The storm had passed, but the world still smelled of iron and wet earth.
Countess Eunha Valestria sat before her mirror, the small vial of silver liquid glinting in her hand. She could hear her heart drumming in her chest — a steady beat of fear and need.
> Drink when the past becomes unbearable.
The note's words whispered through her thoughts. She hesitated, watching her reflection — pale, composed, a woman who'd learned to command armies and men alike. Yet behind her eyes flickered a truth she couldn't name.
She uncorked the vial. The scent of rain and steel filled the room.
"Just a drop," she murmured.
The liquid touched her tongue like ice.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the mirror shimmered.
Her reflection blinked — once, twice — and suddenly smiled back at her.
Eunha staggered back as the mirror's surface rippled like water. The reflection moved independently now, lips curling in something cruel.
"You think you changed fate by living again?" the reflection whispered. "You're only walking the same path slower."
"Who are you?" Eunha demanded.
"I am the one who remembers everything you refuse to."
The glass darkened — and she saw it: the night of her death.
Chains. Firelight. A courtyard filled with shouting voices. Jiheon kneeling before her, sword in hand. She remembered that image — his blade rising, her blood staining his armor.
But now the memory shifted.
The sword never struck her.
He had turned — blocking another's blade.
And behind him, the true executioner stepped from the shadows.
Prince Seojin.
Her breath caught. "No…"
Jiheon hadn't killed her. He'd saved her — and died trying to protect her.
The mirror cracked with a sound like thunder.
---
⚜️
Outside, Sir Jiheon Ardent stood under the eaves of the barracks, watching the soldiers train in the gray morning light. He hadn't slept. The assassin's words from the night before echoed in his mind: Ask the Countess. She knows.
He had seen too much — the look in her eyes when he mentioned her loyalty, the way she guarded that letter.
He wasn't a fool. Something was being hidden.
Captain Daejun approached, tossing him an apple. "You look like death."
"Feels mutual," Jiheon said, catching it.
Daejun leaned against the pillar. "The prince has been asking about you. Seems he wants you reassigned."
"Reassigned?"
"To the border. Conveniently far from the Countess."
Jiheon's jaw clenched. "She requested this?"
"No. His Highness did. Claims you're too… 'involved.'"
A long silence.
Then Daejun added, voice low, "Something's off, Jiheon. The prince—he's moving troops from the capital quietly. And last night, one of my informants vanished after mentioning a name: Eunho."
Jiheon looked up sharply. "Eunho?"
Daejun nodded. "Apparently, he's alive. Or someone wants us to think so."
That name — Eunho — sent a chill down Jiheon's spine. He didn't know why, but the sound of it made his memories ache.
---
⚜️
That evening, Prince Seojin arrived unannounced at the Valestria estate.
Eunha met him in the drawing room, every instinct screaming for composure.
He looked radiant as ever — golden hair, eyes too sharp to be kind. "Countess," he said, bowing with mock courtesy. "You've been avoiding me."
"I've been occupied with estate matters," she said.
He walked closer, circling her like a hawk. "Do you know what I admire about you? You lie so beautifully."
Her pulse quickened. "Your Highness—"
"I've heard whispers," he cut in, voice smooth. "About secret letters. Midnight dealings. A knight who follows you like a dog."
Eunha met his gaze coolly. "You must be very bored, to chase gossip."
His smile faltered, revealing the shadow beneath. "Careful, Countess. You think your second chance makes you untouchable? You're still playing my game."
Her nails dug into her palm. "You're wrong. I'm rewriting it."
He laughed — low and cruel. "Then we'll see whose memory lasts longer."
He left her standing in silence, fury burning beneath her calm.
---
⚜️
That night, Jiheon came to her chambers.
"You summoned me, my lady?"
"Yes." She turned, holding the cracked mirror. "I need to know something. Do you… dream of fire?"
He froze. "What?"
"In your sleep — do you see a night filled with fire and screams? A woman in chains?"
His hand trembled before he steadied it. "How do you know that?"
Eunha stepped closer. "Because it wasn't a dream, Jiheon. It was memory."
He stared at her, breath shallow. "You're saying—"
"I died that night. And you were there."
The silence between them was thick, charged, dangerous.
Finally, Jiheon whispered, "I tried to save you."
"I know."
Her voice broke slightly. "All this time I believed you killed me. But it was Seojin. He framed you, made me hate you."
His gaze burned with a mix of relief and rage. "Then he'll pay."
Eunha shook her head. "Not yet. We need proof. We need allies."
Jiheon stepped closer, so close she could feel the warmth of him. "And what do you need from me?"
"Loyalty."
He smiled faintly. "You already have that."
But her eyes met his, steady and sharp. "No, Jiheon. I need something deeper. I need your memory to return — because soon, we'll be fighting not just for the future… but for the truth of our past."
---
As Jiheon left, the moonlight fell on the shattered mirror.
For a heartbeat, the reflection moved again — smiling faintly.
> "You've begun to remember, my knight. But memory is a double-edged blade."
And somewhere in the shadows of the city, a cloaked figure read a letter sealed in black wax.
> "Phase One complete. She remembers."
— E.