Derick stood in the hallway, listening.
Beyond the door, he heard Liora's voice—soft, unsure, laughing at something someone said. She was with the other girls again. The lightness in her voice was something he hadn't heard in a long time.
But all he felt was dread.
He should be happy she was smiling… but all it did was remind him that she didn't remember.
Not yet.
And when she did—when those memories came rushing back—would she hate him? Would she fear him?
He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, fighting back the storm inside.
He wasn't ready for her to remember the way she died.
Inside the room, Liora sat by the window with Elle and Mischa. The curtains were pulled back, letting the sun spill in, painting the floor with gold. But even the warmth didn't shake the chill in her chest.
She turned to Elle. "Do you ever… feel like something's missing?"
Elle blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Liora hesitated, "like you've lived another life. Like there's something you should remember, but can't."
Mischa tilted her head. "You've been having those dreams again?"
Liora nodded slowly. "Yes. And lately, they're getting clearer. I see the same boy every time… He always looks so sad. He's holding someone—someone who looks like me. And there's blood everywhere."
Mischa's face fell. "That sounds terrifying."
"It is," Liora whispered. "But it also feels… real."
Later that evening, Nanami found Derick in the training hall, swinging a wooden sword again and again. His hands were raw, his eyes distant.
"You'll break your bones at this rate," she warned.
"I've felt worse," he muttered.
Nanami crossed her arms. "You're pushing everyone away. Even Liora. What are you so afraid of?"
Derick didn't answer.
"You care about her," she said.
He stopped swinging.
"She's starting to care about you too, you know. But you're acting like she's the enemy."
"She's not," he snapped, then lowered his voice. "She's not. But I am."
Nanami looked at him for a long time. "You still think you're the monster from your past life?"
"I don't think it," he said bitterly. "I know it."
That night, Seraphina sat at her vanity, brushing her hair in long, even strokes. Her reflection smiled back at her with cold eyes.
Vance leaned against the doorway behind her. "He's getting too close to her."
"Let him," Seraphina said calmly. "It makes things easier."
"You're planning something."
"Of course." She turned to face him. "Let them fall into the illusion of safety. Of comfort. Then I'll crush it."
Vance raised an eyebrow. "What if your sister remembers everything?"
"Then she'll wish she hadn't," Seraphina said with a chilling smile. "She has no place in this world. And neither does he."
The next day, a messenger arrived at the estate with an invitation: a spring masquerade at the Duke's mansion. All the noble families were expected to attend.
Liora read the invitation, her hands shaking slightly.
Masquerades always made her uneasy. The masks. The games. The secrets.
She turned to Derick, who had just walked in.
"You're going, right?" she asked quietly.
Derick nodded. "Of course. I'll be your shadow."
Liora's heart skipped. "You don't have to watch over me all the time."
"I'm not doing it because I have to," he said, looking away. "I'm doing it because I want to."
Her cheeks turned pink. "Oh…"
The ballroom was filled with light and music. Liora wore a flowing blue dress that shimmered under the chandeliers. Her mask was soft silver, hiding half her face.
But nothing could hide the way her eyes searched the room—for him.
When Derick entered, dressed in black and gold, her breath caught. His mask only covered one side of his face, and his eyes—dark blue and sharp—met hers the moment he walked in.
They danced once. Just once.
But the way his hand held hers… the way he looked at her…
It was like time folded in on itself.
For a second, it felt like something ancient—something old and broken—had come back to life.
Later, Liora found herself alone on the balcony, her heart thudding in her chest.
Derick stepped out beside her.
"You shouldn't be alone," he said.
"I'm not," she whispered. "Not when you're here."
He said nothing.
She turned to him. "Why do I feel like I've known you forever?"
His lips parted, but no words came out.
Liora reached up, touching his cheek.
"I think I loved you," she said. "Before all this. In another life."
His eyes burned.
"I… I can't…" he whispered.
"Why not?"
"Because if I let you in—if I let myself feel again—" he choked, "I'll lose everything."
"You won't lose me."
"But I'll lose my purpose. I'll forget what they did. I'll forget how much I hate them."
"Then maybe it's time to stop hating," she said, stepping closer.
Their faces were inches apart.
Her lips brushed his—
But then—
A scream cut through the air.
A servant burst onto the balcony, breathless.
"Your Grace—Liora—it's your sister. Seraphina… she's gone."
Derick froze.
Liora's heart dropped. "Gone?"
The servant nodded. "And she left this."
He handed them a folded note.
Derick opened it.
His eyes narrowed as he read:
If you want her alive… come alone.