Kiraihhh

In a world where loyalty is a fragile illusion and power corrupts even the noblest of hearts, a fallen knight awakens in the body of the very prince whose kingdom he helped destroy.

Caelan, a commoner-turned-knight, devoted his life to the kingdom of Elaris—until betrayal by the man he loved, Khalid Caelum, shattered it all. Stabbed and left to die, Caelan reincarnates as Flynn Winterbell, the estranged crown prince of a rival nation. Haunted by his past life, Flynn must now navigate court politics, half-brothers with hidden motives, and the dangerous game of power—all while the man who betrayed him, now a duke, reappears at his side.

But the embers of love refuse to die. As Flynn grapples with his lingering feelings and a truth buried beneath crowns and lies, a greater threat looms—one that ties kingdoms, memories, and destiny together.

Can Flynn uncover the secrets of his death and forge a new path, or will history repeat itself?

Beneath the crown

The palace gardens were cloaked in quiet snow, the moonlight reflecting off the ivory expanse like crushed glass. Trees stood still in their frozen vigil as the wind moved gently through their branches, carrying with it a hush that wrapped around the court like a secret.

‎Flynn no, he walked through it all with the bearing of a prince but the heart of a stranger.

‎It had been days since he awoke in this foreign body, in a kingdom that once marked him an enemy. He had played the role of Flynn Winterbell with calculated grace, mimicking what little he gathered from servants, guards, and distant court murmurs. But even behind a mask of royal pride, the hollowness clung to him.

‎He missed the weight of armor. He missed the sting of cold steel against his palm. He missed—

‎The name slipped from his lips like a blade drawn too fast. And just like that, the illusion of peace cracked.

‎He paused beneath the skeletal frame of a willow tree, eyes scanning the starlit sky. That night haunted him the sting of betrayal not dulled by death or time. The look on Khalid's face, twisted in a smug smile, was burned into his memory.

‎The familiar voice pulled him from the storm of memory. Elior approached, his breath misting in the cold, a warm cloak draped over one arm. He offered it without a word.

‎Flynn accepted it, letting the fur-lined warmth settle across his shoulders.

‎"You shouldn't wander alone. Especially not this late," Elior said, voice soft.

‎"Worried, not watching," Elior replied with a faint smile.

‎Flynn turned away, unsure what to do with the sudden warmth in his chest.

‎Elior continued, "You've been... distant since your recovery."

‎Flynn glanced at him. "Wouldn't you be, if you had woken up and found the world a stranger's dream?"

‎There was silence. Not confusion, but understanding.

‎"I know you're not the same as before," Elior said. "But I also know this there's more strength in you now than ever."

‎The words struck deeper than Flynn expected. Elior, standing close enough to touch, felt like the only stable thing in this palace of whispers.

‎"Thank you," Flynn murmured. And he meant it.

‎Before Elior could respond, footsteps echoed behind them.

‎A soldier approached, bowed low. "Your Highness, an urgent letter from the western province. A diplomat is en route."

‎Flynn's brows drew together. "Who?"

‎The soldier hesitated, then read the name aloud:

‎Elior watched Flynn carefully, noting the sudden stillness, the flicker of something sharp and unreadable in his eyes.

‎Flynn looked up at the falling snow, and somewhere within it, saw blood.

‎His voice was calm. But his soul was not.

‎Some ghosts weren't content with haunting memories. Some came knocking.

‎And Khalid Caelum traitor, beloved was one of them.

Whispers Beneath the Snow