The room smelled faintly of lotus and wet stone.
They were laying her down after they'd found her body afloat at the pool. Madam Sora had just adjusted the silk pillows beneath the queen's head, her hands trembling as she murmured quiet prayers under her breath so the queen soul might rest in peace. The marble floor still held the chill of night, and droplets of water fell slowly from the soaked hems of their robes, tapping softly against the polished surface.
Yura, Madam Sora daughter and Hanuel's best friend, stood near the bed clutching a lantern with both hands. The warm light shook slightly with her nerves, shadows stretching long across the chamber walls. She was scared and it was evident on her face even though as a maid it was not meant to be so.
Jin, the guard and yura's brother, lingered near the door.
His face had gone pale minutes ago and had not recovered since.
They had not spoken much since pulling the queen's body from the royal pool.
Some things did not need words.
The coronation was only hours away.
The queen was dead.
And if the palace discovered the truth—
Jin swallowed hard.
"I will warm her" Madam Sora whispered.
Getting up to cover the dead body. Her hands trembling as the blanket neared the body.
Her long black hair spread across the white silk like ink spilled over snow. Her skin looked almost too pale under the lantern light, lips faintly blue, lashes resting softly against her cheeks.
For a moment, the room held its breath.
Then—
Her chest jerked.
A sharp, violent gasp tore through the silence.
Air rushed into her lungs like someone breaking through the surface of water.
Madam Sora screamed.
The lantern nearly slipped from Yura's hands.
"My Queen!"
Hanuel's eyes flew open.
Amber.
Bright.
Alive.
The guard stumbled backward so abruptly his shoulder slammed against the wooden door.
"That's impossible—" he choked.
Hanuel pushed herself upright with a confused movement, her long hair sliding over her shoulder.
For a moment she simply blinked at them before looking around.
The ceiling above her was painted with cranes drifting through clouds. Lanterns swayed gently from carved beams, their soft light painting the room in gold and shadow.
None of it looked familiar.
Rachel blinked again.
Her lungs burned.
The last thing she remembered was water.
Cold.
Endless.
Her throat tightened.
Minseo's face.
The push.
The cliff disappearing behind her.
And the ocean swallowing everything.
Her gaze snapped downward.
Hands rested on her lap.
Small.
Pale.
Almost Porcelain white.
Not hers.
Rachel stared.
Slowly she turned them over, studying the delicate fingers like they belonged to someone else.
Because they did.
Her head lifted.
The woman in front of her was crying openly now.
"My Queen… you're alive."
Rachel's brow furrowed.
Queen?
She looked around the room again.
Silk curtains.
Jade furniture.
Walls carved with waves and cranes.
Actors, her mind suggested desperately.
This has to be actors.
Some kind of historical drama set.
Her gaze landed on the young girl clutching the lantern.
The girl bowed quickly, relief flooding her face.
"Your Majesty, you frightened us."
Rachel blinked slowly.
Majesty.
Right.
Sure.
She dragged her gaze to the man near the door.
The guard looked like death itself.
Not relieved.
Not confused.
Terrified.
Rachel noticed immediately.
She didn't say anything about it.
Instead she looked back at the older woman whose hands still gripped hers tightly.
The woman's eyes shone with fierce emotion.
"You returned to us," she whispered, voice shaking. "Heaven has not abandoned you."
Rachel opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Then tried again.
"I'm… fine."
The voice that came out was soft.
Elegant.
And definitely not her usual tone.
Rachel almost looked around to see who had spoken.
Madam Sora exhaled in relief.
"Praise the heavens."
The guard dropped to one knee so suddenly Rachel flinched.
"Your Majesty must rest," he said quickly.
His eyes still refused to meet hers due to fright.
Interesting.
Rachel filed that away quietly, 'they must be great actors' she thought.
The girl with the lantern stepped forward.
"I will prepare fresh robes for Her Majesty," she said gently.
Rachel nodded slowly.
She had absolutely no idea what was happening.
But she was not about to scream about it in front of strangers.
They helped her settle into the enormous bed, adjusting blankets and pillows like she might break apart if handled roughly.
Madam Sora lingered the longest.
Her hand rested on Rachel's shoulder.
"You must regain your strength before the coronation tomorrow."
Rachel's brain nearly short-circuited.
Coronation?
Tomorrow?
But she didn't say anything.
Madam Sora squeezed her hand once more before standing.
"Rest, my queen."
The three of them bowed.
Then left the room.
The door slid closed with a soft click.
Silence flooded the chamber.
Rachel sat perfectly still.
Five seconds passed.
Then she shot out of bed.
"What the hell?"
Her voice echoed in the massive room.
She turned in a slow circle.
Everything looked painfully real.
Too real.
Her eyes landed on a mirror across the chamber.
Rachel walked toward it slowly.
The girl staring back was breathtaking.
Long midnight hair spilled down her back like silk. Porcelain skin glowed softly under the lantern light.
Amber eyes stared back at her.
Not brown.
Amber.
Rachel lifted a trembling hand.
The reflection copied the motion perfectly.
She touched the base of her throat.
Just beneath the collarbone rested a small birthmark shaped like a water droplet.
Rachel frowned.
"What a weird mark."
Her pulse began to race.
She stepped back from the mirror and began searching the room like someone desperate for proof of reality… in which she was.
Her gaze landed on a desk by the window.
A book rested there.
Bound in blue silk.
Rachel approached slowly.
She hesitated before opening it.
Inside, elegant handwriting filled the pages.
A diary.
She began to read.
At first the entries were neat and careful.
Childhood lessons.
Language studies.
Embroidery practice.
But the tone changed as the pages turned.
Whispers of curse.
A mother who died during childbirth.
A father who never looked at her with warmth again.
A palace that treated her existence like an unfortunate omen.
Rachel kept reading.
This girl had tried so hard.
Perfect etiquette.
Perfect skills.
Perfect silence.
All in the quiet hope that someone—anyone—might someday love her.
The final entry was short.
Tonight is my wedding night.
Perhaps tomorrow he will finally see me.
Perhaps tomorrow I will not be alone anymore.
Rachel closed the diary slowly.
Her throat tightened painfully.
"That's…" she whispered.
"That's brutal."
She leaned back against the desk.
The room felt heavier now.
"Hanuel," Rachel murmured.
The name felt strange on her tongue.
This girl had lived eighteen years without warmth.
And then she died.
Rachel exhaled slowly.
"Okay," she said quietly to the empty room.
"So we both drowned."
Her eyes drifted back to the mirror.
The amber-eyed queen looked back calmly.
Rachel crossed her arms.
"Well," she muttered.
"I guess we're sharing now."
Outside the palace, the kingdom of Auremis slept peacefully beneath the stars. While Rachel made a promise in the quiet of her chambers.
"No matter what happens we will go through it together. Your body my soul"