"How long are you going to pretend to be Meredia?"
That one sentence hit so hard my mind forgot how to breathe.
Did he know me? Did he know me me? For how long? Since when?
Every question crashed into me at once, but none of them escaped my lips. Panic never saved anyone.
I forced my lashes down, scanning the corridor instead. Dusty furniture, covered chandeliers, old carved chairs lined against the walls like ghosts waiting for gossip. The quiet kind of place people used for affairs, or secrets they never wanted written down.
"Your Highness," I said, keeping my tone umwavering, "why bring me here? This part of the palace has… a reputation."
I tried for annoyance, but he didn't even flinch. He just stood there, holding me like I weighed nothing, studying my expression like he could pry the truth out with his eyes alone.
"I know you are not Meredia Seraphine Valtoria. The appearance matches, but the soul does not."
My stomach plummeted.
I swallowed and forced out a laugh that scratched my throat. "Your Highness has quite the talent for fanciful tales, it seems."
"It is not a story," he said quietly and tapped my shoulder once with a single finger. It was not not intimate, he was just proving he could reach me whenever he wanted. "I can see you."
His eyes traced my face slowly, as though confirming a sketch he already memorized.
"Hair the colour of moonlit frost, eyes far too bright and clear, like a strange shade of violet trying to look innocent."his eyes moved toy cheeks, " And those tiny marks on your cheeks...like specks of colour the sun brushed onto your skinun left its signature on you."
My breath stuttered.
He wasn't describing Meredia. He was describing me. Sia.
My smile cracked. Whatever mask I had been holding onto slid right off my face. My mind emptied, and his gaze locked me there like a pin to glass.
He must have watched the shift in me, like he had been waiting for that exact moment. "I think you're not going to faint now."
A small curve touched the corner of his mouth as he lowered me to the ground. The warmth of his arms slipped away and all at once my legs felt unreliable. I stepped back just to avoid collapsing.
"Your Highness… I… what are you saying?" My voice shook and I hated it. "That's not my appearance. Are you–are you in love with some imaginary girl?"
His head tilted, a slow, assessing gesture that made heat crawl up my throat. "I do not know who you truly are," he murmured, eyes never blinking, "but you do not need to pretend with me. I do not see Meredia. I see you."
A brittle laugh escaped me. "You are hallucinating, Your Highness. Perhaps rest would serve you well."
I tried to slip past him, but his hand closed lightly around my wrist before I barely moved an inch.
"Let go." My chest tightened. "Your Highness, I don't know what you're talking about."
His grip didn't harden, but it didn't soften either. It simply stayed there, reminding me how little space existed between my truth and his power.
"If you do not wish to be thrown into the temple prison," he said, leaning in just enough that his body made me feel cornered, "stop pretending."
I froze.
"What…?" The word barely made it out.
He straightened only a touch, eyes narrowing like he was reading every flicker of panic in me.
"I could inform the temple and your family right now," he murmured. "They would drag you into the inner cells, look directly into your soul, and peel apart everything that does not belong."
A breath hitched painfully in my throat. Could they actually—?
"And imagine," he stepped closer just enough that the cold wall pressed against my back, "what your family would feel when they discover a stranger has worn their daughter's face."
That hit like a blade sliding straight between my ribs.
I loved them. Even if I wasn't her. Even if I was not pretending like her, they loved me. They trusted me.
My vision blurred. I dropped my gaze, my hair falling forward like a curtain as my throat closed.
A shaky breath clawed its way out of me.
A tear slipped before I could stop it.
My whole act cracked open in one humiliating second. There was no point pretending anymore.
His hand came under my chin, slow enough that I felt the warmth of him before he actually touched me. Two fingers lifted my face.
The tears made everything blur, except his voice.
"My lady. Do not tremble. I am not here to harm you."
A lie like silk.
A man like him didn't reassure people. A man like him ruined them. A man like him killed Meredia. He should kill me too.
His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, collecting the tear before it could fall. "I need your help."
My mind blanked.
Help?
Me?
"What?" My voice cracked like a splinter.
He leaned in, close enough that the warmth of his breath touched my forehead. "I will keep your secret. You have my word. But you must not run from me again."
His tone stayed soft, but there was a darker coil beneath it… a warning buried in velvet. His thumb traced the wet trail on my cheek like he had every right to read my fear with his fingers.
I jerked back, trembling. "No. You want to kill me. You killed Meredia. If you needed her, why do it?"
His expression sharpened at once.
He stepped forward in one clean motion and caught my shoulders. The suddenness sent me back against the wall behind me. His shadow swallowed half the corridor. I had to tilt my head up sharply just to keep his face in sight.
"What are you speaking of?" His brows drew together. "Why would you—?"
His grip tightened, not hurting, but strong enough to make my bones remember that he could destroy me without raising his voice.
"Let me go… please," I whispered. "I cannot help you."
"You can." His voice sank lower, almost brushing against my forehead. "This body answers to you now. Which means you can give me what I need."
He gave my shoulders a single shake. It wasn't rough, but enough to jolt every thought in my head into silence. My breath hitched. The trembling worsened.
That finally made him still.
He inhaled slowly, the rise of his chest brushing close to mine, then stepped back with a restraint that looked like it cost him effort. His hands lowered, though his eyes stayed locked on me.
"Look at me." The tone shifted..he got quieter now but still commanding. "If coercion was my aim, I would not waste time with warnings. You would already be kneeling in the temple's inner hall, answering to the Sanctifer."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
He moved toward me again, but carefully this time. My nose could catch the faint scent of steel, smoke, and something warm clinging to his clothes.
"There is something you do not know about Meredia." His voice softened without losing its weight. "And that truth is the reason only she could help me."
I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking, unable to answer.
"Tell me," he said quietly. "What do you know of her?"
"She… she was the beloved daughter of the Duke and Duchess." My voice barely rose above a whisper. "She was everything to them."
"To the world, yes." His gaze drifted toward the narrow window and the sliver of sky beyond it. "But she was not their blood. Very few know this even now."
The words hit harder than his hands had.
He looked at me again. And this time he stepped in so silently the old wooden floor didn't even creak. His fingers brushed a strand of my hair away from my cheek, almost absentmindedly, but it sent a jolt straight through my spine.
"You are trembling." His voice lowered further, almost intimate. "Breathe."
His fingertip grazed the side of my temple, fixing the fallen hair in place.
"I am not your enemy," he said.
But he wasn't my friend either.
Not when he held my gaze like he could peel the truth out of my soul with a single look.
"What?" My brows pulled tight. "What are you even talking about? Meredia—"
"She was placed into the Duchess' womb through magic." A pause. "After the Nyxarëal clan was massacred."
Nyxarëal. Massacred.
The words didn't fit together. They jammed in my mind like pieces from the wrong puzzle. Transferring a child into a womb? My world has technologies to make people comcieve. But how was that possible here here? Through magic?
"Your Highness…" I exhaled sharply, disbelief scraping my throat. "Is this some story? Some tale you expect me to swallow?"
A quiet breath slipped from him, irritated in the most elegant way. "It is truth. Meredia was the daughter of Elowen's sister and brother."
My hand flew to my mouth before I even registered the movement.
Sister and brother? What war that? Incest? I stared at him hoping he would correct it but he didn't look like he made mistakes in his words. "Incestuous ties were common within the clan. They worshipped purity of blood more than reason."
I shook my head, choking on the thought. "Why would anyone… how could—"
My voice strangled itself. My knees wobbled, and he stepped closer, not touching, just letting his presence roll over me like a wave. The difference in size made my breath catch.
"You are overwhelmed," he murmured, voice low enough to feel rather than hear. "I understand. You will have clarity in time."
He looked too calm… and It made the panic inside me flare brighter.
"But for now," he went on, eyes locked onto mine, "there is one truth you must grasp."
His hand lifted slightly, hovering near my cheek, close enough that the ghost of his warmth brushed my skin. He wasn't touching me… but I felt every inch of that.
"Meredia was the last living pure witch."
His voice dipped, that aristocratic smoothness folding into something almost reverent. "And only she carried the power I require."
My stomach knotted hard.
Pure witch.
Magic.
Massacre.
Incest.
Help.
None of it made sense.
"So," I whispered, "because I'm in her body… you think I can help you too?"
"That," he answered softly, "is precisely why you are still standing."
The implication cracked down my spine.
"So…" My throat tightened. "What do I have to do so you don't kill me?"
His gaze lowered to mine with an intensity that made my breath falter. Like I'd finally asked the one question that mattered.
"You must learn magic. Nyxarëal magic."
He lifted his hand, and a soft blue glow unfurled across his palm, brighter, sharper, impossibly alive. The light reflected in his emerald eyes, turning them almost unnatural.
"The power inside you far exceeds this."
A chill jolted through me. "I've never felt anything like that. Not even once."
"That is because the Duchess suppressed it. Elowen wished to keep Meredia far from danger."
I swallowed hard. "Meredia knew nothing about this?"
He shook his head slowly. "She had no knowledge. Only a few understood what she truly was."
I stared down at my hands.
There was magic inside this bodym real body and it it existed i could use it. I could overpower anyone I could overpower him—
The reckless thought sliced through my mind like lightning. I could kill him.
I crushed it instantly. No. That wasn't who I was. And he had just said he wouldn't kill me. So why would I even—
Why was I thinking like someone cornered by a predator? Why did he make me think like that?
His voice sliced clean through my spiraling thoughts.
"Now," he said, "you will tell me who the imposter inside Meredia's body is."
My head jerked up.
He'd moved back, leaning against the wall with a lazy elegance that made my stomach twist. Arms folded, one ankle crossed over the other, posture completely relaxe like interrogating me for the truth of my existence was a mild distraction before dinner.
The faint rise of his eyebrow felt like a blade at my throat.
"Who were you," he asked, "and from where did you come? You do not speak, think, or breathe like a child of this realm."
My mouth dried instantly.
I couldn't tell him. I wouldn't.
A different world? He'd cage me in a second.
"Your Highness… I remember nothing of who I used to be."
His expression didn't thaw.
"Truly."
"Yes," I forced out. I looked away so he wouldn't see the panic bleeding into my eyes. "When I woke up in this body, the only memories I had were hers."
His stare sharpened . "Yet you recall your appearance."
"I— that—" My fingers scrambled at the top button of my shirt, desperate for something to anchor me. "That was the only memory that stayed. I don't know how. It simply… remained."
His eyes never left my face.
And I knew, with a sick lurch in my stomach, that he didn't believe a single word.
He didn't speak at first, just watched me with no expression on his face. It was hard to read his face.
His arms finally unfolded.
"One memory," he said quietly, "is never 'just one memory'."
He pushed off the wall, the low sound of his boots echoing down the empty corridor. I instinctively stepped away until my spine hit a cabinet. He didn't touch me, yet the space between us felt unbearably tight.
"You remember your face," he continued, "but nothing else? No voice? No name? No emotion tethered to the body you once inhabited?"
My fingers dug into the wall edge. "I told you what I know."
He tilted his head. "You told me what you wished to tell."
I squeezed my eyes shut for a heartbeat, trying to breathe through the fear knotting inside my chest. "What do you expect me to say? Shall I invent some tale simply to satisfy you?"
"No." His voice sank even lower. "But I have no patience for half-truths."
He stepped closer. I forced my chin up, and his emerald eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse trip over itself.
"You awoke in a body not your own," he murmured. "And you adapted far too quickly."
My breath hitched.
"You speak differently, Move differently.Your instincts are not hers." His gaze flicked briefly to my trembling hands. "You do not even fear the same way she feared."
Something in my chest twisted sharply.
Every word struck too accurate.
He must have seen the panic flicker through my expression, because his voice softened into something even more dangerous.
"You are not the first soul to shift bodies in this world," he said. "Do not insult me by pretending you are ignorant of your own nature."
My heart stumbled. Soul shifting? This was normal here? I wasn't the first person to come into this world. This man knew a lot.
"Either someone erased your memories by force…" His gaze narrowed.
A chill slammed down my spine.
"Or," he finished, "…you are lying to me."
I sucked in a sharp breath. "I'm not lying—"
"Then give me a reason to believe you."
I opened my mouth but nothing came, not even a scrap of an explanation. My thoughts fumbled in useless circles. He saw the silence and fear. He read me too easily.
Finally, he breathed out.
"Very well," he murmured. "For now… I will accept your answer."
My knees nearly gave out from the relief.
But when I looked up, his eyes were still fixed on me, and they looked far from satisfied.