[Divine Library—Lavinia’s POV]
The diary quivered in my hands as though it resented being touched. My pulse hamred, every part of screaming not to open it—yet my fingers moved on their own.
The handwriting. It wasn’t Papa’s.
My heart lurched. Those strokes—sharp but careful, steady even when the ink bled—I knew them. I would know them anywhere.
"Ravick..." I breathed.
After Papa, there had always been Ravick. He had been my shadow, my shield, my second father. He had taught to hold a quill when my fingers were still too small and had knelt beside as I traced my first letters. Those hands had steadied mine. Those letters had always been full of warmth.
And now... that sa handwriting stared back at from a book that should not exist. I felt myself tremble. The air grew heavy, the silence pressing against my skull as I began to read.
"Today we found... His Majesty has a daughter. I cannot forget his stunned expression. The princess looks exactly like him. Finally, His Majesty will not be alone anymore. He has a family now. I shall serve the princess with all my heart."
My lips twitched into a faint smile—small, bitter, and broken. For one heartbeat, I was eight again, clutching Ravick’s sleeve.
But the next page made my smile die.
"How... how can His Majesty say sothing so cruel to a child? She is rely eight years old and... he called her ’stain.’ How can His Majesty call the princess that?"
The words struck like a blade. My hands shook violently, the parchnt crinkling under my grip.
Stain.
The word echoed through my skull, dragging mories I didn’t want to rember—mories of a voice, cold and distant, dripping that sa poison. Emperor Cassius. Papa. My father.
"No..." My whisper cracked, a splinter of sound in the cavernous hush. "No, he never—he wouldn’t—"
But deep down, I knew. I had heard it before. In a book I didn’t rember reading. In a life I didn’t rember living.
My breath hitched as I turned another page.
"I can see the pain in His Majesty’s eyes. He does not wish to hurt the princess but... what can a broken father give to his daughter? Yet I believe the princess never deserved to be neglected. His Majesty said, ’If she stays with ... she will disgust , Ravick. She will be scared of and hate . So it is better to cast her aside. Just make sure she gets what she wants.’"
My throat closed. Tears blurred the ink.
Cast aside.
I pressed a hand against my chest, as if I could hold the pieces of myself together. Papa’s voice—my father’s voice—repeated those words inside my skull.
I turned the page, desperate and sick.
"Today the princess is set to be engaged to Grand Duke Osric. She seems happy. I hope Lord Osric gives her everything. I hope she really finds her happiness."
A tremor ran through . Osric. His na cracked like thunder inside my head.
And just like that, I kept reading. I couldn’t stop. Every line was a mirror reflecting back the life I thought I’d only imagined—a story, a novel, a lie. Grand Duke Regis’s death. Osric’s grandfather is dead. Osric leaving for war. Him choosing Eleania over . My hatred. My jealousy. My death—poison in a glass of juice from Caelum’s hand.
Everything. Exactly the sa.
Tears spilled down my cheeks, dripping onto Ravick’s ink. My vision swam as I turned the next page.
"His Majesty has lost his temper... he is killing every noble and every knight after the princess’s death. I need to find a way. I need to stop him. I recall His Majesty telling the story of the First Emperor and how he brought his daughter back. He said he felt absurd as he read the First Emperor’s diary. But if it’s true... then we can turn ti to bring the princess back too."
I froze.
Bring back. Bring back.
The words rang through my mind like a tolling bell. And the next page was blank.
Just like the First Emperor. Just like Lilith.
. . .
. . .
"So...I was brought back?"
The diary slipped from my hands and thudded onto the marble. My knees gave out, the cold seeping into my skin as I slumped to the floor.
My chest rose and fell in jagged bursts. My hands clawed at my dress, at my own skin, as if I could peel away the mories pressing against from every side.
Now that I realize from the mont I was born, I had known the palace corridors and the nas of people I had never t. I had known who would betray , who would love , and who would die.
Was it because I had lived it?
Was I because I had died and was living twice?
"I..." My voice ca out as a strangled gasp. "...who am I?"
Reina Suzuki. Lavinia Devereux.
Two nas. Two lives. Two sets of mories bleeding into each other until I could no longer tell which one was real.
Had I truly turned back ti? Or had soone else done it for ?
If yes, then what about Reina Suzuki?
My breath hitched, uneven, the library spinning around . I clutched my head, nails digging into my scalp as the truth crashed over , wave after wave.
I had been abandoned once. By my father. By Osric. By the life I thought was mine. And now here I was again—caught between two lives, two nas, and two truths.
"I don’t know..." My voice broke into a sob. "...I don’t know who I am anymore."
The diaries lood above , silent sentinels, watching as my world cracked apart. I curled in on myself, shaking. The cold marble bit into my palms. My tears soaked the floor.
For the first ti in my whole life. I felt small. Small and lost and unbearably alone.
I rembered the vision during my divine benediction—the glimpse of Papa’s grief. My voice trembled."So... was that really Papa’s mory?"
And then him. Rey.
My heart clenched. I stumbled to my feet, clutching at the shelves for balance."Rey... I need to et Rey—"
I turned—and froze.
There he was, leaning against the shadowed corner of the library as though he had been waiting for all along. His presence was too calm, too knowing, and far too out of place in this sanctum ant for imperials alone.
He stepped forward slowly, his eyes unreadable."You don’t look surprised to see here, Princess. Even though this is a place where only emperors and their blood may walk."
I stared, my throat tight.
"So... you’re the Supre Archmage."
A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it wasn’t his usual mocking smirk—it was heavier, almost mournful. "I have been waiting for this day... the day you uncovered the truth."
The truth. The words cut deeper than the diary ever had.
My fists trembled. "Did you... did you turn back ti, Rey?"
For a long, aching heartbeat, he said nothing. His gaze darkened, and the silence pressed down like a weight. Finally, he whispered, "It wasn’t . It was the power of Rakshar."
I flinched. "Marshi...?"
His voice softened. "Yes, and since you are Rakshar’s master... it chose to protect you. To save you."
I furrowed, "Save ?"
He cut off with a faint, sorrowful smile. "Marshi never t you in your last life, Princess. Your destiny was stolen and so was he."
My chest ached. "What are you saying...?"
Rey’s eyes glimred like frozen starlight as he stepped closer, his words laced with quiet anguish."Your fate was stolen. In your last life, what should have been yours—your crown, your love, your father’s protection—all of it was stripped away. Twisted. Handed to Marquess Everett and... Eleania."
My breath caught, fury and grief warring in . "Stolen... fate?"
Rey’s lips curved, but the smile was bitter.
"Yes. What you should have had, they lived instead. And Marshi..." His gaze flickered with sothing unspoken, almost pity. "...Marshi bore the price of it. In ways you cannot yet imagine."
I clutched my chest, my nails digging into my skin. "What do you an? How did Marshi suffer?"
The air grew colder. My breath fogged in the dim light as Rey’s voice dropped to a whisper that seed to seep into my very bones.
"Princess... you are not the only one who died in despair."
I froze.
His eyes did not waver, but in them I saw sothing ancient, sothing broken. "Your father... your destined partner..." His words dragged, as though each one carried unbearable weight. "...and your Marshi."
My heart clenched. My knees buckled, but I forced myself upright, my voice breaking. "What do you an...? What are you saying?"
Rey’s gaze flickered, shadowed with regret so heavy it almost looked like grief. For once, his lips did not twist in a smirk. Instead, they trembled.
"They all suffered," he whispered. "Each of them... in ways you cannot yet imagine."
Silence pressed down around us. My pulse thundered in my ears. "Because of what?" I demanded, my voice raw, my tears blurring him into sothing ghostlike.
Rey shut his eyes briefly, as if bracing himself against the words. And when he spoke again, they fell like the strike of a blade:
"...because of ."
The silence that followed was deafening.
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