The Second Memory Implantation (1)

[We made it to 100k views in less than half a year!

Honestly, I never thought I would get this far. And also, I did not expect to actually get past 200 chapters. Anyways, to those reading this book, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And if you are willing, then please continue reading it. It will go up to 1000+ chapters so not to worry. 

Anyways, this flashback is going to be even longer than the first so brace yourself alright?]

The warm glow of moonlight spilled through the arched windows of Vastarael's quarters on the thirty-seventh floor of the Obsidian Runic Spire, the same spire that froze his companion, casting soft shadows across the ornate furniture and intricately carved walls.

Adelasta sat cross-legged on his massive bed, her icy gaze fixed on the obsidian floor, though her mind was far from the room. For once, she wasn't brooding about power plays or strategic alliances. Instead, her thoughts meandered somewhere… complicated.

The sound of running water echoed from the adjacent bathroom, followed by Vastarael's voice cutting through the relative silence.

"I still don't get why you're so obsessed with my memories. They're not exactly a bedtime story, you know."

Adelasta blinked, snapping out of her reverie. She tilted her head slightly toward the bathroom door, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"I'm not obsessed. It's just… the way you implant them. It's like putting together pieces of a puzzle no one else can see."

"You mean it's annoying," Vastarael said, chuckling lightly. The sound of water splashing filled the pause before he added, "It's not like I have a choice. If I could just dump them all at once and save us both the headache, I would."

Adelasta didn't respond immediately. Her thoughts wandered again, but this time, they landed on the second reason she was here, a far more intimate, far more dangerous reason.

The Reversal Ascension.

The bond they shared was a chain that tethered them to something far beyond mortal comprehension. Completing it meant crossing a line she wasn't sure either of them was ready for. And yet… here she was.

Her gaze drifted toward the door, as though she could see through it to where Vastarael was undoubtedly scrubbing his curls with the same absentminded energy he approached most mundane tasks.

How could someone so flawed, so irritatingly human in his habits, carry the weight of a memory as heavy as his? How could he look so calm while doing it?

"Are you seriously not going to answer me?" Vastarael's voice broke through her thoughts again, this time tinged with mock offense. "I'm baring my soul in here and you're just sitting there, plotting my downfall."

Adelasta rolled her eyes, leaning back against the plush pillows, "I don't need to plot anything. You're your own worst enemy half the time."

"Wow," he drawled sarcastically. "Harsh. But probably true."

The banter fell into a comfortable silence for a moment and Adelasta's gaze wandered around the room. Despite its royal elegance, it was surprisingly… lived-in. Books were scattered on the desk in organized chaos, a few jackets hung lazily over the back of chairs and a sapphire dagger rested on the nightstand, gleaming faintly in the moonlight. It was a strange blend of the prince's polished image and the messy reality of his life.

The water shut off and a few seconds later, Vastarael emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung over his shoulders. His white curls were damp, clinging to his bronze skin in a way that made him look more like a myth than a mortal.

Adelasta's eyes flicked to him briefly before returning to the floor, though she didn't miss the way his golden gaze studied her, sharp but unreadable.

"Done philosophizing in there?" She asked dryly.

"Philosophizing?" Vastarael smirked, running the towel through his hair. "I was thinking about what I'm gonna eat tomorrow. Deep stuff."

Adelasta's jaw tightened slightly, but she didn't look up. Instead, she clasped her hands together in her lap, the cool composure she always carried slipping just enough to reveal the storm beneath.

"The Ascension," she admitted after a long pause. "I want to finalize what our parents made long ago. This is why I am here after eight months since... well, you saved Halo Islands."

Vastarael's expression didn't change, but the air in the room shifted.

"You sure about that?" He asked, his tone more serious now. "It's not exactly something we can easily undo."

"Do you think I would be here if I wasn't?"

He held her gaze for a moment before letting out a breath, running a hand through his damp curls.

"Fair point."

For a while, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the faint rustle of the wind outside. Finally, Vastarael stood, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge, just out of reach.

"You know what this means, right? Making it a complete bond means that—

"I know. I'll be your wife. Literally. We will be fully married. Without a betrothal."

Vastarael shifted slightly on the edge of the bed, his eyes narrowing as Adelasta's blunt response settled in the air between them.

Wife. Married.

The words hit with an odd finality, like a sentence written in stone. He exhaled, dragging a hand through his wet curls, his usually poised demeanor breaking under the weight of the situation.

"You're really just… throwing that out there, huh? It's been a day since you got back from Elyonari's tree. And now you want to complete the bond, see my memories, and oh, I don't know, marry me without even a betrothal ceremony. So, uh... what's going on? Why now?"

Adelasta, still seated on the bed with her arms folded and her icy expression firmly in place, didn't immediately respond. Her orange eyes stayed fixed on the far wall. Vastarael tilted his head, his frustration ebbing slightly as he caught the subtle movement.

"Adelasta. Talk to me. I know you better than this. You don't do anything without a reason, so what is this really about?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a slow breath before finally turning to meet his gaze.

"You always do this. You act like you're the only one who's confused, like I haven't been carrying this weight for years."

"Years? Okay, you've officially lost me."

Adelasta gave a dry, humorless laugh, shaking her head as she leaned back slightly.

"Of course you don't get it. You've always been too busy running around being the Prince of Beauty, the Heir of Richinaria, the savior of whoever needs saving. You never stop to think about what it's been like for the rest of us."

He blinked, taken aback by the sudden edge in her voice.

"What are you talking about? You've never told me anything was—"

"I was always going to be your wife," she interrupted. "Whether or not that ridiculous Reversal Ascension happened. Whether or not you almost died. Do you even realize what that means?"

Vastarael opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, sensing this was not the time to interrupt. Adelasta's gaze hardened as she continued, her words tumbling out in a rare display of vulnerability.

"I've been bound to you since before either of us understood what that even meant. It wasn't a choice. It wasn't romance. It wasn't some fairytale destiny. It was an obligation. Dynasty Vazakiel's entire future was tied to this, to you. To Richinaria. Do you know how much pressure that puts on someone? To be told your whole existence is about securing an alliance?"

Her hands clenched into fists on her lap, her voice trembling slightly as she pressed on.

"I tried to fight it. At first, I hated you for it. You were this spoiled little prince, running around with your perfect face and your perfect life, completely oblivious to what it meant for me. But then..."

"Then what?

"Then you almost died."

"..."

"That day when the Reversal Ascension hit, and you were lying there, barely breathing... I realized that it wasn't just an obligation anymore. I didn't want you to die, Vastarael. Not because of the alliance, not because of the politics. I... didn't want to lose anyone because of my situation."

The room fell silent for a moment. Vastarael watched her carefully, his eyes searching her face for any sign of pretense, but there was none. Adelasta's usual icy mask was cracked, and for once, he saw the raw, unfiltered truth beneath.

"And now? Are you doing this because of... pain from the Ascension? Because if this is about the bond or—"

"No," she cut him off firmly, meeting his gaze again. "This isn't about the mental pain. Yes, being the Duchess of Richinaria comes with expectations that would crush most people. But this? This is my choice, Vastarael. For once, I get to decide."

"..."

"You asked why I'm doing this now, why I'm pushing for the bond, the memories, everything. It's because I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of hiding behind obligations and pretending this doesn't mean anything to me. It does. You do."

Vastarael stared at her, his mind racing to process everything she'd just said. He felt the familiar pang of guilt, the same one that always hit him when he realized how much people sacrificed for him, how much they carried because of who he was. But this time, there was something else. A strange warmth beneath the guilt, a sense of clarity he hadn't expected.

"It wasn't my decision to be your betrothed. It never was. We were forced into it. And now, I think it's time for you to finally take responsibility. Be my husband."

Vastarael blinked, his golden eyes wide, caught somewhere between stunned silence and utter disbelief.

"Wait, wait, wait. Did you just—did you seriously just say—'Be my husband'? Like that? Just like that"

Adelasta, still sitting on the edge of the bed, gave him one of her signature deadpan looks.

"Yes. That's exactly what I said. And you heard me perfectly."

He threw his hands up, gesturing wildly as he paced the room, his damp curls bouncing with every step.

"Do you hear yourself right now? You just dropped a marriage proposal on me like you were asking me to pass the salt! 'Be my husband.' Boom. No buildup, no romance, just—married!"

"Romance is overrated. Besides, we're already betrothed. This is just… sealing the deal."

"Sealing the deal?" Vastarael turned to stare at her, his jaw practically on the floor. "You make it sound like we're signing a business contract, not getting married! Do you even hear yourself?"

Adelasta's expression didn't waver. If anything, she looked even more amused by his reaction.

"What's your problem? You always knew this was coming. Or did you think we'd just keep pretending forever?"

"I don't know! Maybe! I figured we'd at least... talk about it or something! Have a conversation that didn't involve you basically telling me, 'Hey, by the way, you're stuck with me forever. Congrats!'"

Adelasta shrugged, crossing her arms. "We're having the conversation now, aren't we?"

"This is not a conversation, Adelasta! This is an ambush!"

"Stop being so dramatic," she said, rolling her eyes. "And sit down. I'm not done yet."

"Oh, great. There's more."

"Of course there's more. If we're doing this—and we are—there are going to be conditions."

"Conditions? What kind of conditions?"

"Reasonable ones. First, you're going to treat me as your equal. No treating me like I'm just some obligation or political pawn."

"Okay," he said cautiously. "That's… fair."

"Second," she continued, ticking off her fingers, "if you're planning on this whole 'harem' thing—"

He choked. "H-Harem?! Who said anything about a harem?!"

"Please. Don't act like you haven't thought about it. I know you, Vastarael. The moment you realized you could escape your fate, you probably started dreaming about building a harem of beautiful women."

Vastarael's face turned an impressive shade of red.

"I—what—no! That's ridiculous!"

"It's not ridiculous. It's you."

"Okay, fine!" He admitted, throwing up his hands. "Maybe I did think about it! Once or twice! But that doesn't mean—"

"Doesn't mean what? That you didn't see this coming? That you didn't expect me to be your first wife?"

"I—well—" He spluttered, completely thrown off. "Okay, no! I mean, yes, maybe someday, but not this soon! It's only been a day since I came back!"

"Exactly. And you've already made it clear that you're not running from this. So why wait? Let's just get it over with."

"Get it over with. Wow, Adelasta, you sure know how to make a guy feel special."

"If you wanted poetry and flowers, you've got the wrong girl."

He let out a long sigh, shaking his head. This was too absurd but still...

"Okay, fine. What's the next condition?"

"Third," she said, her expression softening slightly. "I want to be more than just your wife. I want to understand you. Your memories, your thoughts, everything you've been through. I don't want to just be stuck on the sidelines while you handle everything on your own."

"Wait. You're serious?"

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. Look, I'm not going to pretend I have all the answers. Honestly, I don't even know if what I feel for you is… real, or if it's just the bond. But I want to figure it out. And I can't do that if you keep shutting me out."

He stared at her, his chest doing something strange and unfamiliar in his chest. For once, Adelasta wasn't cold or distant. She was… vulnerable. And it completely threw him off. His entire life, she saw always cold and emotionless to him. Seeing her acting like this shattered his entire view of how the future Duchess of Anqerise was.

"Adelasta…" he began, his voice softer now. "You don't have to—"

"Don't," she interrupted, holding up her hand. "Don't try to talk me out of this. I've made up my mind."

He let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"You always were stubborn."

"Of course. That's why I'll make a great Duchess."

For a moment, they just sat there in silence, the weight of everything hanging in the air. Finally, Vastarael broke the tension with a wry smile.

"So… first wife, huh?"

Adelasta rolled her eyes. "Don't let it go to your head, Prince of Beauty."

"Believe me by dear. It already did. But first, before we do this, I want you to see my second memory. Are you okay with this?"

"Sure."