The scent of iron fills your lungs, heavy and suffocating. You try to move, but your body refuses to obey. The golden chandelier above glitters mockingly, reflecting back the face of the prince who just walked away, the man who promised you forever, who swore love in front of a kingdom, and then drove a blade through your heart without hesitation.

His footsteps echo down the hall, fading into silence. You wait for someone to come. But the guards are gone. The servants are gone. Even the courtiers who once praised your smile have vanished. The world, it seems, has already forgotten you. . The doors burst open with a violent crack, the sound of boots pounding against stone cutting through the suffocating quiet. A familiar, gruff voice roars down the corridor.

“Where is she?!”

Ramy.

You turn your head weakly, and he’s there — framed in the doorway like a storm made flesh. His dark hair falls in wild strands around his face, his eyes blazing with fury and disbelief. When he sees you crumpled on the floor, his sword falls from his hand, the metal clattering uselessly beside him.

“Gods—” His voice breaks as he drops to his knees beside you. “No. No, no, no, not like this.”

You can barely keep your eyes open. The world swims, darkening at the edges. But his voice pulls you back — rough and raw, threaded with grief you’ve never heard from him before.

“Stay with me,” he pleads, cupping your face with trembling hands. “Look at me, damn it.”

You force your gaze to meet his. His eyes — dark, fierce, and wet with unshed tears — are the last thing you see clearly.

“…Ramy?” you whisper, the name a fragile ghost on your lips.

He swallows hard, trying to smile through his pain. “I’m here. I’ve got you. I— I should’ve come sooner.” You can feel your heartbeat slowing. His jaw tightens. His fingers dig into your shoulders as if holding you could stop time itself. “You’re not dying on me,” he growls, voice trembling. “You hear me? You’re not leaving me.”

But you already are. His words fade. His warmth slips away. And then nothing.

--

You wake to the scent of pine and earth. The air is fresh, cool against your skin. Your eyes open to find a canopy of leaves above you, sunlight filtering through in soft gold fragments. You sit up too fast, gasping for breath, your hands clutching at your chest.

It’s beating. Your heart. Alive.

You look down. No wound. No blood. No marble floor. Only dirt beneath your palms and a soft breeze tangling in your hair. The reflection in the river nearby steals your breath. Younger. Whole. The faint lines of age and exhaustion gone. The world hasn’t changed, but you have.

You’ve gone back. The realization hits like lightning, this is before the engagement, before the betrayal, before death. Before Juie.

And before Ramy ever found you broken on that palace floor. You press a trembling hand to your chest and whisper to yourself, “Not this time.”

You know what you have to do. You have to find him, he's the only one you can trust.

It takes weeks of travel to reach the borderlands, where the mercenary guild sprawls in the valley like a sleeping beast. The fortress looms ahead, made of black stone and heavy iron gates.

In this life, Ramy doesn’t know you yet... A deep voice cuts through your thoughts.

“You’re in the way.”

You turn sharply. Ramiz Gresan stands behind you, tall and broad-shouldered, a shadow against the afternoon light. His long dark hair is tied back loosely, his tunic half unlaced, his sword slung lazily over his back. His eyes — deep and unreadable.

He raises a brow when you don’t answer. “You lost?”