The silence that followed the departure of the voices in the hall was deafening.
Lyanna sat on the edge of the large, fur-draped bed, her hands gripping the rough linens until her knuckles turned white.
Her mind was a chaotic whirlpool of logic battling impossibility.
A single thought finally surfaced, cutting through the fog of her confusion like a blade. Wait, am I the Luna they are talking about?
The pieces of the puzzle were starting to click together in a way that made her stomach churn.
The hospital room, the twenty third birthday wish, the feeling of her life slipping away—it had all been real. But this? This was something she had only ever seen in the pages of the novels she used to read to escape her sterile reality.
Did I actually reincarnate? Did my birthday wish really come true?
She shook her head violently, the movement making the dizziness return for a fleeting second.
"It doesn't make any sense," she whispered to the empty, stone-walled room.
"None of this makes even a shred of sense. I am from the year 2026. I grew up in a world of skyscrapers, smart phones, and advanced medicine. I was a Blackwood, a woman whose entire life was governed by biology and chemistry."
"Everything in my world could be explained by science and data. Can someone please explain to me how reincarnation is suddenly a part of the laws of physics?"
But as she looked around the room again—noting the lack of electrical outlets, the smell of woodsmoke, and the absolute absence of anything modern—her protests felt hollow.
No matter how much she tried to deny it, reincarnation was the only plausible explanation for why she was sitting in a medieval room with a head wound that was supposedly healing at an impossible rate.
She forced herself to stand up. This time, she was more cautious. She moved slowly, planting her feet firmly on the wooden floorboards.
She realized that her initial stumble hadn't been a sign of her old illness. She wasn't weak and frail anymore.
She had simply stood up too quickly for a body that had been in a coma for two weeks.
Once she found her balance, she felt a surge of strength she had never known in her previous life. Her legs felt solid. Her lungs felt clear.
She walked toward the mirror in the corner, her heart hammering against her ribs. When she finally stood before the yellowish, antique glass, her jaw dropped.
She couldn't have closed it even if she tried. In her previous life, Lyanna had been considered a beauty, though it was a pale, sickly beauty defined by her fragility.
But the woman staring back at her now was on an entirely different level. Comparing her old self to this new body was like comparing a common pebble to a flawless diamond.
She looked like she had stepped directly out of a fairytale. Her skin was like porcelain, glowing with a health she had never possessed.
Her hair was a deep, rich shade of chestnut, looking supple and incredibly long. It reached all the way down to her buttocks in a cascading wave of silk.
Even with the leaf paste and the dried blood on her forehead, her beauty was so radiant it felt almost supernatural.
This wasn't just a new body; it was a masterpiece.
Seeing this unfamiliar, breathtaking face was the final nail in the coffin of her denial. It was confirmed.
As impossible as it sounded, she had been given a second chance in a world that defied everything she knew about reality.
As she was still standing there, lost in the reflection of her new self, the heavy wooden door creaked open.
Two young women entered. Based on their simple tunics and the way they carried themselves, Lyanna immediately pegged them as maids.
She turned to face them, looking them up and down with a cold, analytical gaze. Within seconds, she heard a small snicker escape her own lips.
She found it almost funny. Back home, the Blackwood name commanded absolute silence and respect.
Here, she had heard these two girls gossiping about her like she was a piece of trash.
She wondered how low the original owner of this body must have fallen in the eyes of the people for mere servants to feel comfortable mocking her life while standing just outside her door.
The maids froze, their eyes wide with genuine shock. They clearly hadn't expected to find her standing, let alone staring at them with such intensity.
One of them, a girl who looked no older than nineteen, managed to find her voice.
"Luna... you're awake," the girl said.
Despite the title, there was no respect in the girl's voice. Her tone was flat, almost annoyed, as if Lyanna's recovery was an inconvenience to her day.
Lyanna didn't bother to answer.
She just stood there, tall and silent, watching them.
An uncomfortable tension began to fill the room.
The two maids started shifting their weight, avoiding her gaze.