Finally, Mary completed her tasks on the first floor. As she made her way toward the second-floor corridor, she exuded an air of calm and quiet grace. Six years had passed since she first set foot in this grand mansion.

Lost in her thoughts, Mary suddenly heard a male voice — faint, but distinct. Curiosity piqued, she followed the sound, her steps light and cautious. Then she saw him — a young boy with blonde hair and piercing green eyes.
No servant? she thought.

Though he looked no older than twelve or thirteen, there was an undeniable nobility about him. Mary felt a strange sense of familiarity — a whisper of recognition tugging at her heart.

“Hello, sir. Do you need something?” she asked gently, her voice filled with concern. Her eyes flicked to the emblem on his shoulder.
Ashwater? So the King sent someone from the north... Relief washed over her.

The young boy met her gaze, his eyes sharp and commanding.
“I came to see my fiancée, Lady Daisy,” he replied coolly.

He’s two years younger than her, Mary thought, but he certainly looks older.

“Young Lady Daisy is waiting for you on the first floor, in my master’s office,” Mary said politely.

“I know,” the young lord replied, his tone steady and self-assured. Despite his age, he carried himself like someone twice as old.

“Where are your servants, my lord?” Mary asked.

“I didn’t bring any,” he said curtly.

“May I ask why, my lord?” Mary inquired, surprised.

“I don’t think I owe an answer to a lowly maid,” he replied, his words cutting like ice.

Lowly? What a spoiled brat, Mary thought bitterly.

A silence settled between them. Finally, Mary spoke again, her voice calm. “Do you know the way to my master’s office, sir?”

“Of course I do,” he said proudly.

Mary couldn’t help a small chuckle, quickly stifling it.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked, suspicion in his voice.

Cute… Mary thought, amused.

“I wasn’t, my lord,” she said gently, her tone light with amusement as she returned to her cleaning. She knew he’d get lost — and sure enough, before long, he returned.

“Hey, maid,” he said, puffing up his chest. “I want you to accompany me to the room. It would be impolite to go alone.”

Mary bit back her laughter. “Yes, my lord,” she replied with a smile.

As they walked, she tried to make conversation. “So, my lord, what is your name?”

He scoffed. “Even if you knew, what would you do with it? You may call me ‘Lord’ or ‘Prince.’”

“Of course, my lord… Then may I ask which house you belong to?”

“You talk too much for a maid,” he snapped.

What an annoying child, she thought, keeping her composure. I’m not saying anything this time.

They finally arrived at their destination. Mary knocked gently.

“Mary! You’ve come!” Lady Daisy exclaimed brightly.

Mary curtsied. “My lady, the young lord was lost, so I brought him here,” she said, enjoying the small jab.

“I wasn’t lost!” the boy protested, his cheeks reddening.

Mary merely smiled.

The young lord bowed politely to Lady Daisy and took a seat before her. Mary lingered at the open door, awaiting further instruction.

“Mary, aren’t you coming inside?” Lady Daisy asked.

“My lady, I actually have other tasks to attend to,” Mary said politely.

But her master interjected from across the room. “Mary, prepare the golden guest room. Our guest could arrive any moment.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Mary said quickly, startled. The golden room? That’s only for the royal family… For an Ashwater? Strange.

As she lowered her head in a bow, a sudden chill filled the air. The atmosphere shifted — heavy, cold, almost suffocating. Mary felt it before she saw it: a presence behind her.

Her breath caught. Fear prickled down her spine.

“Your Grace,” her master said, addressing the newcomer.

Mary turned her gaze — and her world stopped.

Those eyes.
Striking blue, familiar, and merciless.

Tears welled in her eyes as a storm of memories crashed over her.

“Father, you’ve come!” the young lord exclaimed.

Mary couldn’t move. Her chest tightened, her pulse roared in her ears. Everyone in the room was watching, but Mary saw only him — the man from her nightmares.

In his eyes, she saw her past — the moment her life had ended once before.

++++++Flash back+++++++
~~~~
"I made a mistake; that's all it was.
~~~
"Amara, will you marry me?
"Yes, I will."
~~~
"Are you sure ? He doesn't love you; he loves me!"
~~~
"Max, please let me go. I don't want to live like this."
~~~
"Mother I did not kill my children! I did not hurt them. Someone tell me they didn't die?!"
--------+++++++++++++

“You… you can’t be here,” Mary whispered. Her voice trembled like brittle glass.

The man stepped closer, his breath cold against her ear.

“Are you sure?” he murmured — the same words he’d once said, now a threat wrapped in familiarity.

Mary’s heart pounded. Panic seized her. She tried to run, but his hand clamped down on her shoulder.

“Not anymore… Amara,” he said softly.

Desperation overtook her. Mary’s hand darted to her side; she pulled out a hidden knife and struck, just enough to break free. She fled down the corridor, her footsteps echoing like screams.

Behind her, his cold voice rang out.
“Capture her.”

“Yes, sir,” came the reply.