Laughter escaped before I could stop it. Rough. Broken. More like a scream than anything joyful. Even my own ears barely recognized the sound.
Why am I laughing? I just died.
"Hah… hah—ha—hahaha…"
The sound bounced off the walls, sharp, alien, and wrong. It didn't belong here. And it didn't belong to me.
"I'm… alive."
The words trembled on my lips. Speaking them made me doubt them. How could I be alive? I had felt the cold steel bite, the warmth of blood rushing out, the sudden darkness swallowing everything. Yet here I was.
"I was… dead, wasn't I?"
My chest rose and fell unevenly. Air dragged in, heavy, reluctant. Pushed out, trembling. The rhythm felt uncertain, as if it could stop at any moment. A shiver ran down my spine.
"Just… breathe…"
I forced it. One breath. Then another. Keep it steady. Keep it going. Don't panic.
"I was stabbed… right here…"
My hand pressed against my chest. Searching for pain. For blood. For proof. The memory burned bright, sharper than any present sensation: the steel piercing, the warm rush spilling out, the cold inevitability of death.
"I felt it… I know I did…"
But my skin was smooth. Unbroken. No wound. No scar. No blood. Nothing.
"It was right there…"
All I could feel was a heartbeat. Slow. Strange. Unfamiliar. Defiant. Refusing to match the memory screaming in my mind.
"What happened to me…?"
Death had etched itself into my memory. Vivid. Final. Yet here I was. Breathing. Alive. Impossible.
"Then why am I breathing…?"
I should be dead. My lungs shouldn't move. My heart shouldn't beat. And yet, they do.
I pushed myself upright. The sheets slid beneath me, soft and warm, nothing like the rough ground where I had died. The faint scent of perfume made me wrinkle my nose.
"These sheets…"
The bed was too clean. Too soft. Too human. Too… delicate.
"I didn't die on a bed like this…"
The air was sweet, tinged with a floral aroma. It reminded me of nothing I had known. Not blood. Not cold steel. Nothing.
"This isn't my room…"
Unease crawled up my spine. The curtains were tall and heavy, rich with embroidery. Furniture polished to a shine reflected light from a crystal chandelier. Even the walls seemed perfect, painted with precision. Everything here was too refined. Too… alien.
"…Did I wake up in a princess's bedroom?"
I noticed something else.
My voice.
"Why do I sound like this…?"
Softer. Lighter. Not mine. I swallowed hard. Panic coiled in my chest.
"Something's wrong…"
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My body felt strange. Too light. Fragile. Almost weightless.
"Why do I feel so light…?"
My feet touched the cold floor. Real. Sharp. The chill ran through me, making my teeth chatter. The floor beneath me felt foreign, smooth, unnervingly clean.
A small table nearby held a bowl of water. My reflection loomed over it.
"I need to look…"
I leaned closer, every movement slow, deliberate, almost afraid. The surface trembled beneath my fingers. I froze.
"That's not… me."
Black hair tumbled over pale shoulders. The face in the reflection… unfamiliar. Too delicate. Too small. Too fragile.
"This isn't my face. That face belongs to a girl…"
The eyes staring back mirrored the fear clawing at my chest. Wide. Unblinking. Perfectly copying every movement I made. Yet… this wasn't me.
"Wake up… wake up…"
Nothing changed. Smooth skin. Fragile frame. Wrong.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
My hands shook uncontrollably. I tried to calm them. Tried to force reason into a situation that had no logic.
"Stop shaking…"
This wasn't just another body. This was someone else's life. Someone else's danger. Someone else's death that could still reach me.
"Whose body is this…?"
The room tilted. Images spun in my mind. Names, faces, places I had never known. Memories that were not mine.
One name kept surfacing, like a whispered echo.
"Rynvaris…"
Pain stabbed through my skull. I dropped to my knees.
This wasn't my life. This wasn't my body. And yet, I could do nothing. Couldn't run. Couldn't hide. Couldn't even call for help.
"I won't die again… I'll survive…"
Slowly, painfully, I forced myself up. Legs trembling, holding. Eyes darted around the room, taking in the smallest details—the embroidery of the curtains, the intricate carvings on the furniture, the faint dust motes drifting in the sunlight.
"So this is me now…"
The words no longer carried denial. Quiet. Steady. Fragile. But real. This was my reality. My prison. My battlefield. I had to accept it.
A candle flickered. The faint warmth touched my skin. The air shifted slightly, and I felt it—someone was near.
"I can feel it… someone's here…"
The presence was subtle. Restrained. Real. Too close.
Footsteps. Careful. Slow. Clack. Clack.
My chest tightened. Weak. Confused. Barely understanding this body. Discovery now would be dangerous.
Clack. Clack.
"Please… don't be an enemy…"
The door creaked open.
Who… is she?
My eyes locked onto the figure entering the room.
Wait… I know this feeling.
A faint, blurry image surfaced in my mind—someone standing beside this princess, adjusting her clothes, bringing her tea, whispering softly at her side.
That's right… she's from her memories. The real Rynvaris's memories. She's… her maid.
So she's not an enemy. At least… not yet. No. I can't be sure of anything.
I don't know this world. I don't know this palace. And I definitely don't know who wants this princess dead.
What should I do?
Think. If they find out she's gone… if they realize I'm not her… I'll die. Again.
Then there's only one choice. I'll pretend. I'll pretend I lost my memory and pull information from her piece by piece. That's the safest way to survive.
"Princess, why have you not prepared yourself yet?"
Princess…? My heart skipped. So that's how they see me.
"My head… it hurts," I said quickly, pressing my palms to my temples. "I can't remember anything. Who are you?"
"I… I am your maid, Moon," she replied, voice trembling slightly.
Moon… Yes… that name. It feels… familiar. Her memories confirm it, faintly. She really is this body's maid.
So she's someone close to the princess. Someone who might protect me. Or someone who might panic and get me killed. I need to be careful.
Moon stepped back, swallowing hard. Eyes wide, as if the floor had shifted beneath her feet.
"You… you don't remember?"
"I… remember what?"
What is she expecting me to know? How much does she think I should remember?
"Your name… your position…" She bit her lip. "You are Princess Elowen Rynvaris. The Eleventh Princess of the Orimvess Empire."
So that part was real. The memories weren't lies.
An Eleventh Princess… That means I'm not even near the top. Too important to ignore. Too unimportant to be protected. A perfect target.
My eyes blinked, uncomprehending.
Moon covered her mouth, hands shaking as fear seeped into her voice.
"No one must know this."
Know what? That the real princess is gone? Or that I've lost my memories?
"Why?"
"You have many enemies," she whispered. "If they sense weakness… they will kill you."
Enemies… So it's true. This body was already walking through a minefield.
I received her memories… but they're faint. Broken. Like pages torn out of a book. I can't see who those enemies are.
But if even her own maid is this afraid… then this palace is a nest of knives.
If she's warning me like this… I need to believe her.
The princess who lived in this body… didn't die peacefully. She was surrounded by danger. And now all of that danger belongs to me.
I froze. Truth struck like a blade. The princess who had lived in this body… was gone. And now, her danger was mine.
A dead princess's life had been thrust into my hands. A life that promised nothing but peril.
And now… I had to survive, not for myself, but for the girl who had disappeared. The girl I had never met, whose life was gone, leaving only me to face the storm.