The night I decided to disappear, the city lights were brighter than usual.

As if the world was celebrating something.

Perhaps it was celebrating my absence.

I stood at the edge of the rooftop and realized something strange that I could leave without regret.
There was no one waiting for me.
No one who would notice the silence.

Falling from this height wouldn’t hurt for long.

Tomorrow’s headline would be brief.

“Eighteen-year-old girl found dead after falling from her apartment building. Authorities suspect suicide. No note was left behind.”

And that would be all.

No one would know why.

Except me.

I jumped.

The wind swallowed my scream before it could exist.

For a second — only a second — I thought, So this is the end.

But endings are never that simple.

Instead of pain, there was softness.

Not concrete.
Not darkness.

Something warm. Something gentle.

I wanted to sink into it.

It felt like the first real sleep I had in years — heavy and quiet and merciful.

Maybe this was heaven.

Voices drifted toward me, distant at first. Then closer.

Urgent.

Frightened.

“She’s breathing—”

“Call the physician again!”

“Her pulse is still weak!”

They weren’t talking about me.

They were talking about someone named—

“Lady Seraphina.”

I frowned.

That wasn’t my name.

My eyelids felt too heavy, but I forced them open.

Light flooded my vision.

Gold.
Silk.
Velvet curtains embroidered with silver thread.

A chandelier shimmered above me like captured starlight.

This wasn’t heaven.

It was a room I had never seen before — vast, luxurious, suffocating in its elegance.

And it was full of people.

They were all staring at me.

As if I belonged here.

As if I mattered.

A woman rushed forward before I could think.

She smelled faintly of roses.

Her arms wrapped around me carefully, like I was something fragile.

“My precious daughter,” she sobbed. “You finally opened your eyes… We were so worried about you.”

Daughter.

The word hit harder than the fall ever could.

I was confused.

No — that wasn’t enough.

I felt untethered, like my soul had been placed in the wrong body.

The woman holding me was crying as if I were her entire world.

Her hands trembled against my shoulders.

As if losing me would break her.

Warmth spread through my chest.

It startled me.

I had never felt this before.

Not from my father.
Not from my step mother.
Not from anyone.

Before I could speak, the doors burst open.

Two men entered.

They weren’t crying.

But the air around them felt tight — strained with worry.

The older one moved first.

He looked to be in his mid-forties, dignified even in distress. His hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had rushed here without caring how he appeared.

His eyes softened the moment they met mine.

“Seraphina.”

The name rolled off his tongue with relief.

He stepped forward and embraced me — carefully. Gently. Like I might disappear again.

“You frightened us.”

Father.

That was what he claimed to be.

Behind him stood a younger man.

Tall. Sharp features. Clearly annoyed.

He crossed his arms.

“You should have been more careful,” he said, irritation lacing his voice. “Do you have any idea how worried everyone was?”

His tone was harsh.

But his hands were clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

The older man shot him a warning glance. “That’s enough.”

The woman wiped her tears and smiled weakly. “He was worried about you too. He just—”

“Mother,” the young man cut in quickly.

Too quickly.

That was when I noticed his ears.

Bright red.

Like a tomato.

A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.

The room fell silent.

They stared at me as if I had performed a miracle.

It was the first time I had laughed in years.

Eventually, they left, reluctantly, after instructing me to rest.

Only one girl remained.

She looked around my age.

“My lady,” she said softly, bowing her head. “I am your personal maid.”

I studied her carefully.

If this was a dream, it was incredibly detailed.

“Where am I?” I asked. My voice sounded unfamiliar to my own ears. “Who are you? And… who am I?”

Her face drained of color.

“My lady… you don’t remember?”

I hesitated.

Then I lied.

“No. I don’t remember anything. But please don’t tell my family. Not yet. Can you tell me who I am?”

She swallowed nervously.

“You are the only daughter of Count Ardent. And the future Crown Princess… Lady Seraphina Elowen Ardent.”

The world tilted.

Seraphina.

No.

That wasn’t possible.

A few moments ago, I was Kim Minji.

Now I was—

Seraphina.

Elowen.

Ardent.

From my favorite novel.

Love Between the Investigation.

The story where the main leads solve a series of murders within the royal court.

And Seraphina?

She dies.

After her eighteenth birthday.

“I… how old am I?” I whispered.

“Seventeen, my lady. You turned seventeen last month.”

Seventeen.

Which meant—

One year.

At most.

In August, the Emperor would announce my engagement to the Crown Prince.

The male lead.

The man Seraphina loved with blind devotion.

The man who barely looked at her.

Her life would spiral after that.

Betrayals.
Poison.
Political traps.

And I knew exactly who would betray her.

A knock echoed through the room.

The maid stiffened.

“My lady… His Highness has come to see you.”

My blood ran cold.

His Highness.

The Crown Prince.

The door began to open.

And I realized something horrifying—

He wasn’t supposed to visit today.