They say memories are often tied to scents. But for her, scents only brought back pain.  

The smell of long-brewed medicinal herbs, the stinging tang of crushed poultices, and the faint metallic scent of blood.  

The room was thick with a musty odor that made the maid wrinkle her nose in distaste. Yet the woman at the center of it all remained indifferent, as though her senses of smell and touch had long since dulled.  

Her body bore dark, horrific marks, evidence of countless injuries. But she paid no attention to her wounds, silently pulling on a long-sleeved dress.  

This routine was nothing new to her. Physical pain had always been a part of her life. Whether she was coughing up blood from internal injuries or delirious with fever, she had come to accept suffering as a natural state of being.  

Unfortunately, those around her didn’t feel the same way.  

She recalled the only plea and warning her dearest friend had ever given her.  

“…I wish you wouldn’t love him. You might—no, you will—die because of it!”  

Her friend’s voice had trembled with fear, tears streaming down her face. And what had she said in response?  

“So, does that make him happy?”  

Her reply had been devoid of concern for her own life, spoken like someone utterly consumed by love.  

Even after wounding the hearts of those she held dear, even after pushing her body to its limits, she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t sever this deep, clinging emotion. Like a fool who knew only one path, she pressed forward with a singular purpose.  

“…Is he still waiting for me?”  

“Yes, my lady. He’s in the greenhouse annex.”  

Chartia habitually checked her complexion in the mirror. She applied a light layer of makeup to bring some color to her pale face before rising from her seat.  

Her steps toward the greenhouse quickened, her body moving instinctively, like a conditioned reflex. It reminded her of Pavlov’s dog, and the thought made her smirk bitterly.  

Before long, she reached the glass greenhouse.  

The air inside was noticeably warmer, instantly heating her cheeks. Outside, the weather was cold, but this place felt like summer had arrived.  

She avoided looking at the roses that resembled someone she knew and headed deeper inside. It didn’t take long before she found him, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.  

Those striking blue eyes beneath his eyelids, his scarred yet gentle hands, and the soft curve of his lips—everything about him was what she loved most.  

But now, all of it belonged to someone else.  

Eyes filled with sunlight, hands gently intertwined, and smiles that radiated pure joy. Yes, the phrase “a picture-perfect couple” was made for them.

As Chartia watched the man and woman standing so tenderly together—her younger sister and her fiancé—she couldn’t help but think so.  

Her mind screamed at her to leave, but her feet betrayed her, pulling her closer to them. She muffled the sound of her footsteps and crept forward. As she drew nearer, their voices became clear.  

“I love you,” Julian said.  

“…I do too. Honestly, I always have,” Rosenia replied.  

This perfect confession meant only one thing: his happiness was with her, and now he had finally grasped it.

Chartia should feel happy for him since she wanted him to be happy. 

But it’s strange. Why does the world feel like it’s shaking? Why are her eyes filling with tears? Why does it hurt so much, as though her heart is being torn apart?

In the midst of that unbearable feeling, Chartia admitted it. She had been in pain for a long time, and now, she couldn’t endure it any longer.

Finally, she turned away from the breathtakingly beautiful scene, fleeing as though her life depended on it.  

Before all her efforts, her body, and her love turned to foam, she decided to leave him.

* * *  

People often think of death as something extraordinary. But for someone who had lived on the brink of life and death, it was anything but. Especially for someone who had always been sick, living with the constant possibility of dying.  

“Finally.”  

As she exhaled her last breath, sensing the end of her life, only that one word echoed in her mind.  

Relief was the dominant emotion that enveloped her body and soul. But even within that relief, a shallow regret lingered, like water barely filling a dish.  

She had thought she wouldn’t have any regrets. After all, she’d had more than enough time to prepare for death. But as the end drew near, small regrets began to surface one by one.  

I should’ve asked to be cremated with that book I cherished so much. I should’ve eaten as much cake as I wanted. I should’ve gone to the sea instead of just watching videos of it.  

Yes, those were her regrets.  

But those fleeting thoughts quickly faded. Her consciousness began to blur, and her body felt as light as a feather. The heaviness she had carried, the pain that clung to her like a curse, disappeared entirely.  

But her peace was short-lived.  

Suddenly, a chilling sensation washed over her, like someone had doused her in cold water.  

And then there was the crushing pressure, as though she were sinking underwater.  

She heard the sound of rising bubbles as icy water rushed into her nose and mouth. The shockingly real sensation made her eyes snap open instinctively.  

Strands of hair floated like seaweed, air bubbles escaped her nose and mouth, and everything around her was a deep, endless blue.  

The scene wasn’t unexpected, but the pain of inhaling water was unbearable.  

She didn’t know why she was dying a second time, but she wanted no part of this. Desperately, she flailed her arms and legs.  

But it wasn’t her struggle that saved her.  

A strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her swiftly to the surface.  

“Cough, cough!”  

She clung to her savior like a lifeline, coughing violently. She couldn’t think straight through the pain.  

“Am I alive? No, I should already be dead. But this pain… this situation… What is this? Wasn’t death supposed to be the end?”  

While she was drowning in confusion and pain, a large, warm hand gently patted her back, as if soothing a child.  

Pat, pat.

The comforting touch helped her gradually steady her breathing. As air filled her lungs again, the pain began to subside.  

Finally regaining her senses, she glanced down at her feet. The water barely reached the man’s waist.  

Why had it felt so deep?  

No, more importantly, what was going on? Why had she been pulled out of the water? 

Nothing made sense.  

As she struggled to grasp the situation, a low, gentle voice pulled her back to reality.  

“Are you all right?”  

Her dazed eyes, which had been fixed on the water’s surface, slowly shifted to the man who had saved her.  

Even through her blurred vision, she could clearly make out his features: jet-black hair like the night sky, piercing blue eyes like the ocean, and strikingly beautiful features. Even the small scar beneath his eyebrow seemed to add to his allure.  

Her lips trembled as she stared at him. Her hands, clutching his shoulders, tightened instinctively.  

She recognized him immediately.  

“…Julian?”  

Her voice, dry and cracked, escaped her lips.  

His vivid blue eyes wavered slightly at the sound of his name. Though he said nothing, that alone confirmed her suspicion.  

He was standing before her. This had to be a dream.  

Meeting him in reality was impossible because… he was just a character in a book.  

Logically, this couldn’t be real. But she dismissed her rational thoughts.  

“This isn’t a dream.”  

The warmth of his body against her cold skin and the pain she had just experienced were undeniably real. The chill of the water still soaking her legs was proof enough.  

It was absurd, unbelievable, and surreal, but as she finally accepted that this was reality, her expression crumpled.  

He was really here.  

And that alone made all the pain, even the death she had just endured, seem insignificant.  

Perhaps this was a gift from the gods, pitying her for her lifeless existence. She didn’t know why she had woken up after death or why the world had changed. But one thing was clear.  

She had come to see him.