Reborn I Become The Queen Of A Billionaire King

"Is anybody in here?"

Mia pounded her gloved fist against the burning classroom door. The wood was so scorching hot it bit right through the thick leather.

A muffled sob came from somewhere under the fallen tiles in the corner.

Mia dropped onto her stomach, breathing in the thin strip of cool air near the floor. "Keep the noise coming, kid! Where are you?"

"Under the table!" a girl screamed, her voice shrill with terror. "It hurts!"

Mia crawled through the thick, blinding smoke. The floor burned straight through her knees, but she didn't stop. She reached the heavy desk and shoved it aside with everything she had.

A little girl was curled in a tight ball underneath, hands clamped over her head, eyes shut tight against the soot.

"I've got you," Mia gasped. She yanked off her heavy jacket and wrapped it around the child. "Look at me. What's your name?"

"L-Lily," the girl choked out, her whole body shaking.

"Okay, Lily. I'm Mia. We're getting out." Mia pulled the girl against her chest and hauled herself up. Lily's small fingers buried themselves in Mia's shirt.

Above them, a heavy crack echoed through the room.

The main roof beam was snapping. Red embers and hot plaster began pouring down right over their heads.

Not again, All Mia could see for a split second was her little brother Ethan's face, the boy she couldn't save all those years ago. She wasn't going to lose another child.

Mia threw her body forward and pitched Lily through the open doorway into the hall.

"Run!" Mia yelled.

She barely let go of the girl's coat before the burning timber crashed down, hitting the back of her head. The floor beneath her buckled, and the world went completely dark.

"Wake up."

Mia's eyes flew open. She reached up instinctively to tear off her oxygen mask, but her fingers hit bare skin.

She sat straight up, gasping for air. But there was no smell of smoke. No wet concrete or burnt wood. She was lying in a massive bed surrounded by soft silk sheets. The room was cold and smelled faintly of fresh roses.

"What..." she whispered, looking down at her hands.

The rough calluses on her palms were gone. Her hands looked smaller, pale, with neatly painted nails and a heavy gold ring set with a dark blue stone on her left finger.

She swung her legs over the bed and tried to stand, but her legs buckled. She stumbled sideways, catching herself against the frame of a tall mirror on the wall.

The face staring back at her wasn't her own.

Long black hair fell around sharp cheekbones, framing a pair of wide, terrified eyes.

Mia pressed both hands against the glass, her shaky breath fogging it up. "No. No, no... where am I? What is this?"

The heavy door at the end of the room clicked open. A young girl in a plain gray uniform stepped inside, holding a folded dress. She kept her head down as she walked.

"Your Majesty," the girl said quietly. "I brought the dress for tonight. King William asked for you in the dining room within the hour."

Mia turned around, her hands shaking so hard she had to press them against her sides. "Who are you? Where am I? Where's the hospital? Where are the paramedics?"

The girl stopped, looking up in confusion. "Your Majesty? Are you feeling unwell again? Should I call the doctor?"

"Answer me!" Mia took a step toward her, but her throat closed up.

When Mia spoke again, her voice sounded sharp, almost cold enough to surprise herself.

​"Tell the King I'm not coming."

​A sudden flicker of dread hit her stomach not her own, but an old, ingrained fear that made her want to just nod and obey. She shook it off, confused by where the feeling had even come from, but it vanished as fast as it came.

​The maid flinched, pulling the navy dress tight against her chest as she backed toward the door. "Your Majesty, please... He said if you refuse after what happened in the garden, he won't let you leave this room."

​Mia pressed her hands over her face, taking a breath to steady herself. "Just leave the dress and go."

​The maid put the dress on a nearby chair and hurried out, shutting the door behind her.

​Mia ran a hand through her hair, pacing the cold floor. None of this made sense. On a small side table sat a silver picture frame next to a folded piece of paper. She picked up the note.

​Khelani,

Your behavior yesterday was unacceptable. You will be at dinner tonight, and you will behave. Do not make this harder on yourself. William.

​Mia let the paper slip from her fingers. She looked down at the photo in the frame.

​It showed the woman from the mirror standing next to a tall man with dark hair and cold, light eyes. He wasn't smiling. Neither was she.

​Heavy, deliberate footsteps sounded in the hallway outside. They were coming straight toward her room.

​Mia backed away, her elbow accidentally bumping a small bottle off the vanity table. It landed soft on the rug.

​The brass handle turned. The lock clicked, and the door pushed open.

​The man from the photograph stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the space before locking right onto her.

​King William.