions behind careful masks. She looked every inch the Sunstone Princess. Composed, elegant, utterly breakable.

She reached for the velvet box. Her fingers trembled only slightly as she lifted the lid.

The choker gleamed against black silk lining. Beautiful and terrible, exactly as she remembered. The obsidian stones caught the afternoon light and seemed to drink it in, transforming golden rays into shadow. The silver filigree formed an intricate pattern that looked almost like writing, though the symbols made no sense to her untrained eyes.

Celene would know what they meant. The disgraced mage Evelyn had yet to find would be able to read the enchantment woven into metal and stone. But that knowledge would come too late to prevent this moment.

Evelyn lifted the choker from its velvet nest. The metal felt cold against her palms, colder than it should have been in the warm afternoon air. She brought it to her throat, positioning it carefully. The stones rested against her collarbone like ice.

Her hands shook as she reached for the clasp. She had to do this. Had to wear the cursed thing to maintain her cover as the dutiful sister who suspected nothing. If she refused Asher's gift, he would know something had changed. Would start asking questions she could not answer without revealing the impossible truth.

Better to accept the leash now and learn to work around it. Better to smile while the trap closed and save her defiance for when it would actually matter.

Evelyn fastened the clasp. The mechanism clicked into place with a sound like a cell door locking.

The effect was immediate and devastating. She felt the warmth in her chest, that tiny flicker of recovered magic, suddenly pulled toward the stones at her throat. The choker drank it in with terrible efficiency, draining the power from her veins like a parasite feeding on a host.

She gasped and gripped the edge of the vanity. Pain lanced through her chest, sharp and burning. Not physical pain precisely, but something worse. The sensation of violation, of having something precious stolen directly from her core.

Her reflection wavered in the mirror. For a moment she saw two images overlaid. The girl she had been, wearing this choker for the first time with innocent trust. And the woman she had become, understanding exactly what was being taken from her.

The drain stabilized after several agonizing seconds. The acute pain faded to a dull ache, a constant reminder of the artifact's presence. Evelyn forced herself to breathe slowly, to assess the damage.

Her magic was not gone. She could still feel the ember buried deep, that spark she had worked so desperately to recover. But it was dimmed now, suppressed by the enchantment. Reaching for it would be like trying to grasp something through thick glass. Possible, but infinitely harder than before.

She touched the stones at her throat. They felt warm now, almost alive, pulsing with stolen energy. Her energy. Her birthright, flowing out of her body and into this cursed artifact that Asher had so carefully designed.

Evelyn met her own gaze in the mirror. The innocent girl was gone. In her place stood someone harder, someone willing to wear her chains with a smile while she learned to break them.

She would go to Asher now. Would thank him for this beautiful gift with gratitude painted across her face. Would let him see his perfect doll, obedient and controlled.

And while he congratulated himself on his cleverness, she would be memorizing every sensation the choker produced. Learning its patterns. Finding its weaknesses.

Evelyn straightened her shoulders and walked to the door. The choker rested against her throat like a promise of death. She would keep that promise close. Would remember every moment of violation.

Until the day she made him choke on his own schemes.