It hurt. Before she even opened her eyes, the first thing Archel felt was the pain in her chest. Somewhere in her heart—where Kael's sword had pierced her—it felt as though a fire were burning.
She slowly opened her eyes and reached toward her chest. The feel of silk curled around her fingers.
The familiar ceiling... In other words, this was the imperial private chamber Archel had used before marrying Kael. She had loved the room because sunlight streamed in through its large windows, but Kael needed darkness to sleep soundly. After they began sharing a room, she had stopped using it.
Judging by the bluish light filtering in, it seemed to be early morning, just before dawn had fully broken.
Still clutching her aching chest, Archel sat up. The loose white silk nightgown was the same style she had worn only before her marriage. Slowly looking around, Archel rolled her eyes from one thing to the next without saying a word. She was trying to understand what had happened.
When Archel pulled up her clothes and examined her bare skin, she saw a smooth body without a single scar.
“What...?”
Knock knock.
At that moment, someone knocked. Archel flinched and stiffened, staring at the door.
“Your Majesty, are you awake?”
The familiar voice belonged to Verosa, her secretary and the head attendant of the Imperial Court.
The peaceful atmosphere, as if nothing had happened, felt suspicious.
“...Come in.”
Though suspicious, Archel gave the order aloud. At the same time, the door opened, and Verosa entered with two maids carrying wash water.
“Did you sleep well last night, Your Majesty? Today's schedule includes a morning meeting of the Small Privy Council, an audience with the Grand Duke of House Edelhardt in the afternoon, and—”
“Wait.”
The maids naturally began preparing her things while Verosa briefed her on the day's schedule, as though nothing had happened. When Archel raised a hand and cut her off, every maid froze in place.
“...What date is it today?”
Unlike her violently pounding heart, her voice came out cold. Verosa, still smiling, tilted her head in confusion and asked,
“...The date, Your Majesty? Today is the third day of April.”
“And the Orsenian calendar?”
“...The year 711 of the Orsenian calendar.”
April 3, 711, by the Orsenian calendar. Exactly seven years before the day Kael betrayed her. What had happened around this time...?
Archel squeezed her eyes shut and steadied her breathing.
“Cancel everything on today's schedule. I'll handle my work here, so organize it and bring it to me, Verosa.”
“...Pardon? You mean cancel everything?”
It was something Archel had never done, not even once. She had never canceled her official schedule. She had been obsessed with maintaining the image of a perfect emperor—so much so that it bordered on compulsion.
Verosa asked blankly, but flinched at Archel's gaze and lowered her head.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Understood.”
Verosa bowed politely and waited for Archel to finish washing. Hiding her bewilderment, she asked cautiously,
“Your Majesty, would you like me to call for the court physician?”
“No. I think I'll be fine after getting some rest, so there's no need for a physician. You may all leave now.”
Archel finished washing and dismissed them. Once all the maids had withdrawn, she collapsed back onto the bed. Her mind was still in turmoil, and even her perfectly unharmed chest had begun to throb with sharp pain.
Before long, Verosa returned with a bundle of documents and placed it on the table beside the bed.
“I won't see anyone until I call for them. Make sure everyone knows that.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
After everyone left, silence filled the room where Archel remained alone. Feeling the stillness settle around her, Archel closed her eyes and quietly regulated her breathing.
The peaceful quiet was something that should have felt utterly ordinary—the ability to move her body without pain, the absence of the screams and chaos that had thundered in her ears—yet it struck her as something entirely new.
“...Kael Edelhardt.”
Ice-blue hair like a glacier melting, and eyes the color of the sky, just a shade darker. He had a wistful look about him, but his constant smile gave him a gentle, kind air. The first man Archel had ever loved. The only man she had loved more than anyone else.
She had first met him at an official event hosted by House Edelhardt, and even his first impression had been enough to make her heart flutter. After he ascended to the position of Grand Duke, they met once or twice more at official functions. At some point, Archel had lost her heart to the sight of a man who conducted business with a cold, expressionless face yet melted into a smile whenever he saw her.
She fell in love with the way he cared for her not as an emperor, but as though she were simply a beloved young lady. That was why she had offered him the position of imperial consort. When he had smiled brightly and nodded, she had believed that he loved her, too.
But then.
Archel clenched her teeth.
“You went through all that trouble to drink tea you don't even like, just because of me, Your Majesty.”
Because Kael had always thought only of her, Archel had wanted to accommodate him in everything as well. When he first told her that hibiscus tea was his favorite, she had unconsciously forced a shared preference between them, claiming that it was hers, too. In truth, he had known she disliked the tea and had brought it to her throughout their entire marriage.
When had that smile become a lie?
Why had he hated her so much?
“When you go to the afterlife, apologize to Sophia, whom you killed.”
She remembered the last words he had spoken. Sophia. It was an unfamiliar name. As far as Archel knew, it did not appear on any list of high-ranking nobles. She had never heard the name before—and above all, she had never once heard it from Kael.
“I killed her...?”
Archel had been the crown princess from birth, born with the Mark of Dominion. In other words, the throne had belonged to her from the moment she was born. She had no political rivals, nor anyone so troublesome that she would have needed to go out of her way to kill them.
For what reason had he deceived her and gone on acting for seven years, waiting for the day he could kill her?
Her body still trembled with betrayal. It had been horrifying, miserable, and infuriating. It simply—hurt.
She could hardly accept that she had returned to seven years earlier, let alone find the time to think about him. The waves of emotion crashing over her were simply too enormous.
Hot tears streamed down her face. Archel pulled the blankets over herself, buried her face in them, and wept silently for a long while.
She remained that way, slowly suppressing her emotions, until the red sunlight pouring through the window brightly illuminated the entire room. Then Archel slowly lifted her buried head like a ghost. Rising with an expressionless face, she climbed out of bed and bathed alone. She left her hair loose as it dripped water, then stared at herself in the mirror.
The woman in the mirror had the youthful face she had possessed seven years ago. Her cheeks were rosy and fresh, like a girl in love. The skin around her eyes, swollen from crying, was taut and free of even a single wrinkle. And the silver hair she had cut short to suit Kael's tastes fell all the way to her waist.
As Archel looked at her reflection, she wiped away the remnants of emotion rippling across her face. She did not know what had happened, but this was an opportunity. She would never die so foolishly again. She would not be deceived. This time, she would not love him.
Before she knew it, the Archel in the mirror wore a frigid expression, her eyes burning with icy fire.
Knock knock.
At that moment, another knock sounded.
“Did I not tell you not to let anyone in?”
She shouted the words in a voice as cold as her expression. From beyond the door, a voice answered.