The rain began before dawn — slow at first, then relentless. It drummed against the glass of the Valestria estate, filling the halls with a rhythm too steady to be comforting.
Countess Eunha Valestria sat by the window, tracing raindrops with her fingertip as Mirae entered carrying a sealed letter.
"This arrived an hour ago, milady," Mirae said, setting it down gently. "No crest, no courier mark."
Eunha eyed the seal — black wax stamped with a symbol she hadn't seen in years. A serpent coiled around a mirror.
Her voice lowered. "Leave me."
When Mirae left, Eunha broke the seal. Inside, the parchment was scented faintly of myrrh and ink. A single line, written in a familiar hand, read:
> 'You are not the only one who remembers. — E.'
Her breath caught. The ink felt alive beneath her touch. Whoever wrote this knew not just her secret — but the past she thought belonged only to the gods.
She folded the letter quickly, eyes narrowing.
If another had returned with her memories, the game just changed.
---
⚜️
In the training yard, Sir Jiheon Ardent drove his blade into a post until the wood splintered. The visions had grown worse. Each night, he woke drenched in sweat, hearing her scream — not the Countess as she was now, but another version of her: robed in white, bound, surrounded by flame.
He had stood there. Watching. Sword in hand.
"Sir Ardent," came a voice behind him.
Captain Daejun Kareth strode across the rain-slick ground, cloak darkened by the storm. "You've been avoiding drills. The prince noticed."
"I've been training alone."
"Alone is where mistakes breed."
Daejun stopped close enough that Jiheon could smell the wine on his breath. "You're losing focus. Tell me, what's her hold on you?"
Jiheon straightened. "She's my liege lady."
Daejun chuckled. "And you believe that's all it is? Don't play the saint with me. I've seen the way you look at her — like a man remembering something he shouldn't."
Jiheon's grip on his sword tightened. "Careful, Captain."
"Or what? You'll draw steel on the man who saved your life? You think she's worth that?"
The words hung heavy.
Daejun's smirk softened into something colder. "You weren't reborn for her, Jiheon. You were made for obedience. Don't forget who gave you purpose when you had none."
When Daejun turned to leave, Jiheon's voice came low and dangerous. "And if my purpose was a lie?"
The captain paused, then said without looking back, "Then pray you never find the truth."
---
⚜️
That evening, Eunha summoned Jiheon to her private study. The letter lay hidden beneath a book of court law.
"Sir Ardent," she said, standing beside the fire, "I have a task for you."
"Name it."
"I need you to retrieve a package from the Midnight Market — discreetly. No insignia, no escort. Bring it to me unopened."
He frowned. "That market is run by the Black Quill Syndicate. Why would a Countess need them?"
She met his gaze, unflinching. "Because some truths are not kept in palaces, but in the gutters beneath them."
He nodded. "Then I'll go at dusk."
"Be cautious. The Syndicate doesn't trade in gold — only in secrets."
He bowed, but before turning away, he asked quietly, "Who's the letter from, my lady?"
Her pause was too long. "No one that concerns you."
His jaw flexed, but he said nothing.
When he left, Eunha pressed a hand to her temple. She hated lying to him — yet the truth was a weapon she couldn't afford him to hold.
If E. was who she suspected — Eunho, her half-brother — then the empire was standing on a powder keg. He had died years before her last life ended. If he remembered too, he'd know everything: her death, Jiheon's betrayal, the prince's treachery.
And that meant he could ruin everything.
---
⚜️
The Midnight Market sprawled beneath the city like a hidden artery, pulsing with life and danger. Lanterns burned blue, smoke curled through the narrow alleys, and whispers of forbidden magic followed Jiheon as he walked.
He found the Black Quill stall easily — a wooden counter covered in sealed scrolls and glass vials. Behind it stood a masked merchant.
"Name," the merchant said.
"Sir Ardent."
The merchant chuckled. "Knights don't usually shop here."
"I'm not here to shop."
The merchant reached under the counter and pulled out a small, locked chest bound with crimson thread. "This was left for your mistress. Payment's already made. But she should be warned — whoever sent this bleeds knowledge that shouldn't exist."
"What's in it?"
"Answers," the merchant said. "Or damnation. Sometimes both."
Before Jiheon could respond, a blade grazed the back of his neck.
"Hands up," a voice growled.
He turned slowly to find three cloaked figures closing in, weapons drawn.
Assassins.
They moved fast, but he was faster. His sword flashed once, twice — clean, efficient. Two went down before the third lunged. Jiheon disarmed him with a twist and slammed him against a post.
"Who sent you?"
The man spat blood. "Ask the Countess. She knows."
Then he bit down on something — and went still.
Jiheon stared at the lifeless body, heart pounding. His loyalty was being tested — by enemies, by the court, by the woman he served.
He took the chest and left without another word.
---
⚜️
When he returned to the estate, Eunha was waiting in her chambers, dressed in midnight blue.
"You're hurt," she said, seeing the blood on his sleeve.
"Not mine." He set the chest down. "You were right. Someone wanted it intercepted."
Her eyes flicked to the lock. "Did you open it?"
"No. I don't betray orders."
That earned him a faint smile. "Then you're a rare man, Sir Ardent."
As he turned to leave, she said softly, "Do you ever wonder, Jiheon, what makes you so loyal to someone you barely know?"
He paused at the door. "Maybe I knew you once."
Her throat tightened. "And if you did?"
"Then I must have failed you."
When he was gone, Eunha sat before the chest for a long moment before unlocking it. Inside, instead of gold or scrolls, was a single glass vial filled with shimmering silver liquid — and a note.
> Drink when the past becomes unbearable. It will show you what you've lost.
Her hands trembled. She could almost feel the echo of her old self — the pain, the fire, the betrayal.
And in that moment, Eunha Valestria decided something dangerous.
She would drink it.
But not yet.
First, she needed to see whether Sir Jiheon Ardent remembered enough to love her — or enough to kill her again.