Aric blinked, the world around him surreal but undeniably real.
The opulent room shimmered in golden sunlight streaming through the balcony doors, casting long shadows across the marble floor.
His gaze flickered between the woman before him—the silver-haired duchess whose very existence seemed too perfect to belong in this broken reality and the screen where Ivy now stood, her red hair glowing faintly against the digital void.
But something was off about Ivy.
She changed very subtly—not her red hair or those piercing amber eyes—but there was an undeniable shift.
Her form had softened slightly, her tone as well, she's more feminine curves accentuating her figure. Her posture carried an air of quiet elegance now, as if she were mimicking the duchess standing mere feet away.
And when she tilted her head, her lips curling into a smirk, Aric felt a strange mix of confusion and irritation bubbling inside him.
What are you doing? he thought sharply, glaring at her through the corner of his mind.
[Just adjustments.]
Her voice echoed in his thoughts, smooth and unapologetic.
[I'd say that's an improvement, wouldn't you think so?]
I don't need distractions right now. he shot back with irritation creeping into his mental tone.
[Oh, but isn't distraction part of the fun?] She chuckled softly, her expression playful.
[You seem… drawn to certain aesthetics. I'm simply adapting. Besides, it's not like anyone else can see me.]
Aric clenched his jaw,
Of course, she'd noticed how I looked at this woman.. I mean how could I not?
The duchess, Seraphina, radiated power, beauty, and an intoxicating aura that made even breathing feel like a challenge.
But having Ivy mirror her? That was pushing boundaries he didn't have time for.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he accidentally said out loud.
The duchess raised an eyebrow, her blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"Like what?" she asked coolly, her tone carrying with authority.
He faltered, realizing too late that his words hadn't been directed at her.
"Nothing.." he said quickly, forcing a neutral expression onto his face.
Seraphina studied him for a moment longer before turning her attention back to the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest. There was tension in her stance—something unreadable buried beneath layers of practiced composure.
Whatever connection they have, it wasn't warmth radiating from her now.
It was duty. Obligation. Sternness wrapped in silk.
Aric swallowed hard, shifting awkwardly as he sat up in bed.
His body felt foreign, muscles responding instinctively despite the disorientation swirling in his mind. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet firmly on the cold marble floor. The sensation sent a jolt through him, grounding him momentarily.
And then it hit him.
The memories—or rather, the lack thereof.
Panic surged through his veins like wildfire, choking off any semblance of calm.
He scrambled to his feet, heart pounding wildly against his ribs.
His hands flew to his forehead,
"I don't remember anything!" he gasped, stumbling backward until his back collided with a gilded mirror mounted on the wall.
"What happened to me?"
His reflection stared back at him, wide-eyed and pale. Black hair framed sharp features, offset by piercing grey eyes that held none of the recognition he desperately sought.
He looked younger than he remembered—22, perhaps—but there was no trace of familiarity in his own face.
"No…" he whispered hoarsely, clawing at his neck as though trying to tear away the suffocating weight of amnesia.
"No, no, no…"
[Aric.]
Ivy's voice cut through the chaos in his mind,
[Calm down. You're fine. Well, relatively speaking.]
I'm NOT fine! he snapped mentally, his thoughts a chaotic storm.
I don't know who I am! What's happening to me?!
[You're adjusting. This body has its own history—one you'll uncover soon enough. But panicking won't help.]
Aric ignored her, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he gripped the edges of the mirror.
Behind him, Seraphina let out a harsh laugh, her voice dripping with venom.
"Oh, please. Spare me the drama."
He whirled around, chest heaving as he glared at her. "What...?"
She walked towards him, her movements deliberate and predatory. Each step emphasized the hypnotic sway of her hips, the curve of her figure accentuated by the fitted dress clinging to her like a second skin.
When she reached him, she shoved his shoulders roughly, forcing him back against the mirror.
"You think I don't see through this bullshit?" she spat, leaning in close. Her blue eyes burned with hatred, every word laced with contempt.
"Amnesia? How convenient. Is this another one of your games, Vayne? Another pathetic attempt to avoid responsibility?"
Aric flinched under her assault, both physical and verbal.
"Vayne? I'm telling the truth!" he insisted, his voice trembling.
"I don't remember anything!"
She shoved him again, harder this time, making the mirror rattle behind him.
"Liar!" she snarled, her voice rising.
"Do you really expect me to believe that!? After everything you've done—after all the pain you've caused—you suddenly forget who you are? Don't insult me."
Her hands balled into fists at her sides, trembling with fury.
"You ruined my life, Vayne. Do you understand that? Every decision you made, every reckless act—it shattered everything I worked for. And now you stand here pretending to be some innocent victim? Pathetic. Fucking pathetic."
Aric recoiled, stunned by the raw hatred in her voice.
"I… I didn't ask for this" he stammered, raising his hands defensively.
"I swear, I don't know what's goin-"
"Save it!" she snapped, cutting him off mid-sentence.
"I don't care anymore. You want answers? Fine. Your name is Vayne Arkwright. We've been married for two years—a mistake I regret every single day."
Her words struck him like daggers, each syllable slicing deeper than the last.
Regret. Hatred. Disdain. It was all there, laid bare in her icy glare.
"And let me make one thing clear." she continued, stepping closer until their faces were inches apart.
"Stay out of my life. Stay out of our estate."
Aric opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. The weight of her rejection pressed down on him.
She hates this Vayne. Like truly, deeply hates him. And worse, she didn't care whether he lived or died. But I'm not him!
With one final sneer, she turned on her heel and marched toward the door. Her hand rested on the doorknob, pausing briefly before she added, almost dismissively,
"Don't bother following me."
And with that, she was gone, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind her.
Aric stood frozen, his mind racing.
I'm married, well this body is to a woman who loathed me with every fiber of her being.
[Well, this is quite the predicament, isn't it?]
Ivy's voice broke through his spiralling thoughts, her tone equal parts amused and sympathetic.
Don't start. he muttered darkly, sinking onto the edge of the bed.
[Oh, come now. It's not all bad. At least you're starting fresh—with a beautiful wife, no less.]
Fresh? He barked a humourless laugh, rubbing his eyes.
I don't even know who I am anymore. Who this body and worse, I have a hot wife who HATES me.
[That's what makes it exciting.]
He shot her a glare,
Exciting? Are you kidding me? I'm stuck in some luxurious nightmare with a woman who despises me, and I don't even know why.
[Maybe that's the point.]
Her response caught him off guard.
What do you mean?
[Think about it. You died, Aric. Or rather, Vayne did. Something—or someone—brought you back here for a reason. Maybe it's not about remembering. Maybe it's about becoming something new.]
Her words lingered in his mind, unsettling yet oddly comforting.
Becoming something new. Was that possible?
Could he shed the failures of his past life and forge a different path in this one?
For now, though, exhaustion claimed him. His body slumped against the plush sheets, limbs heavy with fatigue.
As his eyelids drooped, he caught one last glimpse of Ivy on the screen, her red hair catching the light.