But before long, their circumstances changed drastically.

The young lady of the marquisate withdrew her request for the blood samples to be destroyed.

Eloise immediately sensed that something was wrong.

As expected, her unease had not been misplaced.

Shortly after the announcement of the Second Prince’s engagement to her, the young lady disappeared without trace. Two years passed before Eloise saw the pair again, and this time their reunion came with news that shook the entire empire.

When the duke visited the temple after all that time, he shamelessly asked her to keep an eye on the young lady while she stayed within the sanctuary. He wanted to know whether her health was holding up and whether she was in any danger.

Eloise had been worried about Lydia as well.

She had checked in on her from time to time to make sure she was OK.

But that was all. She had never told Sihon any of this. She had no intention of easing his conscience.

Then, today, Sihon requested an urgent meeting, asking if she could spare a moment.

For a man with hardly any faith to set foot in the temple, there could only be one reason.

“Your Eminence, thank you for granting me your precious time.”

“Think nothing of it. So then, what brings you here today, Your Grace?”

Once the formalities were over, Sihon took something out of the inner pocket of his coat.

It was an antique hourglass, engraved with laurel motifs on both sides.

Eloise looked from him to the hourglass, confused. Then her eyes widened in shock.

“Don’t tell me…”

“As you’ve guessed, it’s a relic that turns back time. In my family, we call it the Resetting Hour.”

Eloise gasped softly, her lips parting in astonishment.

A strange energy was indeed shimmering faintly around the hourglass — not magic or divine power, but something altogether different; a scent reminiscent of fresh leaves in a sunlit forest.

“Why are you showing this to me?”

“I understand that chosen priests possess unique abilities, visions of the future, oracles concerning the nation’s fate, or the power to glimpse the history bound within certain relics.”

“Are you asking me to read the memory contained in this hourglass?”

She couldn’t understand his intentions. She had no connection to the artefact or to him. What could possibly come of showing her the past?

Sihon’s voice sank low.

“Yes. And I’d like you to share what you see… with someone else.”

When he had finished, he handed her the hourglass.

Eloise frowned slightly as she took it, pausing for a moment before closing her eyes and channeling divine power into it.

A faint light flared from her fingertips.

Immediately, the hourglass began to resonate, vibrating in tune with her power.

The Resetting Hour began to reveal the events of the last day it had turned back time, one after another.

Scenes flooded through her mind like a spinning panorama. Eloise trembled and broke out in a cold sweat.

When she finally opened her eyes again, she was still shaking and unable to regain her composure.

Her face had turned as pale as parchment, and she was walking unsteadily.

Alarmed, Sihon reached out to steady her.

But Eloise pushed him away, bracing herself against the wall as she spoke in a trembling voice.

“My God… this is horrific. No wonder I couldn’t see her future, it’s because she died. Four times now, before she even reached twenty-five…”

“Wait, four times? What do you mean?”

Sihon’s eyebrows knitted together in disbelief.

Eloise held out the hourglass with a heavy sigh.

The moment he took it, she drew upon her power and projected the visions she had witnessed of the past and future directly into his mind.

Overwhelmed by the sudden flood of images, Sihon was swept away by them.

His face contorted in anguish as he confronted the brutal truth.

‘It wasn’t just once.’

While he lay unconscious after drinking the poisoned tea, she suffered a fate far worse than he could ever have imagined.

Captured by the emperor, she died within a year.

In her first life, she wasted away while carrying his child. In her second life, she drank poison hidden in her ring. In her third life, she threw herself into the lake at the annex.

Each time, the emperor was utterly broken by despair.

Yet even as grief consumed him, he never reflected or repented.

Instead, he endured months of madness before turning back the clock to the day their marriage was sealed and their wedding night began, exactly one year earlier.

And so, by the emperor’s will, she died and was forced to live again three times.

Only on the fourth attempt did she finally escape that hellish cycle and begin her current life.

Sihon’s heart felt as though it were turning to ash. He clutched at his chest, sank to his knees and tore at his clothes as he struggled for breath.

His bloodshot eyes were filled with tears that streamed endlessly down his face.

Seeing the woman he loved die four times was unbearable.

If only it had been a nightmare.

But tragically, her death had been all too real.

Along with the crushing sorrow came a seething thought:

Could Daniel have truly remained untouched by it all?

The memory of what he had seen on the day of the annulment, just before his new life began, never left Sihon’s mind.

In that final memory, Daniel showed no hint of remorse.

He simply ordered her not to die and promised that, even if she escaped, he would find her again.

This was probably because he knew that time would reverse and she would be brought back to life.

He had seen the Resetting Hour activate before he could register her death.

Twisted as his emotions were, Daniel had loved her.

Therefore, her death must have tormented him, especially since he was the one who had caused it.

This is why Sihon thought there might be a chance if Daniel witnessed her death.

Daniel clung to the hope that she would one day come to love him.

However, if he discovered that he had failed in a previous life and that his obsession had repeatedly destroyed her, perhaps his fixation would finally waver.

For now, he simply couldn’t let go because he had no memory of the regressions.

Even so, Sihon could not be certain.

The last reaction he had seen before the final regression still haunted him. Daniel’s obsession ran so deep that revealing the truth might have the opposite effect.

After much deliberation, Sihon abandoned the plan, though a faint possibility remained.

However, inaction was no longer an option.

Yesterday, his mother returned from an audience with the Emperor bearing grim news.

“His Majesty insists on having Lady Arwen.” He said that he would rather keep her by his side and watch her wither than bless the happiness of a woman who will never be his. He knows she’ll suffer, which troubles him, but he still can’t let her go.”

The situation could hardly have been worse at that point.

Ultimately, Sihon decided to resurrect the plan he had once discarded.

However, he hadn’t imagined that Lydia had already endured three more painful lives before this one.

Learning that Daniel had been devastated each time she died and had been reduced to a shell of a man was valuable information, but it weighed heavily on Sihon.

At the cardinal’s cool question, Sihon finally composed himself.

“Should I show this to His Majesty exactly as it is?”

“Yes. Please do.”

When Sihon inclined his head, Eloise added carefully, her tone uneasy.

“But only if His Majesty consents. I can’t show him anything against his will.”

The only reason she had shown it to Sihon earlier was because he had insisted that permission wasn’t needed when it was the seer who was being shown the vision. However, according to temple law, showing someone else’s future required that person’s consent.

If the subject refused, no prophecy could be revealed. Some people simply preferred not to know about their misfortune before it happened.

Eloise feared the emperor might refuse, but Sihon spoke with unwavering certainty.

“No. He’ll want to see it. If it concerns her, he’ll want to know everything.”

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

By the time Sihon reached the courtyard, Lydia and Daniel’s conversation was drawing to an end.

“…You said you’ve decided to forgive the Marchioness of Amaranth?”

“Yes. It may sound unbelievable, but I mean it.”

“That’s impossible. How could you?”

“Of course, it won’t be easy. But I intend to try.”

Daniel narrowed his eyes in disbelief.

Lydia, calm and collected, continued in a quiet voice.

“The world only knows that I pressed charges against my parents. But there’s more to the story. I met the Marchioness briefly in Lanier. She apologized and begged for my forgiveness.”

“And then?”

“At first, I refused. I asked her if she thought that apologising to me would be enough. The world still believes her to be a respectable noblewoman. As long as she hides behind that image, I said, I could never accept her remorse. Then she said she’d do whatever it took to ease my heart.”

“…”

“I gave her three conditions. Firstly, she had to confess her sins at the temple. Second, she had to humbly accept public condemnation. Thirdly, she would testify as a witness to the Marquis’s crimes. If she did all that, I would try to forgive her and drop any charges I had considered filing against her.”

Her voice trembled slightly as she recalled that day.

It had been an excruciating decision to forgive her mother, even if only conditionally.

“They call it “*buse”, but what she did to me was almost t*rture.”

Honestly, I didn’t think she’d do it. She cares too much about her reputation. But the Marchioness surprised me by agreeing to everything. She even told me to go ahead with the lawsuit. She said she’d pay her dues. However, when I considered how much she was about to lose, I didn’t feel happy at all.

Her emerald eyes were lowered and soft, exuding a serene quality.

Realizing her sincerity, Daniel was rendered speechless and unable to reply.

Lydia met his wavering, opalescent gaze.

“Your Majesty once gave me a choice: to accept your proposal willingly, or to marry you out of fear and coercion. Now, I’ll give you a choice as well. Will you earn my hatred and resentment, or will you seek forgiveness and reconciliation? The decision is yours.”

With that, Lydia rose from her seat.

Daniel half reached out as if to stop her, then drew his hand back and exhaled a long breath. His expression was a tangled mix of frustration and confusion.

It was then that Sihon finally stepped forward towards them.

Lydia looked slightly startled.

Daniel, on the other hand, greeted him with a faint, unreadable smile that could easily have passed for the polite expression he wore around any other noble.

But he was far from pleasant. When his gaze flicked towards Sihon’s hair, it was glacial, almost cutting.

His hair was now divided into two distinct layers: silver on top, where it had begun to grow out, and black underneath — the remnants of his old dye job.

As there was no longer any need to hide it, he let his hair grow naturally, trimming away the black strands as they grew longer. He waited for the day when only his original colour remained.

Black hair. Violet eyes. Tall and broad-shouldered. Refined manners. A birthday on 25 July.

This is how the academy student described the man she had been on dates with.

When Daniel first heard this, he dismissed it; yet part of him immediately suspected Sihon.

The agents and royal guards he later sent south confirmed this beyond doubt.

Although their relationship had ended, the thought that the duke had possessed her, even briefly, filled Daniel with rage.

Now, confronted with a living reminder of it in the form of those dark strands of hair, his composure wavered.

Sensing the Emperor’s unspoken resentment, Sihon smirked faintly, prompting an icier look still from Daniel.

Lydia glanced between the two men before speaking.

“Is there something you wished to say to me?”

“Oh, I’m not here to see you today.”

“What? Then…”

Lydia trailed off, taken aback by the unexpected response.

Daniel reacted much the same way, with a look of puzzlement flickering across his face before he curved his lips into a perfectly measured smile.

“It’s been a while, Duke Blair.”

“Your Majesty.”

Sihon greeted, bowing with formality.

“Do you have business with me?”

“Yes. But I’d prefer if we spoke elsewhere. It’s not a matter fit to discuss here.”

It sounded like it was going to be a long conversation.

Lydia nodded politely, excused herself, and stepped away.

Daniel’s gaze lingered reluctantly on her retreating figure before he turned back to Sihon.

“Then let’s get to the point. We’re both busy men, after all.”

His tone was dry and laced with boredom and thinly veiled irritation.

At best, he assumed the duke intended to lecture him with the same tiresome words his old nurse had used.

“That’s exactly what I intended. I’ll take you to the chapel.”

Daniel frowned, but followed anyway.

At the end of the corridor, the emperor’s attendants stopped and looked at him as if to ask whether they should accompany him.

Daniel dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

Soon, the two men arrived at the chapel. Inside, someone was already waiting.

It was Cardinal Eloise.

Daniel tilted his head slightly in surprise.

“Your Eminence… what brings you here?”