For a brief moment, the Tower Master's magic unraveled.
It happened after the funeral had ended, when everyone had left and not a single soul remained in the memorial hall.
Strangely, even Kalion was nowhere to be seen.
Staring down at her own coffin and the sister who stood before her—alive and perfectly well—Milena felt a profound sense of wrongness.
Had the Tower Master made a mistake when creating the illusion of her corpse?
A faint clarity, something that had never been there before, surfaced within her wavering green eyes.
"L-Lariette...? Why...?"
Are you really here?
But you died.
Then why...
Why am I here?
As if answering the countless unspoken questions shaking her mind, Lariette finally spoke.
"Milena, it's not time for you to wake up yet. You won't remember any of this anyway, so I suppose it doesn't matter if I tell you now."
There was no trace of the frail woman standing on death's doorstep.
Lariette looked perfectly healthy.
Radiant.
Untouched by pain.
But because the spell hadn't fully broken, Milena couldn't understand what was happening. She couldn't even follow her sister's words.
"The moment you place the fifth white rose on my coffin, you'll learn the truth. That's the kind of magic this is."
Lariette turned her gaze toward the false corpse created by the Tower Master.
"I'll return. Whether you remember or not."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"Though even if you never learn the truth, your life won't simply stop."
The illusion crafted by a mage celebrated across generations was so flawless it was indistinguishable from reality.
Though fake, it looked real.
Felt real.
Even touch couldn't reveal the difference.
"I'll come back."
Lariette's pink eyes curved.
"So go ahead and covet my man all you want."
Her smile sharpened.
"Without a shred of shame."
"Lariette!"
Milena lunged forward, trying to grab her sister.
It was useless.
The man who had always stood beside Lariette stepped between them.
"Move!"
Milena screamed.
"Move! I need to talk to her—!"
The man standing before her lowered his voice.
Like a curse.
Like a command.
"When your memories return... break the coffin with the Grand Duke family's heirloom."
It was an unfamiliar voice.
Yet somehow, the words didn't enter through her ears.
They echoed directly inside her head.
When she regained her senses, the man was already gone from in front of her.
He had returned to Lariette's side.
And both of them were slowly becoming transparent.
"Wait!"
Milena shouted desperately.
"At least take your child with you! Lariette!"
"You raise him."
Lariette's answer came without hesitation.
"He's my son."
Her expression hardened.
"Never let him out of your sight. This is a warning."
A terrifying chill hid beneath her beautiful smile.
"If you neglect Ashdel..."
Her figure faded further.
"...I won't forgive you when I return."
And then—
Lariette disappeared alongside the Tower Master.
The moment they vanished, Milena's memories vanished with them.
For the next five years, she lived in the Grand Duke's castle.
In a world without her sister.
The cruelty never changed.
She obsessed over a man she could never have.
She resented her dead sister.
Jealousy consumed her until she became ugly with rage.
Just as Lariette had predicted, Milena's life slowly crumbled beneath the influence of an incomprehensible force.
—
So what now?
Do you really think remembering everything will set you free?
As the shattered fragments of memory fitted back together, Lariette's voice seemed to echo through the emptiness.
Just like that day long ago.
The day she had been bullied and trapped inside a narrow wooden box.
Once again, Milena found herself imprisoned in darkness.
And she screamed.
"Unnie!"
"Get me out of here!"
"Lariette!"
How could you do this to me?!
How could you ruin my life like this?!
The woman who had lain limp as a corpse suddenly trembled.
Her eyelids fluttered.
Like a doll receiving life.
Her empty green eyes slowly opened.
Blood pooled within her vacant irises before spilling down her cheeks like crimson tears.
The red streaks running across her pale skin looked tragic.
Yet strangely beautiful.
Like a masterpiece crafted by a master artisan.
"Ha..."
A familiar voice let out a long breath.
"Finally awake."
Milena realized she was suspended in midair, entangled in thorn-covered vines.
She couldn't fully comprehend the situation.
"I was starting to think I'd have to wake you with a kiss like some fairy tale princess."
Lexion burned away the thorny vines binding her.
Violent flames devoured the unmoving thorns.
Freed from their grip, her body plummeted.
But before she could hit the ground—
He caught her.
Or rather...
The moment he caught her, both of them collapsed onto the floor together.
"My lady..."
His breathing was rough.
"Are you alright?"
His entire body was covered in wounds.
Fatigue was etched across his face.
Yet his sharp features remained strikingly handsome.
His slightly unfocused crimson eyes gave him an almost decadent beauty.
"Lexion...?"
"Haah..."
He laughed weakly.
"Do you have any idea how much pain I'm in right now?"
His grin turned crooked.
"And whose fault that is?"
The way he spoke was completely different from when he pretended to be a knight.
Lighter.
Almost playful.
But Milena was in too much pain to react properly.
The sensation of the magic unraveling was horrifying.
The malice poisoning her heart was washed away.
The spell binding her disappeared.
For the first time in years, she felt like herself again.
She didn't even have the strength to be angry at her sister.
Or furious over the truth she'd been deceived about.
An overwhelming exhaustion crushed her.
"My lady..."
Lexion looked at her quietly.
"Do you even know what state you're in?"
His voice softened.
"Just who hated you enough to do this?"
Was that why people had called her a villainess?
The thought drifted through her mind.
She didn't even have the energy to answer.
Instead, she stared blankly at Lexion as he supported her.
Then finally spoke.
"You..."
Her voice was hoarse.
The thorns had nearly strangled her.
The man before her...
Looked far too similar to someone in her memories.
Silver hair.
Red eyes.
A face so handsome it felt unreal.
Could two people really resemble each other this much?
And he could use magic.
She had to ask.
"You..."
Her lips trembled.
"Are you the Tower Master?"
The man immediately denied it.
Without even blinking.
A scoff escaped him.
"Hah."
"If I were the Tower Master, do you think I'd be suffering this much?"
"Then..."
She hesitated.
"A mage?"
"Hm."
He shrugged.
"Something like that."
Something like that?
Just what was this man?
He was nothing like an ordinary spy who had infiltrated the Grand Duke's household.
As Milena sank into thought, the raging flames surrounding them gradually subsided.
Even while talking casually, Lexion was fighting against his own magic.
The veins protruding from his temples revealed how close he was to his limits.
I've used too much mana.
His condition was worsening by the second.
His bloodshot eyes looked ready to burst.
And yet—
He endured.
For one reason alone.
Her.
The moment the spell binding Milena broke, mana began overflowing from within her.
Pure white light.
A power as radiant as divine energy itself.
To Lexion—
It was irresistible.
Like a starving predator discovering prey.
His gaze instinctively dropped to her lips.
"Lexion...?"
He lowered his head until their foreheads touched.
A strained voice escaped through clenched teeth.
"May I ask a favor?"
Time seemed to slow.
Milena blinked in confusion.
His throat was dry.
His lips felt burned raw.
"What is it?"
She frowned.
"You..."
"Your condition..."
Her words never finished.
"May I kiss you?"
Those crimson eyes were filled with desperation.
A desperation so raw it stole her breath.
"Now?"
"Now."
His voice was low.
Rough.
Almost a growl.
It sent a shiver down her spine.
Before she could answer—
The white mana escaping between her parted lips tempted him further.
"...Sorry."
His eyes darkened.
It was useless.
That intoxicating power woven into her breath shattered the last remnants of his restraint.
"Then I'll be the villain."
And with that—
He devoured everything she had.