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In her previous lifetime, Cayetana had ordered Inés to beg for forgiveness in a transparent attempt to break her spirits. The list of those before whom she was expected to bow was exhaustive: Cayetana, Oscar, Dolores, and a host of nobles who had once done her bidding. When Inés claimed that only God would ever see her submit in such a way, the empress had scoffed in her face.

"God? You must consider yourself grand enough to utter such a thing-how brazen! Tell me, would you still refuse to bow had it been your husband whom you disrespected instead of Marchioness Yargavá, a dear companion of mine?"

To this, Inés had responded with measured dignity, "Even my husband is but a mere mortal. And I find myself bewildered by the command to seek forgiveness for a sin I never committed. I am truly honored to be the recipient of your wise advice, but I fear I am too foolish to accept it."

Time and again, Cayetana would mask her malice behind a kind, generous smile, requesting Inés to humble herself before lesser nobles over most trivial transgressions. On the surface, she simply appeared to be an impartial empress who would hold even the crown princess to the same standards as any other. But Inés saw through her ploy and suppressed a scoff whenever Cayetana decided to put on this farce.

If Inés refused to bow her head, she would be painted as an insolent woman who had flouted imperial command in the presence of witnesses. However, if she yielded and offered even a simple word of apology, she would be regarded as the empress's compliant pawn. It would mean surrendering her dignity; the authority that she had earned over the years would be cast into the mire and she would end up the laughingstock of Mendoza. After all, one could never recover from having their power crushed in front of those they were supposed to rule over.

Even though she was determined to defy the empress, Cayetana believed her daughter-in-law's arrogance wouldn't last for long, especially given her inability to bear an heir for the throne. Inés knew how Cayetana had regarded her with the confidence and serenity of someone in the position of ultimate power, as if she knew she would end up winning whether or not Inés chose to submit. Even when Inés skillfully brushed aside her order as a simple piece of advice that could be easily disregarded, the empress remained nonchalant.

"You clever thing..."Cayetana had once said, her voice carrying a wry amusement. "You must have known you'd be walking to your own demise by obeying my orders."

Indeed, she probably wanted Inés to maintain her haughty confidence and act as if she also deserved to be respected and revered as a member of the imperial family. She would have smiled as Inés wilted away after daring to defy the empress-a deviation from the picture of the perfect daughter-in-law Cayetana had always painted for the public.

In a twist of irony, she had wanted Inés to become intoxicated on the glory of being married to the crown prince even though she despised the power and support Inés gained. Her goal, of course, was to rip off Inés's wings when she was soaring high above the ditch she ought to be in. Therefore, it was only natural that Cayetana's mask slipped when Inés proclaimed that she was "still" a daughter of Perez, as if Cayetana's precious son didn't mean anything to her.

In the end, such a simple thing had been all she needed to infuriate the empress.

An image of Cayetana's livid glare surfaced in her mind, but Inés brushed it away like it was something vile and disgusting. What followed shortly after was the memory of a conversation with Luciano.

"You are the only living daughter of Perez, and I am the only son," he had told her. "Inés... do you recall what Grandmother told us before she passed?"

"Vaguely," she had said.

"Vaguely?" he parroted in slight disbelief.

"It has been three years, Luciano."

"I doubt you'd remember, but it was a saying that Grandfather used to share with us as well-something passed down for generations."

She had nodded impatiently. "Yes, yes. I do remember. 'The children of Perez..."

"The children of Perez do not beg for anybody's forgiveness but the Lord's."

"Ah, just like the privilege of immunity that I learned a few weeks ago. Does this mean I can strike you again without bothering to offer an apology?"

Luciano sighed. "You little rascal... Just be careful not to kill me."

"I would never! Life would be unbearably dull without you. All we have is each other, after all."

Although Luciano narrowed his eyes in slight annoyance, he hadn't been able to hide his smile. He had always played the role of her protector, but his own youthfulness betrayed him in moments like these when Inés offered him such sweet words.

Every time they were made aware that they couldn't rely on anyone else-not even their own parents-but each other, they felt a powerful sense of fulfillment in their bond instead of loss or loneliness. Back when they were both children, Luciano's usual mask of curtness had always fallen away when he sat at her bedside, whispering kind words of blessing that lulled her to a world of dreams.

"Indeed. We only have each other... I want you to be the happiest woman in the world, Inés. I hope the crown prince cherish you even more than I have... You deserve nothing less than reverence and admiration. Only happiness lies in your future..."he had told her, as if he thought he could somehow change her destiny with those heartfelt words.

Luciano had assumed the role of her guardian after their mother, Olga, had wrongfully dismissed Inés's dear nursemaid. He claimed to have never felt any kind of fear or pain in standing his ground against their mother, though she understood now that he had lied and endured it all alone.

Their exchange continued in her head.

"Well, I do not wish to be bored for a single day of my life. Therefore, you must stay alive for as long as I live, Luciano."

"Is that truly the only reason why..."Luciano had sighed. "No matter. Treat me like a plaything if you wish, but heed my words: I do not mean to say that you have permission to sin without any consequences. You should refrain from tarnishing the name of Valeztena in the first place. And..."he paused, considering his words.

"And?"

After a beat, Luciano continued, "Throughout our family's history, many innocent men and women have been condemned, ensnared by guilt not their own. There is always a trap waiting around the corner, and our noble name is not enough to help us escape all dangers. But remember, a Valeztena must never confess to a guilt that isn't theirs-not for respite, not even to save their own life."

"Well... if my own life were at stake, I might be tempted to act otherwise."

Luciano shook his head sternly. "No, Inés. You must remember that everything is fleeting."

"Even my life?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Yes. Yours, mine-ours. But Valeztena will stand long after we are gone, which is why we must not tarnish its name and honor."

She pursed her lips thoughtfully for a second or two.

"What am I to do if I wish to live?"

"As long as I breathe, you will never be in a position where your life is at risk."

It took her many years to finally grasp the meaning behind his words. When he realized what the crown prince had done to her, he urged her to take him down.

"End him, even if it costs my life," he had said. "If you cannot do it yourself, let me do it for you. We cannot continue to breathe the same air as him... We shall preserve the honor of Valeztena with our vengeance."

For the first time in a long while, Inés wondered how Luciano had met his end. She didn't know what he must have faced after she had chosen to leave that life behind.

A familiar voice broke through her musings. "I feared you had drowned in the bath."

She glanced over to see Cárcel leaning against the door frame, Admiral Calderon's rifle tucked against his side. When she had entered the bathroom, he had been taking it apart and examining it. Quite some time must have passed since he finished reassembling the rifle. He also seemed to have cleaned himself briefly in the room across from hers. His hair was still wet and uncombed from a quick wash.

For a moment, her gaze lingered on the scar that peeked out from beneath the few strands of damp hair across his forehead. Then she released a soft chuckle and said, "As you can see, I am very much alive."

"Why do you submerge yourself for so long, Inés?" he asked in a low voice.

She deflected his question with a gentle warning. "Do not come near the bath. The damp air would do your wound no favors."

Cárcel, however, seemed to take her words as an invitation, setting the rifle aside and stepping closer.

Her brows knit in mild reproach. "I told you, the moisture will aggravate your wounds..."

"I will be fine," he replied, undeterred. "The cuts were not very long."

"They were very long," she countered. "And quite repulsive, if you want the truth."

A flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. Yet, he sat down on the edge of the tub, seemingly unconcerned by the water soaking his trousers. His steady gaze rested on her face, as though worried that she might be feeling ill again.

A part of her expected him to start running his eyes over her naked form, though the cloudy bathwater obscured all but a vague silhouette. But his eyes remained fixed on her face, his expression softened with a deep-seated worry. After a moment, he seemed to realize she was staring at the cuts marring him.

"Ah..." he said quietly.

"Away. You are troubling me," she muttered, tearing her gaze away from the wounds.

"They are mere scratches, Inés," he assured her.

She narrowed her eyes. "I wonder how you'd fare when you sustain an injury that is anything more

than a scratch," she spat. "Surely, you will return in one piece from the war."

"Of course I will. I swear to you, I'll come back. Please... your anger hurts me, Inés." He leaned closer and placed a comforting kiss on her cheek.

His lips traveled from her earlobe to the end of her jawline, then slid down to the moist, delicate skin of her neck. Suddenly, Inés turned her head sharply to press her lips to his, and an uncharacteristic look of surprise fleeted across his face.

"I am not angry," she responded. "I simply..."

She trailed off, trying to banish Anastasio's name from her mind as her gaze lingered on his face. She knew she had to focus on what truly mattered at the moment, and their survival was much more important than some distant memory of the past.

So what if he knows what happened in our previous lives? she thought with forced nonchalance even as she felt a dark pit growing in her stomach. However, she was determined to ignore the fear and anxiety that dwelled within until they drifted from her mind.

She had to find a way for her and Cárcel to retain who they truly were. She couldn't allow Oscar to steal their lives away from them again. In fact, she would fight against an apostle or God himself if she had to.

Finally, she continued, "Luciano also knows what the crown prince is planning in regards to you and myself."

"Does he now," he muttered under his breath.

"He has been keeping an eye on the crown prince ever since the Formente competition," she said with a curt nod. "I didn't manage to insert any of my spies into his inner circle, since I was treading very carefully and wiping my footsteps... but Luciano is different. He knows Mendoza even better than my father after working for him for so many years, and he is an expert at utilizing his spies."

Back when she was married to Oscar, it had taken Luciano's spies quite some time to gather the details of her misfortune-something that had only been occasionally visible in her frown or sigh. However, this was not due to Luciano's own shortcomings. For one, Oscar's underlings had been quite skilled at keeping secrets back then. Furthermore, Inés had simply known her brother too well, and she did everything within her power to hide the humiliation she suffered at Oscar's hands from her family and the public.

Cárcel nodded. "I see."

"I know that Oscar was the one who put everything in motion. He is trying to change the course of our lives so that it's different than what happened 'before'... Your father may think you are heading to your death, but that wasn't supposed to be true. In fact..."

"Yes?" he prompted her gently.

"It was supposed to bring you great glory."