Night had fallen quietly.
The estate was asleep, yet my mind refused to follow.
I lay staring at the ceiling, eyes open, breath steady—too steady for someone who should have been tired.
Linda.
Five years.
It had been five years since that dream.
Her voice.Her warmth.And the unbearable guilt that followed.
I remembered how I had called out that night—how desperately I had reached for the only being I thought could answer me.
And then there was him.
That divine presence.
The one I had called out to as my last hope.
Why now?Why show me that dream after all this time?
No answer had come.
No god.No voice.Only silence.
And time.
"Today would be our last class. Tomorrow, we depart for the Royal Capital—so try to enjoy it."
Princess Tesselia said it with a smile.
The same plastered smile.
It had been five years since she began tutoring me—history, royal etiquette, diplomacy. Five years of afternoons spent seated across from each other, parchment between us, sunlight slipping through tall windows.
She would be twelve in a few months.I had already turned thirteen.
During these years, my routine never changed.
Sword and magic training in the morning.Tess's lectures from afternoon until evening.
And yet—
Something always felt… off.
She walked between desks now, hands behind her back, pretending not to notice my wandering gaze.
"The founding of the seven kingdoms," she continued, "was not born from unity—but necessity."
Her voice was steady. Practiced.
Royal Capital…
The word stirred something old inside me.
In my first life, I had walked those marble halls as a Royal Soldier Captain. I remembered formations, commands, blood-stained banners.
And Linda—waiting for me.
A soft knock of chalk against my desk snapped me back.
"Tsk tsk," Tess said, leaning closer. "Care to share your thoughts with the class?"
I blinked. "There is no class."
She puffed her cheeks slightly. "Exactly. Which makes it worse."
A pause.
Then—she smiled again.
But this time, I noticed.
It didn't reach her eyes.
Five years, and yet the distance between us had only slightly closed. Not strangers—but not close either.
Maybe five out of a hundred.
After the lecture ended, she lingered by the door.
"Rio?" she said.
"Father is calling for you tomorrow morning."
She peeked in with that same smile.
A smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Sleep came without warning.
Or maybe—
I thought it did.
When I opened my eyes, the world was gone.
White.
Endless, soundless white.
I recognized it instantly.
The place where I had trained endlessly.
The Goddess of Magic's realm.
Familiar—yet distant.
Then I saw him.
A boy—around sixteen—sitting casually on a tree branch that shouldn't have existed. Black hair swayed gently as he swung his legs, a flute forming in his hands as if summoned by thought alone.
He played.
And the music—
It unraveled me.
The tension I hadn't realized I was carrying melted away.
Even without seeing his face—
I knew.
"It's you," I said quietly.
The god smiled.
'You recognized me faster this time.'
I clenched my fists. "Why the dreams? Why now? Why weren't you there when I called you five years ago?"
He looked at me—not stern, not amused.
Just… kind.
'Because everything has its time and place.'
His voice echoed like scripture.
A truth older than worlds.
'Today is the right time.'
His body began to fade—breaking into glowing dust.
'I'll give you some privacy.'
And then—
"Rio."
Her voice.
It wasn't loud.It didn't echo.
It simply existed.
The endless white space trembled—not violently, but like water stirred by a single drop. I turned slowly, afraid that if I moved too fast, she would disappear again like smoke through my fingers.
Linda stood there.
Alive.
No—present.
Her figure was exactly as I remembered in feeling, even if my memories had long since lost her face. Black hair falling loosely past her shoulders, clothes simple, untouched by time. Her eyes shimmered with tears that hadn't yet fallen, lips curved into a smile that tried—and failed—to be strong.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then the distance between us vanished.
I don't remember who stepped forward first. I only remember the warmth—real, undeniable—wrapping around me as I pulled her into my arms.
She was trembling.
So was I.
I buried my face into her shoulder, breath hitching as something ancient and broken finally cracked open inside me.
"You're here," I whispered. "You're really here."
"I am," she replied softly, her arms tightening around me. "Just for a little while."
That alone was enough to make my chest ache.
We stayed like that—silent, unmoving—letting the space fill with everything we never got to say. I felt her fingers curl into the back of my clothes as if she was afraid I'd vanish next.
"I wanted you to be happy," Linda said at last, her voice gentle but strained. "That's why I stayed away."
I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her eyes avoided mine.
"But you weren't," she continued quietly. "Not really. And because of that… I couldn't stay."
"Why?" The word slipped out before I could stop it. "Why didn't you come sooner? Why now?"
She exhaled slowly, as if steadying herself.
"Because if I had appeared before you were ready," she said, "you would have broken completely."
I clenched my fists. "I already did."
She shook her head. "No. You endured. That matters."
Her gaze softened. "God came to find me. He told me you had reached a crossroads—that if you saw me now, you might finally let go… or cling forever."
I swallowed. "I'd choose you. Even now."
"I know," she said immediately. "That's why this hurts."
Tears finally spilled down her cheeks.
"I moved on, Rio," she admitted. "Not away from you—but forward. Somewhere else. Somewhere, I was allowed to rest."
My breath caught. "Then take me with you."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"If you're there," I said, voice shaking, "then I don't care where I end up."
She smiled—a sad, beautiful smile filled with love and pain in equal measure.
"If you do that," she whispered, lifting a trembling hand to my cheek, "I will never appear before you again. Ever."
The words struck harder than any blade.
Silence fell.
Not empty silence—but heavy, final silence.
I searched her face, memorizing every detail. The curve of her lips. The way her eyes softened when she looked at me. The way she tried to be strong for my sake, even now.
"…That's not fair," I said hoarsely.
"I know," she replied. "But love rarely is."
I closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, the decision was already made.
"…I'll go back," I said quietly.
Her breath hitched.
"I won't forget you," I continued. "But I won't chain myself to the past either."
Relief flooded her expression, followed by tears that fell freely now.
She stepped closer and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.
"You'll love again," she said. "And when you do… don't be afraid of it."
My brow furrowed. "Tess…"
Linda chuckled softly. "You noticed."
"She smiles," I said. "But it feels… forced. Like she's hiding behind it."
Linda laughed—a sound filled with nostalgia. "So did I, you know."
I blinked.
"When we first met," she continued, "I didn't want to open my heart either. I was afraid of what it meant to be seen."
She hesitated, as if about to say something more.
"Rio," she began—
And then—
The light shifted.
The white space stirred again, warmer this time.
A presence descended—not oppressive, not overwhelming, but absolute.
A boy appeared atop a tree branch that hadn't existed a moment ago.
Sixteen years old at most. Barefoot. Relaxed. A calm smile playing on his lips.
A flute rested between his fingers.
He looked… annoyingly peaceful.
"So that's enough," he said lightly. "Any more, and it wouldn't be fair."
Linda turned sharply. "You—!"
He raised a hand. "Not yet."
He looked at me then.
Even without seeing his eyes clearly, I knew.
God.
Not a ruler. Not a judge.
Just… someone who had always been there.
"She'll figure it out on her own," he said gently. "Just like you did."
Linda bit her lip, then nodded.
She turned back to me one last time.
"Live well," she whispered. "That's all I ever wanted."
Her form began to dissolve—softly, like petals carried by the wind.
"Linda—!"
"I'm always with you," her voice echoed faintly. "Just not where you can see."
And then—
She was gone.
The boy played a single note on his flute.
The world faded.
Darkness lifted slowly.
Not all at once—but like mist retreating before the morning sun.
Pain was the first thing I felt.
"…still unconscious?"
"That was two days ago."
Two days?
I opened my eyes.
Mother.Father.King Edward.
"You collapsed," Father said. "A maid heard the thud."
"For two whole days," Mother whispered.
So it wasn't a dream.
I smiled.
"I've decided something."
"I won't forget," I said. "But I won't cling."
"I have a family here."
King Edward nodded.
"Good. Because the capital awaits."
Later, alone again, I stared at the ceiling.
The weight was gone.
Not erased—
Accepted.
Somewhere beyond this world, I knew Linda was watching.
And for the first time—
I was ready to live again.