Kael, who had collapsed, had no idea what was happening.
He saw himself standing in a room, like a ghost.
Like a trespasser in someone else's memory.
The air was thick with incense and sweat.
Silk curtains hung like wounded banners.
Faint, broken music drifted from distant chambers.
At the center of it all sat Kaelith or rather, the former Kaelith lounging on a velvet couch. His shirt was half undone, his lips stained with wine.
Kneeling before him was a dark-eyed girl, furious, her dress torn, trembling with emotion.
"Don't do it," she whispered. "Don't marry the Sea Prince. Don't let them use you."
From the sidelines, Kael stood, frozen, trying to make sense of it all.
"Who the hell is this woman?" he muttered to himself.
The former Kaelith let out a bitter laugh. "They already are," he said.
"Then run. With me. Now. Tonight. I've bribed the portal keeper. We can make it to the Ember Verge before sunrise."
She pleaded, her voice breaking.
"And do what?" he replied, taking a slow bite of a roasted, garnished fish. "Become fugitives? Leave my little sister to that monster? Burn every bridge? I'm not that brave, Virelle."
Kael's heart clenched as he heard the name.
"What the actual hell is going on? Are these two... lovers?" he asked himself.
Virelle cupped the former Kaelith's face, eyes wild with desperation.
"I don't care about thrones or crowns. I care about you," she whispered. "You said you'd love me even if the world turned to ash."
She inhaled sharply, like the words pained her.
"We can take your sister with us. We can do this together, My Lord."
But Kaelith shook his head.
"No. She won't make it. And I do love you… But I also know what my father does to traitors."
Her hands dropped. Her expression went blank. A slow, sad smile formed on her lips.
"Then I guess you've already chosen."
She rose to her feet and pulled a small silver flask from her sash.
Without a word, she drank.
The former Kaelith jolted upright. "What did you just…?!"
She dropped the flask with a soft clink. Her smile remained.
"You were supposed to run. You were supposed to be mine. If you won't die for love… Then I will. And you'll carry the blame."
She collapsed into his arms.
Lips blue.
Breath fading.
"Virelle! Virelle! Wake up! Please…!"
The former Kaelith screamed as her body went still.
Kael gasped as he jolted upright, back in the present.
Sweat clung to his skin, his breath coming in ragged bursts.
"Did I just witness… how his lover died?" he whispered.
The faint scent of old perfume still clung to him, sweet, tragic… haunting. Or maybe it was just the memory refusing to fade.
He dragged a trembling hand down his face.
"Her name was Virelle..."
His voice was soft now, almost reverent.
"And she died… for Kaelith."
He shook his head slowly.
"That's not love. That's madness. Dying just because you two couldn't be together?"
His gaze darkened, searching the air as if for answers.
"What happened after that?
Is that… is that why the former owner of this body died?"
Just then, the door burst open as a group of maids rushed into the chamber.
They all froze at the sight of him sitting upright, then immediately bowed.
"My Lord, greetings. You're awake," the head maid said with clear relief in her voice.
Kaelith blinked at them, then let out a slow sigh.
"How long… how long have I been unconscious?" he asked, his tone calm but edged with curiosity.
"It has been a full day, My Lord," the head maid replied carefully. "You truly frightened us. We thought… we thought you might have poisoned yourself again, like before."
Kaelith's brows shot up. "What? He did… I did what?"
He stared at them, confused, a cold sweat prickling at the back of his neck.
'Oh no. Don't tell me this bastard poisoned himself,' he thought grimly.
He leaned back against the pillows, eyes narrowing slightly.
Great. He was in the body of a dramatic noble with a history of self-poisoning.
"Don't you remember, My Lord?" the maid asked gently.
Her words made Kaelith shiver slightly.
What was he supposed to say?
Should he tell them the truth?
Hey, I just reincarnated into your master's body, and I have no idea who you people are or what's going on.
Yeah... that would go over well.
His mind raced for an excuse, his expression carefully neutral.
Instead of answering her question, he cleared his throat and shifted the topic. "Why are you here? Is something wrong?"
The maid blinked, slightly confused by the deflection, but quickly recovered with a polite bow. "Yes, My Lord. The king has summoned you. You're to be presented at the royal court shortly."
Kaelith nodded slowly, hiding the unease creeping through him.
'Presented? Court?
Perfect. Just what I need— an audience when I barely know how to walk in these boots.' he thought with a quiet sigh.
The maid hesitated, then added in a softer voice, almost a whisper,
"And… your younger sister has been asking for you. She's been unwell ever since she heard you had died. She refuses to eat, won't sleep… She just keeps calling your name."
Kaelith froze, the weight of her words hitting hard.
'A sister? He had a sister? And she thought he was dead?
Oh right… How did I forget about that?'
A knot tightened in his chest—part guilt, part sorrow, part something he couldn't even name.
Even if this life wasn't truly his, someone out there was hurting because of him.
'And damn… she's the reason I'm here in the first place,' he sighed.
He nodded slowly to them.
"All right… take me to her first."
His voice was quiet, steady.
But inside, chaos still swirled. Too many questions. Too little time.
And now… a sister who believed she had already lost him.
Kaelith opened the wooden door, his wedding cloak dragging behind him, heavy with promises he didn't choose. The golden clasp at his neck felt tight, more like a chain than an ornament.
Lysenia turned her head weakly on the pillow, her eyes fluttering open. "You didn't run away."
He offered her a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Would you have forgiven me if I had?"
"No," she replied. "But I would've helped you hide."
'What a strange, sweet little girl,' he thought.
Kaelith chuckled softly and sat beside her, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "How do you feel?"
"Like the plants are whispering secrets," she murmured, "but I'm too tired to listen."
"That's the weirdest thing I've heard today," he said with a small laugh, gentle and teasing.
"They're not weird," she whispered. "Just misunderstood."
She reached out with fragile fingers and tugged at his sleeve. "Was he nice? The prince?"
Kaelith's face darkened.
He turned away briefly, jaw clenched. The memory of Caelum's cold, unbothered eyes flashed in his mind.
That voice so void of warmth, still echoed in his ears.
"…He was rude," he said at last. "And quiet. Like a storm just before it hits. Arrogant. Empty. As if nothing in this world could touch him. Not even me, can you believe that."
"Are you going to love him?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
Kaelith scoffed. "Love him?" His voice turned sharp, full of bitterness. "I'd rather throw myself off the Floating Spires than fall for that rude, sea-soaked prince."
He stood up quickly and began pacing, his hands clenched into fists. "He didn't even look at me like a person. Just a deal. A name on a scroll. I saw it in his eyes—he didn't care. It was like I was just a piece in his game."
His voice lowered, quieter now, but laced with anger.
"I already hate him, Lys. I hate him because he reminds me that I never had a choice."
'Wait... why am I venting to a little girl? Ugh.'
Lysenia frowned, her young face clouded with concern.
"Don't let the crown kill your heart, Kael. Don't become like him."
Kaelith blinked.
'Wow… she's acting like the adult here.'
He gave a small sigh, running a hand through his hair as guilt crept in. "When did you get so wise, huh?"
Lysenia's lips curved into a sleepy smile. "When you started acting like a grumpy old man."
Kaelith let out a quiet laugh and shook his head. "Touche."
He reached for her hand again, gently wrapping his fingers around hers.
"I'll try, Lys. For you."
His expression softened. He took her small hand in his and squeezed gently.
"As long as you're breathing, I'll remember who I am."
A long silence fell between them, filled only with the soft hum of glowing plants along the walls and the distant chirp of vinebirds nesting in the crystal trees outside.
After a while, Lysenia's voice broke the quiet.
"Do you think Mama would've liked the wedding?"
Kaelith's throat tightened as he swallowed the lump in his throat.
He didn't know what their mother was like, but he knew his mother would have loved the wedding.
"…Yes," he said finally. "But she would've cursed the King for forcing it."
"Then she was smart," Lysenia mumbled, her voice growing faint as her eyes fluttered shut.
Kaelith remained seated beside her long after she'd fallen asleep, watching the protective runes flicker gently around her fragile form.
A magical glow pulsed across her skin like moonlight breathing.
He leaned in, whispered into her ear. Then he kissed her forehead.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, he allowed himself to feel something.
Not duty.
Not fear.
But the ache of being human.
Yet alas, he was no longer one.
He was now a warlock.