264

***

The hour hand of the clock was already well past midnight. The small family chapel in Almagro Castle, belonging to House Castagnary, was bathed in the faint glow of tall candles that were scattered around the chamber. They cast light upon the lifeless form of young Viviana Castagnary lying in the open coffin, with her pale hands neatly crossed over her abdomen, adorned with a sacred object and flowers of mourning.

The Castagnarys had chosen to hold the funeral within the intimate confines of their private chapel instead of the grand chapel in Mendoza Cathedral. They had explicitly stated they didn't want a grand funeral procession. It made sense that they wished to grieve in private-after all, they had lost their daughter before she even had the chance to be married.

"Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee," the priest recited, standing next to the coffin.

A soft murmur of voices rose in response from the mourners seated in a half circle around the coffin. "For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling."

As she listened to Cárcel's solemn voice and her own blending into one harmonious prayer, Inés stole a glance at Miguel. He sat with his head bowed, pale and broken, his gaze fixed upon the floor.

With so many steps being omitted, this early morning mass would be the entirety of the funeral ceremony. When the sun rose to signal the second morning after Viviana's death, her casket would be lowered into the crypt of the castle, where her body would be transferred from the scented wooden coffin to the cold stone tomb that awaited her.

This also meant any individuals who did not belong to House Castagnary wouldn't be allowed to mourn Viviana's death after the mass, which was why Miguel had remained in their family chapel since the previous night. According to custom, only the younger members of the deceased's family could mourn and pray through the night before the funeral. However, he had somehow managed to use his status as Viviana's betrothed to insert himself into the chapel-an impressive achievement, considering his stunned and grieving state.

Throughout the mass, Miguel had alternated between staring at the coffin and bowing his head. It was as if he feared the coffin would disappear if he looked away, but he couldn't bear to keep looking either. He had been stuck in such a state ever since his arrival at the castle the previous evening, like Viviana had taken his soul with her when she died.

"O Lord," the priest continued in prayer, "Viviana Castagnary de Almagro has broken free of the chains of sin to return to Your embrace. May her soul find peace in Your eternal kingdom, away from the suffering and grief of the living."

At those words, Miguel bent forward, his face almost touching his knees. He appeared to be caught in desperate prayer, but it also seemed like the weight of his grief had and he wished to block his ears from the holy words that rang through the chapel. The mourning members of House Castagnary, lost in their own sorrow, stole occasional glances at Miguel, for his silent anguish surpassed even their own.

As one of the Grandes de Ortega, House Castagnary held a place of prestige, and the Almagro Castle was not far from Mendoza. Although the darkness cloaked the roads leading to the castle, the prominent aristocrats from the city still made their way through the gloom to pay their last respects.

Cárcel and Inés had chosen to attend the mass even though they could have sought respite in one of the chambers upstairs along with the Duke and Duchess Escalante, who had arrived at the castle during the ceremony. Their decision was driven by concern over Miguel's state, which had persisted since they had arrived at El Ledequilla. Unable to even walk straight, Miguel required constant attention, and Cárcel had decided to stay close to keep an eye on him. Inés had simply chosen to remain at her husband's side. Thus, the three of them sat like foreigners among the distant kin of House Castagnary.

Perhaps it was fortunate that they were the only guests from beyond the family who had been allowed into the chapel. Miguel's despair would have only made him a spectacle for the nobility of Mendoza fall prey to their idle gossip.

As the holy chant began, Cárcel leaned toward Inés and whispered, "You may go upstairs if you wish."

It was a suggestion that he had made multiple times already. She shook her head gently and gave him the same answer. "I am fine. And it would be improper to leave in the middle of the ceremony."

Although Cárcel was already concerned about his brother, he had spent all night worrying if she was tired from their unexpected journey.

He should be more worried for his brother, not me... Inés thought quietly as her gaze shifted to Miguel. When he managed to raise his head at last, she released a small sigh of relief before turning her eyes back to the priest.

The terrible guilt that had gnawed her when she heard of Viviana's passing still weighed on her heart.

She couldn't help but recall the letters that Miguel had sent her in their youth-letters where Viviana's name had appeared so often, and how aloofly she had regarded the young lady's name. She had predicted the tragedy that was bound to occur with cold detachment while wearing a mask of kindness. The guilt she felt was similar to when she went back to read the letter Cárcel had sent her from the battlefield. But her disinterest in his letters had only stemmed from knowing that he would return unharmed. And things would be different now, since she was determined to adore and care for Cárcel until she drew her last breath...

But now, a bitter self-loathing took root in her heart, as she reflected on countless moments in her life that could never be undone or rationalized. Perhaps that was why Viviana's death grieved her so deeply and why she anxiously thought of the painful days that remained in Miguel's life.

It had become painfully clear that she had treated Cárcel and everything about him with a cruel indifference, as if he were less than human.

Memories of those moments usually lapped against her consciousness like gentle waves, rising and falling in height at times. However, now they were overtaking her like a great tidal wave, threatening to drown her in the realization of the broken relationship she had created between herself and Cárcel.

She had once convinced herself that she could simply give Cárcel a child to fulfill her duties as a wife then walk away, although she had always known that the Escalantes were bound for a path of suffering. She had been selfish enough to act like her desires were the only things that mattered. She spent so many years under the delusion that she could wield some divine control over her fate, even though she was just as powerless as she had always been. It was truly laughable, how selfish and foolish she had been.

As she recited another passage in response to the priest, her gaze drifted to Miguel once again. Then she glanced at Cárcel, observing his face taut with concern as he stared at his brother. Although the two men looked somewhat similar, they had each inherited different features from their parents. But in this moment, with both of their faces twisted by either grief or concern, they bore a striking resemblance. Miguel reminded her of what Cárcel had looked like six years ago when he was only eighteen.

She had seen that youthful face from a distance in her "first" life, but never in her "second" one, which had been much shorter. And she had seldom witnessed such grief mar his face throughout the entire time they had been betrothed to one another in this life for quite some time. While she could catch a glimpse of Cárcel's youth through Miguel's grief-stricken face, she couldn't see Miguel's future in his older brother. Because his life would soon follow a path that was much more destructive and miserable than Cárcel's.

As she studied the misery that was eating away at Miguel's kind features, an old memory from a distant lifetime began to surface in her mind like a thick fog rolling in from the sea. She saw Cárcel at eighteen, weeping and clinging to her with the same despair that gripped Miguel now.

Suddenly, she thought she might know why she was feeling so guilty and anxious after the death of a girl she had only ever heard about. Although she genuinely worried for Cárcel and his family, the truth was she feared that he might discover all those hurtful and venomous words that she had hurled at him in her other lifetimes. It was an all-consuming terror that she had felt before when those foreign memories first surfaced in her mind.

What if Cárcel woke up one day and realized just how toxic and flawed she was? Her past was a whirlwind of pain and regret, and she was no less broken in her current life. She had never given him the love he deserved, and worse still, she had taken the life of her own child. In every life where their paths crossed, she had only made him suffer. Perhaps she had already ruined him beyond salvation, tormenting him until the moment she died. And now she had the audacity to manipulate and use him, and pretend she had never done any of those despicable things, just because she had made the selfish decision to stay with him...

Although Cárcel had already seen her fall, she feared he might witness her falling even further. She dreaded the thought that he might one day peel back the layers of her mind and see the truth-the unspoken thoughts about Miguel's letters and the cold detachment with which she had anticipated Viviana's death.

As Miguel crumbled under the weight of his terrifying love, another memory struck Inés. It was of Viviana's funeral in another life, although she was certain that she had never attended one before.

In that life, Inés had been withering away from an illness that she kept hidden from the rest of the world, and the news of Viviana's passing had arrived in an entirely different season. She had attended the funeral with the heart of someone walking through life for the very first time. To her, the funeral had simply been a valuable opportunity to see Cárcel for the first time in a very long while. She completely disregarded Viviana's pale, lifeless body and Miguel's grief, choosing instead to steal secret glances at Cárcel, Selfishly enough, she silently thought of how much time remained in her life and felt some joy at the fact that she had managed to see him before her inevitable death.

She had even compared herself to Viviana, the kindhearted young lady who had never caused Miguel any pain. She had wondered if Cárcel would cry for her when her time came, even though she had only ever hurt him. Her long-forgotten foolish hope now made her shiver.

Now that she was drowning in the terror of losing him, she understood why she had longed for him so deeply. It was an incredibly selfish emotion that she would never have entertained or admitted in the past. It had taken her many lifetimes to finally realize just how much she had loved him all along. That was why she had been so terrified of those days that would never come back.

Even now, she feared losing him as much as she loved him. The thought that he had not left her yet, that he might leave her filled her with unspeakable dread.

Suddenly, Miguel collapsed to the ground like a fallen tree. Inés watched in shock, but she had the strange sense that she could still see him sitting there, head bowed in grief. Viviana's siblings rushed to his side, and Cárcel quickly pulled his brother onto his own back. He looked over at her and said something, but it was all a blur-she only remembered nodding frantically.

"Go!" she managed to say as she stumbled to her feet, only half conscious of what she was saying. "I-I shall call for your parents." Then she turned and raced away to do what she had just promised, her shadow stretching long and thin behind her across the stone floor.

In "that" life, she had watched that same scene unfold as a total outsider, much like one of the Castagnarys who had spent their entire lives in Almagro. Cárcel hadn't spared her a glance as he carried Miguel away, and she had despaired as if he would be lost to her forever. At the same time, she had foolishly told herself that perhaps it was all for the best, since she would die without him discovering her illness and pitying her.

She still didn't know how Cárcel had managed to bring her to Calztela, or why she had chosen to call the place her home and remain there until the day she died. That chapter of her life remained shrouded in mystery.

But one thing was certain now: she was no longer an outsider. This time, she was sprinting out of the chapel for Miguel Escalante. She wasn't trying to push away the entire world to hide her disease-ridden body. Now, she could put a name to the emotion she had been feeling, as well as the nature of her fear. It was love-an emotion so simple, yet so powerful. It was the invisible force that had been pulling her to Cárcel for so many years in ways she had never fully understood until now.