CHAPTER 5- Familiar yet Unfamiliar

The voice was faint at first, like a whisper carried on the wind, but it grew louder, more insistent. 

"MY LADY, YOUR HIGHNESS, PLEASE WAKE UP AND COME DOWN!" 

I stirred, my mind foggy, as though I were surfacing from the depths of a deep, dark ocean. The voice was familiar—achingly so. It tugged at the edges of my memory, pulling me toward a place I thought I'd left behind forever. 

Rina. 

The name echoed in my mind, sharp and clear. But that couldn't be. Rina was gone. She had died last year, her life snuffed out like a candle in a storm. I had mourned her, buried her, and carried the weight of her loss ever since. 

"MY LADY, FOR GOD'S SAKE, WAKE UPPPPP!" 

The voice was louder now, tinged with frustration and anxiety. It *was* Rina. There was no mistaking that tone, that particular blend of exasperation and devotion. 

A smile tugged at my lips. If this was the afterlife, it wasn't so bad. To hear her voice again, to feel her presence—it was a gift I hadn't dared to hope for. 

"Why are you screaming, Rina? At least let me rest in my afterlife," I murmured, my eyes still closed, savoring the sound of her voice. 

"My Lady, did you drink secretly with the knights?" she snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut through my haze. 

I giggled, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside me. Even in death, she was the same. Bossy, protective, and utterly devoted. 

But then her next words shattered my fragile peace. 

"My Lady, snap out of your dreamland. Your fiancé is on his way to meet you." 

My eyes flew open, and I sat up abruptly—only to feel the world tilt beneath me. 

*THUD.* 

"MY LADY!" 

I groaned as pain shot through my body, sharp and real. Why was I feeling pain in the afterlife? 

"That's why I told you, please don't sleep on the cherry blossom trees to hide your drunkenness," Rina scolded, brushing dust off my dress. 

I blinked up at her, my heart pounding in my chest. She looked exactly as I remembered her—long brown hair tied in a neat braid, hazel eyes filled with a mix of worry and irritation, her skin soft and youthful. She couldn't have been older than twenty. 

"You've grown young, Rina," I mumbled, my voice trembling. 

She gave me a strange look and pinched my cheek. I hissed in pain. 

"Your Highness, you don't need to butter me up. I'm still going to tell the master that you've been drinking with the knights," she said, her tone icy. 

I laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "Hey, I'm sure that man's made his way to hell. Why would you go down from heaven to hell to meet him—" 

"Your Highness, JUST HOW MUCH DID YOU DRINK? OH DEAR HEAVENS, YOUR FIANCE IS COMING. PLEASE SNAP OUT!" 

She shook me violently, and I felt the world spin around me. 

"BUT I DON'T HAVE A FIANCE!" I shouted, frustration bubbling over. 

Rina sighed and cupped my cheeks, her expression softening. "Your Highness, I know this engagement isn't what you want, but you can't go against your father right now." 

Her words were a jumble in my mind, but one thing was clear: this wasn't the afterlife. This was something else entirely. 

A cold breeze brushed against my skin, carrying the sweet, intoxicating scent of cherry blossoms. I looked up and gasped. 

The tree above me was in full bloom, its branches heavy with delicate pink flowers. It was the same cherry blossom tree that had once stood in the backyard of Nyxveil Mansion—the one that had been burned to ash over thirty years ago. 

I scrambled to my feet, my heart racing as I took in my surroundings. The garden was alive with color and life, a stark contrast to the barren wasteland it had become after the fire. The crystal-clear pond to the east sparkled in the sunlight, its surface rippling gently in the breeze. The backyard was filled with ornate accessories—stone benches, marble statues, and trellises draped with ivy and flowers. 

This was Nyxveil Mansion as it had been in its prime, a place of beauty and grandeur that I hadn't seen in decades. 

"Are you returning to reality, Your Highness?" Rina asked, her voice tinged with relief. 

I clutched the small wooden box in my hand, the one Rheon had given me. "My son got it from some ancient ruins. It's said to grant one's most desperate wish," he had told me. 

Was this the result of that wish? Had I been sent back in time? 

"YOUR HIGHNESS, WE MUST RUN. YOUR FIANCE IS ALREADY IN THE MANSION!" Rina grabbed my hand, and we sprinted toward the mansion, my mind reeling with confusion and fear. 

The path was lined with daisies and magic stones that glowed faintly, even in the daylight. The mansion loomed ahead, its grandeur untouched by time. The crystal pond, the cherry blossoms, the lush greenery—it was all as it had been before the fire, before the war, before everything had fallen apart. 

We slipped through a hidden entrance, the wooden walls of the basement familiar and comforting. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and cleaning supplies, and the creak of the stairs beneath our feet was a sound I hadn't heard in decades. 

Mika, another maid who had died protecting me, greeted us with a whispered, "What took you two so long?" 

My heart ached at the sight of her. She looked exactly as she had in my memories—strong, loyal, and unyielding. 

The mansion's interior was a masterpiece of opulence. The grand hall stretched endlessly, bathed in golden light that streamed through colossal arched windows. The ceiling was painted with celestial wonders, and massive chandeliers dripped with crystals like captured starlight. The columns of marble and gold stood like ancient sentinels, their surfaces veined with silver. 

Mika led us through the labyrinthine halls, her steps quick and purposeful. We darted past maids and servants who bowed their heads as we passed, their faces familiar yet distant, like ghosts from a past I had tried to forget. 

Finally, we reached the kitchen, a bustling hub of activity where the head chef, Jonas, was barking orders at his staff. His face lit up when he saw me, and he hurried over, his hands still dusted with flour. 

"Your Highness, we have just ten more minutes. They're here," he said, his voice low and urgent. 

Rina and Mika ushered me into a small room off the kitchen, where Laila and Aila, the twin maids, were waiting. They held a breathtaking blue gown, its fabric shimmering like the night sky. 

"God, we need to hurry. Your Highness, wash your body fast," Mika said, already pulling at the laces of my dress. 

I stood there, dazed, as they stripped me of my clothes and scrubbed me down with warm, scented water. The sensation was so real, so vivid, that it sent shivers down my spine. 

Laila and Aila worked quickly, their hands deft and sure as they dressed me in the gown. The fabric clung to my body like a second skin, the intricate embroidery catching the light with every movement. 

"Your Highness, sit," Laila said, guiding me to a chair. 

I obeyed, my mind still reeling as she began to apply makeup to my face. Aila worked on my hair, weaving pearls and jewels into the golden waves that cascaded down my back. 

When they were done, they stepped back, their eyes wide with admiration. 

"Your Highness, you look… stunning," Mika whispered, her voice filled with awe. 

I turned to the mirror, my breath catching in my throat. 

The woman who stared back at me was a vision of ethereal beauty. Her golden hair shimmered like sunlight, adorned with delicate braids and jewels. Her eyes, deep and mysterious, seemed to hold the weight of a thousand unspoken stories. The gown she wore was a masterpiece of midnight and gold, the fabric clinging to her form in the most elegant way, its embroidery catching the light with every movement. 

But it wasn't just her beauty that struck me—it was the youthfulness, the lack of scars, the untouched perfection of her skin. 

How was this possible? How was I so young, so beautiful, so… untouched? 

The question lingered in the air, unanswered, as I stared into the eyes of a woman reborn. 

"Your Highness," Mika said, pulling me from my thoughts. "It's time." 

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I stepped out of the kitchen and into the grand hall. 

The opulence of the mansion was overwhelming, a stark reminder of the life I had left behind. The grand staircase curled upwards like a sculpted wave, its balustrade adorned with intricate carvings of roses and mythical creatures. The chandeliers dripped with crystals, their light casting a warm, golden glow over the room. 

And then I saw them. 

My father, cold and commanding. My mother, elegant and serene. My older brother, proud and protective. My younger sister, innocent and carefree. 

"Selantia Nyxveil," my father called, his voice as cold as ice. 

I felt my world crashing down, my chest tightening with a pain so real it stole my breath. This wasn't the afterlife. This was something far more cruel. 

"My Lady, My Lady," Rina whispered from behind me, her voice filled with concern. 

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. What kind of punishment was this? To face the people I had lost, the people I had failed, all over again? 

The pain in my chest was too real, the anger and resentment too raw. This wasn't a dream or an afterlife. This was a second chance—or perhaps a curse. 

And I had no choice but to face it.