Mia Luna Tearmoon

I, Mia Luna Tearmoon, have felt the guillotine’s kiss and lived to panic about it. Thanks to some cruel cosmic joke—or my own spineless will to survive—I’m back in my twelve-year-old body, years before the empire collapses. I’ve got a diary soaked in my own blood, and a very clear list of what not to do. So while I sip tea and smile at courtiers, I’m mentally recalculating the price of bread and wondering if that minor slight from a baron will get me beheaded later. I’m not a hero. I just really, really don’t want to die.