The palace halls glittered with gold and crimson. Silk banners embroidered with threads of sunlight swayed gently as attendants flitted about, carrying trays of jasmine tea and crystal vases filled with freshly cut cherry blossoms.
Laughter echoed across the corridors, a cheerful counterpoint to the weight pressing against Han Seorin's chest.
Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. Today, she would marry the crown prince—the future of the empire, the man whose name would forever be linked with hers.
And yet… the happiness never came.
A sharp, searing pain twisted through her stomach, sudden and cruel. Her knees wobbled as a wave of nausea swept over her. She had assumed it was nerves, the trembling anticipation of a bride's first step into the life of royalty. But when the warm, metallic taste filled her mouth, and crimson coated her lips, she knew it was something far worse.
Blood.
Her hands, once so steady, shook violently as she clutched the edge of the silk-draped table. The scent of iron mingled with the delicate cherry blossoms, a grotesque contrast that made her stomach turn again.
"She… she cannot appear in the ceremony," one of the attendants whispered, urgency shaking her voice.
"Move her quickly! The emperor must not know!" another barked.
They acted with a practiced precision, lifting her fragile body like she weighed nothing.
Panic clouded Seorin's mind. She tried to protest, tried to speak, but her tongue felt heavy, and the blood choked her voice.
Then she saw her cousin—her beloved companion, the one she had treated as a twin sister—being hurriedly adorned in the ceremonial robes meant for Seorin herself. The realization struck like a knife: her place at the altar would be stolen, her life rewritten by hands that had promised loyalty.
"My… sister?" she rasped, disbelief and betrayal roaring through her.
The attendants avoided her gaze. One muttered, "She will take your place at the altar. You… you must remain hidden. If anyone sees…"
Seorin's breath hitched. Her mind raced. Who would do this? Who could betray me?
The last moments of her first life felt surreal, a cruel masquerade. Every whisper, every forced smile, every careful step she had taken within the palace now revealed itself as a stage designed to trap her.
She had been naive. Too trusting. Too certain that her heart could read those around her.
If she had known, she would have never let this happen.
Blood continued to trickle from her lips, staining the pale silk of her sleeve, and with it, a deep, suffocating fear settled into her bones. She tried to rise, to reach for her fate, but the pain was unbearable.
She fell to the floor, clutching at the smooth marble tiles, wishing with all her heart that she had more time. More time to uncover the lies. To protect her family. To protect herself.
The world outside the hidden room carried on. Outside, the palace glimmered in the sunlight, courtiers laughed, and music filled the air as though nothing was wrong. But inside, Seorin lay crumpled, abandoned to the shadows, her life slipping away with each shallow breath.
She tried to focus on her thoughts, on anything but the rising panic. If only… she wished for just one more chance. One more chance to see clearly, to fight back, to prevent the betrayal that had cost her everything.
But her vision blurred, darkness creeping across the edges of her sight like ink spilling in water.
Her last memories were shards of regret and resolve. The faint image of her cousin—so close, so familiar—smiling with someone else's future in her hands. The shadow of the crown prince, waiting for a bride who would never be her. The cold, unyielding walls that had become both her prison and her grave.
A whisper escaped her lips, trembling but resolute:
I will not be so naive again. If I am given another chance… I will uncover the truth. I will protect my family. I will protect myself. And I will not let this fate claim me again.
The world went black. The last snow of winter fell silently outside, covering the palace in pristine white, a cruel contrast to the crimson that stained her world inside.
Seorin's body collapsed fully, hidden away from prying eyes. In death, she felt the bitter sting of betrayal. She had been the bride, the chosen one, and yet her life was erased quietly, efficiently, so that the empire's honor remained intact. No one would know the truth of the main bride who had been poisoned, no one except the shadows that now claimed her.
And yet, somewhere deep within her soul, a spark remained. A tiny, indomitable ember that would not die.
Even in death, Han Seorin's story had not ended.