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"Lord Luciano! Are you down the hallway?" a voice called out, sharp and urgent.

Immediately, Duke Escalante straightened up and forced himself to smooth his breathing, his trembling hand slipping from his chest as if he had never clutched it.

Luciano also feigned nonchalance, withdrawing his hands from the duke's shoulder. "I am here," he replied evenly. "What is the matter?"

Spotting him, the knight approached and gave him a quick bow. "Lord Cárcel Escalante has urgently requested your presence. He bade me inform you to hasten to the last hall at the other end of the hallway. Lady Inés is unwell and has stepped out onto the balcony for air, and..."

Luciano knit his brows. "And Lord Cárcel? Is he not with her?"

"He had to leave immediately after receiving an imperial summons," the knight responded. "He asked you to escort Her Ladyship and leave the Barca Manor at once."

Luciano paused, an ominous feeling coiling in his gut. Duke Escalante gave his shoulder a firm, encouraging nudge.

Without further hesitation, Luciano charged down the hallway in long, fast strides. As he entered the last hall, the atmosphere thickened, and his eyes fell upon a long line of the crown prince's knights stationed along the right wall, guarding the doors to the balconies. He scoffed in disbelief and did not pause in his mission to get to the farthest balcony, where Inés was supposed to be. However, half of the knights stepped forward to block his path, forming an impenetrable wall.

"Lord Luciano. You may not enter, as His Highness is currently occupying this balcony," one knight said stiffly.

"I have come for my sister."

The knight did not budge. "There is no one but His Highness on the balcony."

Luciano's lips curled into a sardonic smile. "That is not what I was told."

"There are no ladies on this balcony. If you persist, we will report that you seek to spread an obscene rumor to taint His Highness's honor," the knight warned.

Luciano's jaw tightened. "Your master is the only one seeking to foment an 'obscene rumor'," he retorted, pinning the knight with a death glare. "Open the door."

"We cannot."

"If His Highness doesn't wish to lend credence to any indecent gossip, surely he would oblige a simple request. Inquire if I may enter."

"We cannot," came the unyielding reply.

"Inquire," Luciano commanded, his voice cutting through the air like steel.

But the knight remained firm and unyielding. "His Highness has expressly forbidden your entry, Lord Luciano."

***

Inés stood with her lower back pressed against the railing, her body taut with unease.

Oscar walked over to the door to listen to the commotion inside, gave her a gentle, comforting smile. "It seems like your brother is causing quite the scene. as overprotective as always. I must say, the dynamic between you two... it is quite bizarre. Almost too close, wouldn't you agree? It's no wonder people gossip about your unorthodox affections."

She remained silent, her fingers tightening into fists. She wouldn't rise to the bait.

"Of course, I never believed those rumors, because you have never betrayed me... At least not until you met him." His gaze flashed with cold fury. "That lowly painter."

Her tongue felt like a block of ice, unable to produce any words. She suppressed a bitter smile.

Oscar had no right to speak of betrayal. Not when he, too, remembered everything. He remembered, just as she did. He remembered how she had bled out in front of his very eyes in that other life. And yet, here he stood, daring to act as if she had done him wrong.

Inés knew how she had been regarded by the world in her second life where she ran away with Emiliano. Back then, she had only been sixteen years old. On the surface, she had been an insolent woman who betrayed her perfect, loving betrothed just three months before their marriage so that she could lay with another man. Every single city and village in Ortega had whispered that the noble young lady of House Valeztena had actually been a harlot rather than a dignified woman who was fit to marry the crown prince... that she had invited numerous other men into her bed until the crown prince couldn't handle it any longer. Indeed, she had been the noble harlot of Ortega and the personification of immorality and corruption. To the world, she was nothing but a filthy woman who had shamelessly conceived the child of a lowly commoner.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that she had been loathed by every single person who knew her name-even those who were not a part of Mendoza's high society knew exactly what she had done. Some had even labeled her traitorous act as treason, since she had betrayed the crown prince himself.

But every single moment of her life that didn't include Oscar had been perfect, even though her name had been endlessly defiled and criticized. She truly hadn't cared that she was living in poverty after "ruining" her marriage-even the process of ending her own life had been better than living with the monster that wore a human shell. Oscar had to know this better than anybody else, yet he had the galls to say she had betrayed him.

Perhaps the world had labeled her as a traitor because they simply didn't know any better. She was even willing to understand how Oscar had been shocked and disgusted when faced with her betrayal at just twenty years of age. However, "this" Oscar knew everything, and he had still tried to put her back in his cage... Truly, he had no right to call it a betrayal.

She remembered the places depicted in Emiliano's paintings: the countryside chapel in Viedma, the town of Entre Rios, the forest of Moreno, the plains of Rientes, and the port of Sevilla... There, she had basked in her newfound freedom after escaping Oscar for the first time. She hated the fact that Oscar's reptilian eyes had swept over those memories. He had thought of Emiliano, and... She frantically thought of Emiliano even as disjointed images and words flashed through her mind. He remembers me... A chill swept through her entire body. Suddenly, she felt the desire to run away from everyone and everything. She wanted to go somewhere far away where she could be completely alone.

Some of the anger dissipated from Oscar's face as he continued, "But... that pathetic worm did manage to split you from your brother. That's the only reason why I let you save him this time. After all, you are quite an intelligent woman, and I trusted that you wouldn't commit the same act of betrayal against me again."

She gritted her teeth and gripped the railing so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "How did she know?"

"There was nothing to know, since I have never forgotten you," Oscar said in a pitiful voice that made him sound like a heartbroken lover.

She twisted her lips in disgust. "I want to know how Her Highness knew about those paintings and the painter who created them."

Oscar hummed thoughtfully. "I believe it was a few weeks ago... I asked her to hold onto them for me, saying they would make the perfect gift for you since the painter was quite dear to you. I thought you'd be scared if you found out that I had obtained those paintings... so I meant to gift them in the far future when I found a good time for it. I never meant for it to be such a big shock."

"Is she... like you?"

His gaze was sharp and shrewd as he responded, "Like yourself, you mean?" 

She silently gritted her teeth, feeling a fire burning a hole through her chest.

He carefully took a step closer, as if she was some kind of wild animal. "No, Inés. The two of us are special."

Although he was wearing a kind smile on his handsome face as always, she only saw him as a twisted, vile monster.

"Alicia knows and remembers nothing. But she seems to be drawing some inferences on her own. Truly, I had no idea that she would decide to do something so insolent," he continued. "I only hope this didn't upset you. The painter never betrayed you, Inés..."

She remembered how much she had suffered back when she was married to Oscar. It had felt like her limbs were being severed one by one. In her head, she had lost her fingers, then her hands, then her forearms... at some point, she had been lying on the floor, unable to even crawl. Oscar had brought unimaginable despair and pain upon her, and now he was using his deceitful tongue to comfort her.

Oscar said gently, "The painter didn't sell any of his paintings that had anything to do with you. The soldiers of Barca barged into Don Joaquín's storeroom and took them by force. Your precious painter is probably laboring away in Bilbao, not knowing that I have the paintings and that you have seen them."

"Is that all you have to say?"

It was like Oscar hadn't heard her. His eyes momentarily flared with jealousy. "I'm sure he is still thinking of you every day with his insolent brain... Really, who cares about Alicia? I have finally discovered the evidence to prove that he remembers you-"

She cut him off coldly. "No, your wife discovered it."

"But I am the one who placed it within her reach and made her want it... all for you. I saw that your painter has a sponsor, unlike before. I suppose he is better suited to receiving your donations than trying to see you in a romantic light..." One corner of his lips curled up slightly. "How does it feel to know that your old lover still yearns for you, Inés?"

However, the image of Emiliano in her head had been replaced by Lourdes the moment Oscar mentioned the sponsorship, and she had immediately snapped back to reality. Everything felt distant all of a sudden-the terrifying guilt she felt toward Emiliano, the suffocating longing that found her whenever she remembered her past life, and even the vile man standing in front of her. Instead, she vividly remembered what she had been thinking as she entered the Barca manor and how she had felt as she glanced at the guests' faces.

Suddenly, she realized why Oscar hadn't killed Emiliano even though he despised the painter so much. He had been waiting for an opportunity to widen the chasm between herself and Cárcel just before Cárcel headed off to war.

She knew Oscar well, and he wasn't the kind of person who could have sat in Mendoza with a sane mind after discovering Lourdes's existence. Furthermore, she knew that he must have seen Emiliano whenever he looked at her, since Emiliano had been a significant presence in her life for so long, much like a dark shadow. He had probably grown hateful, disgusted, and distracted depending on how the shadow stretched and shrunk as the sun cycled across the sky.

It was only natural for one's vision to become narrower as they kept their eyes open for too long in the scorching sun-at some point, they were bound to accept the blurriness of their sight as if it had always been that way. This was exactly why Oscar hadn't seen Lourdes under the sun, even though the young man had the same red hair as himself and the deep blue eyes of the emperor. In the end, Oscar had been completely blind to the mark that his mother's lady-in-waiting left on the emperor's son.

A light chuckle escaped her lips. "I am happy. Is this how you felt when you realized that I remember you?"

"Happy...?" he muttered thoughtfully. "You have no idea the lengths I went to in order to see you again, Inés."

In her head, she told him, You have no idea the lengths I would go to in order to never see you again.