When Isaya opened her eyes to the empty air, a familiar, aching face suddenly overlapped with hers.

The face of her birth mother was erased from her memory the moment she stepped into the royal palace.

Her mother was barely conscious as the Saint-au royal guards dragged her away by her hair, gazing blankly into space.

They had been separated without so much as an explanation.

Had Isabel known it would be the last time, she might have struggled harder to stay with her. This lingering regret was heavy and unresolved.

“Um… if it’s not too forward, may I… touch your face?”

It was an unexpected request, but Isabel gave a silent nod.
Isaya’s hand gently met her cheek.

Her touch was slow, delicate—tracing every feature with quiet care, from the corners of her eyes, along the bridge of her nose, down to the shape of her lips.

It felt like watching a brush painting something onto a blank canvas, one careful stroke at a time.

“So this is the expression you were wearing.”

“…”

“Don’t pity me so easily, Sister.”

Her voice was impossibly soft—but the words took Isabel’s breath away.

‘Don’t pity me so easily.’

Something sharp and cold pierced her chest.

That voice! That tone! That edge.

Why did it feel so familiar?

Someone had once told her not to show shallow sympathy. They had piercing, jet-black eyes and had pointed out things she hadn’t even realised about herself.

But now, all she felt was an ache for a loss she couldn’t name. Like trying to grasp smoke with bare hands, the memory slipped away, leaving only a sensation clinging to her fingertips.

“Isaya, I…”

She opened her mouth to speak, but she felt dizzy and lost her train of thought.

“I… Isaya.”

She had only just managed to call out when the ground beneath her feet lurched suddenly.

Everything began to shake.

The greenhouse that had stood whole moments ago shattered. Every pane of glass collapsed in an instant.

And even Isaya’s calm face—gently calling out, Sister—shattered along with it.

‘…Please take care of—’

Just one phrase was left behind.

The butterflies that had been perched quietly on the large leaves and the walls of the greenhouse took flight all at once.

Their sudden movement filled the air with a swirl of colours, leaving Isabel feeling dizzy.

The sight blurred her vision. She reached out, but their wings merely brushed her fingertips as they flew beyond her reach.

‘Isaya!’

Desperate to cry out, Isabel opened her mouth in panic. The moment she did, black water surged up from the broken floor, engulfing her completely.

She sank deeper and deeper, unable to guess how far down she was.

She was swallowed whole by darkness.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

“Mmph…!”

Water rushed up her nose. The pain of it entering her nasal passages and flowing down her throat caused her to open her eyes.

“Cough—! Kuh, cough—!”

“I-Isabel?”

‘Isabel…!’

“Kuh… cough, cough!”

She was barely conscious, coughing violently, when a frantic voice cut through the ringing in her ears. Someone was calling her name, but her body wouldn’t obey.

Nothing felt real. She couldn’t tell whether she was dreaming or not.

Gasping for breath, she tried to spit out the lukewarm water that was still in her mouth. Just as her panicked mind began to make sense of her surroundings, she felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around her waist and pull her in for a hug.

“Are you awake?”

Before she could even fully recognize the voice, she was already in Kailhart’s arms.

“Goddamn it… how—”

He cursed under his breath, his voice rough with strain, and held her even tighter.

But—
She couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t get enough air.

Not only that, but her vision was also completely blurred as if shrouded in fog and she couldn’t focus on anything. Feeling dizzy, Isabel swayed on her feet and tried to close her eyes, but Kailhart pulled her firmly into his arms and supported her unsteady body.

The last thing she saw before losing consciousness cut through her like a blade.

Yellow sandstorms sweeping across the wasteland and swallowing them whole.

The sudden sinking of her feet.

Dark red liquid splattered across her body, staining her skin and burning her mind crimson.

“Haah… hah…”

Her head was a mess. Everything was tangled.

Gunfire echoed.

Blades clashed two or three times, repeatedly.

Someone pulled her by the hair and dragged her away.

She could still smell the familiar, acrid scent of poison in the air, and could still feel the burning sensation on her scalp.

It all hit her at once, crashing into her body—and she couldn’t think straight.

So she didn’t know anymore.

“Isabel.”

She didn’t know if what she was seeing was the past, the present, the future, or just another hallucination.

“Isabel…!”

She didn’t even know how to breathe.

“Breathe slowly.”

As if in response to her silent struggle, he cupped her neck gently.

Kailhart leaned down, his hot breath pressing against her mouth as it passed through her lips and into her lungs.

Isabel’s fingertips trembled.

“That’s it. Just like that—”

“Haah… mmph…”

“Inhale deeply. And exhale. Follow my lead.”

His voice—whispered like a plea—brushed against her, tender and urgent, like a first breath of life.

Isabel managed to open her eyes, just barely. And there he was—Kailhart—his eyes flushed red and twisted in anguish.

With each stroke of his hand, soothing her body wracked with hyperventilation, her breathing slowly began to calm.

So did her racing heart. Her strength melted away in the lukewarm water, leaving her feeling weak.

“Don’t close your eyes.”

As if sensing this, he urged her on, helping her breathe repeatedly. She wanted to pull away, even just for a moment, but her limbs refused to obey her.

They were frozen in place.

“Ugh…”

But wait—Kailhart, aren’t you supposed to be busy right now? Isn’t this usually the hour you’re buried in state affairs?

Especially with all the border conflicts lately… how are you here, with everything on your plate?

She tried to ask. Her lips parted, but only a dry rasp escaped.

With effort, Isabel reached up and gripped his arm. Her throat felt raw, parched—like it hadn’t spoken in days.

Even though she was submerged in water, her mouth was bone-dry, as if something that had been sealed tight for far too long had finally begun to crack open.

It was only then, as the sound of gently lapping water filled her ears, that she realized.

Her entire body was submerged in a bath.

Splash.

Even the sound of her arm hitting the water’s surface felt oddly distant.

His warmth against her skin felt searing—and desperate.

As Kailhart frantically checked her drenched body for injuries, the scene overlapped with a memory from long ago.

“Wake up, Isabel… Isabel!”

That voice, shaking her as her vision blurred by the second—she could almost see that face again.

“…Kail?”

The single word scraped from her raw throat twisted his expression in an instant.

“Isabel?”

His voice shook. He clung to her as if afraid she would vanish at any moment. But even his strength had its limits—and Isabel’s gaze slipped out of focus again.

She couldn’t hold on to anything. Her body sank quickly, and the harder she tried to grasp the moment, the faster it slipped through her fingers.

It felt familiar. As if it had happened before.

“I didn’t care if I got hurt—I just wanted to protect you.”

Even that bl＊＊d-stained whisper was pulled under, swallowed by the rippling water.

“Isabel.”

Through blurred vision, she could barely make out the movement of his throat as he gritted his teeth, trying to move her unresponsive limbs.

‘…Kailhart, what’s with that face? That’s not like you.’

“You don’t have to force yourself to remember anything.”

His voice was low—and wavered, unlike anything she’d ever heard from him.

Was this really Kailhart?

Everything felt distant: her vision, her hearing, and her body.

She could sense her dulled senses slowly returning one by one, but even that was difficult. All she could do was try to breathe in her damaged lungs.

Then—
A warm sigh brushed her ear.
His pulse, his body heat—all of it surrounded her.

And in that moment, something flickered red across her vision.

The water.
It wasn’t black.

A soft, reddish tint swirled through the liquid, wrapping around her pale, n*ked body. It lapped gently over her chest.

‘But my period isn’t even close… Why is there bl＊＊d?’

Before she could finish the thought, another cough forced its way up. She covered her mouth and curled in on herself, coughing again and again.

“Isabel…”

And then—ah.

Her eyes wavered as she looked at her palm.

Bl＊＊d.

‘I’m coughing bl＊＊d?’

She felt no pain in her chest—nothing obvious, nothing that explained this.
It didn’t make sense.

What was happening to her body?

But that wasn’t the only strange thing.

Submerged in the warm bathwater, she finally noticed both of her arms.

Something had been inserted into the crooks of her elbows. Multiple things.

They were long, thread-like tubes trailing up out of the bathwater.

Isabel furrowed her brows mid-cough.

IV lines. She was hooked up to IVs.

And yet, they didn’t feel like foreign objects in her body. There was no discomfort. No pain. That, too, felt wrong.

Everything about this situation felt unreal.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Just lean on me.”

She could hardly believe it.

As Isabel hunched over and coughed up bl＊＊d, Kailhart gently rubbed her back, pulling her into his arms. He was calm, as if he had been expecting this all along.

He didn’t panic. He didn’t flinch. He simply held her, worrying over her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

It felt strange.

So unfamiliar.

Everything about Kailhart felt utterly unfamiliar.