Chapter 5: The First Memory

The reflection was gone.

Jiwon blinked, but the window only showed rain and lightning now. No figure, no mocking eyes. Just her own pale face staring back.

Her pulse raced, hammering so hard she thought it might break her ribs.

Minjae’s hand was still on her wrist, steady and warm. “We have to leave,” he said again, firmer this time.

But before she could answer, the world tilted.

Her knees buckled. The room dissolved into smoke and shadow. Minjae’s voice called her name—distant, muffled—then vanished entirely.

Darkness swallowed her whole.

---

When Jiwon opened her eyes, the world was wrong.

She lay on stone, cool against her cheek. Lantern light flickered above, casting long shadows on the courtyard. The air smelled of pine and smoke.

Her breath hitched. She was no longer in Seoul.

She sat up slowly. Her clothes were different—layer upon layer of silk in pale lavender, the sleeves heavy and embroidered with delicate cranes. Her hair fell down her back in a braid, tied with a ribbon that wasn’t hers.

“Lady Seoyeon!”

The voice snapped her head around. A young maid hurried toward her, bowing low. “You’ll be late for the procession. His Highness is waiting.”

Seoyeon.

The name echoed in her skull. It wasn’t Jiwon’s name—but it felt like hers.

Jiwon’s lips parted. “What… what year is this?”

The maid blinked at her, confused. “Year? My lady, are you unwell?”

Before Jiwon could press further, the courtyard doors opened.

And there he was.

A young man in black silk robes, his posture straight, his gaze steady. A sword hung at his waist, polished and deadly. His face—

Her breath caught.

Minjae.

Not exactly. His features were sharper, regal, but it was him. Same eyes, same presence. The recognition hit her like a flood, overwhelming and terrifying.

“My lady,” he said, voice deep with warmth only she seemed to hear. “You kept me waiting.”

Her heart stuttered. He reached out, hand open, expectant. Without thinking, she placed her hand in his.

His touch was familiar. As if they had done this a thousand times before.

---

They walked side by side through the lantern-lit garden, attendants trailing behind at a respectful distance. Jiwon—no, Seoyeon—could feel everyone’s eyes on her.

“You seem distant tonight,” he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

Her throat tightened. She wanted to ask a hundred questions, but her tongue was heavy. “It’s nothing,” she whispered instead.

He studied her for a moment, then gave a small smile. “You worry too much. Tonight is ours.”

He led her to the pavilion at the center of the courtyard. Musicians plucked soft notes from zithers, and a table of wine and delicacies awaited. He poured her a cup, watching as she lifted it to her lips with trembling hands.

“You’ve been mine for lifetimes,” he said suddenly. “Even if heaven itself tried to separate us, I would find you again.”

The words made her chest ache. She knew them—knew she had heard them before.

Before she could answer, movement at the edge of the pavilion caught her eye.

A woman stood there, watching.

Tall, elegant, draped in crimson silk. Her smile was serene, but her eyes glittered with something sharp.

Eun Haejin.

Not a reflection. Not a dream. She was there.

Jiwon froze. The cup slipped from her fingers, wine spilling across the wooden table.

The woman’s gaze locked on hers. A whisper slid into Jiwon’s mind like smoke.

He always chooses you. But this time, he won’t.

Jiwon gasped, stumbling back. The world tilted again, the pavilion spinning. Minjae—no, the prince—reached for her.

“Seoyeon!”

But she was already falling.

---

She jolted awake with a scream.

Her apartment ceiling swam into view, the hum of the refrigerator grounding her in reality. She was sprawled on the floor, breath ragged, hair damp with sweat.

Minjae was beside her, gripping her shoulders. “Jiwon! Talk to me!”

Tears blurred her vision. She clutched his sleeve, her voice breaking.

“I saw us,” she whispered. “Hundreds of years ago. You were a prince, and I… I was someone else. Seoyeon.”

His face paled. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head as if he didn’t want to believe it.

“And she was there too,” Jiwon added, her words trembling. “Eun Haejin. She’s followed us for centuries.”

Minjae’s eyes darkened, jaw tightening. His grip on her shoulders steadied, protective.

“Then this isn’t just a dream,” he said grimly. “It’s a curse.”

Lightning flared outside the window, throwing their shadows across the wall.

And for the first time, Jiwon knew—this was only the beginning.

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