Olivia’s eyes flew open, her breath catching sharply in her throat as if she had been drowning and had only just reached the surface.
For a moment, she couldn’t move.
Her body felt stiff, her fingers cold, her heart beating too fast against her ribs.
Her gaze darted around the room, wide and unsteady, taking in every small detail—the soft curtains near the window, the pale morning light across the floor, the familiar furniture she knew too well.
Her room.
Not the cold, silent room from the end of her life.
Not the lonely place filled with regret.
This room.
Her lips parted slightly.
What was that…?
The feeling still clung to her chest.
The fear.
The voice.
The unbearable loneliness.
Too vivid to feel like a simple dream.
A knock suddenly broke the silence.
Olivia flinched slightly before her expression quickly settled again, instinctively forcing calm over the confusion in her eyes.
“Good morning, Grand Duchess.”
Nura.
The moment she heard the voice, something tightened painfully inside Olivia’s chest.
Memories rushed back all at once.
Arguments.
Distance.
Silence.
The news of Nura’s death.
Her fingers curled slightly into the bedsheets before loosening again.
“Come in,” Olivia said quietly.
The door opened.
And there she was.
Alive.
Olivia stared at her for a second too long.
Nura looked exactly the same, and somehow that made it worse.
Olivia suddenly became aware of how fast her own heartbeat was.
Before she could think properly, she stood up and walked toward her quickly.
Too quickly.
“Nura—”
She stopped herself halfway.
Her hands lifted slightly, almost like she wanted to hold her, but paused awkwardly in the air instead.
Olivia had never been good at showing affection openly, even before everything fell apart.
The emotions were there, too heavy sometimes, but expressing them always felt unfamiliar.
In the end, she simply gripped Nura’s shoulders tightly.
“You’re alive,” Olivia said softly.
Her voice was controlled, but not fully steady.
Nura blinked in confusion.
“G-Grand Duchess…?”
Olivia looked away briefly, trying to calm herself.
“…I had a bad dream,” she said after a moment, quieter this time.
It wasn’t a lie.
Nura’s expression softened immediately, though confusion still lingered in her eyes.
Then Olivia noticed it.
The redness around Nura’s eyes.
Like she had been crying for a long time.
Olivia’s brows furrowed immediately.
“What happened?”
Nura froze.
Olivia’s grip on her shoulders loosened slightly, her gaze sharpening.
“Why were you crying?”
For a second, Nura stayed silent.
Then her lips trembled.
“Why did you do that…?” she asked suddenly, her voice breaking.
Olivia went still.
Deep down, she already knew.
“Why did you send the young duke away?” Nura cried.
“He’s only nine… he doesn’t deserve that…!”
The words hit harder than Olivia expected.
Her chest tightened painfully.
Today.
This was the day.
The day she sent Max away.
The day everything truly began falling apart.
For a moment, guilt rose so strongly inside her that it almost dragged her under again.
But Olivia closed her eyes briefly and steadied herself.
No.
Not this time.
When she opened her eyes again, they were calmer.
“You’re right,” she said quietly.
Nura froze in shock.
Olivia rarely admitted fault.
Rarely softened first.
But now, Olivia’s expression only looked tired.
Regretful.
“I was wrong.”
The words felt unfamiliar leaving her mouth.
Still, she continued.
“Bring me paper and a pen,” Olivia said.
“I’ll send a letter to the academy.”
Nura stared at her blankly.
Olivia hesitated briefly before adding, softer this time—
“I’m bringing my son home.”
Silence filled the room.
Nura’s eyes widened slowly.
My son.
Not “the child.”
Not “the heir.”
My son.
Something in Nura’s expression cracked apart, relief and disbelief mixing together.
“Yes… Grand Duchess,” she whispered quickly.
Olivia noticed the tears gathering in her eyes again and sighed quietly.
Awkwardly, she reached out and brushed one tear away with her thumb.
The movement was stiff.
Unpracticed.
But careful.
“Don’t cry so much,” Olivia muttered softly, almost avoiding eye contact afterward.
Nura smiled despite herself.
Then Olivia suddenly spoke again.
“Nura.”
“Yes?”
Olivia looked strangely uncomfortable for the first time.
“When we’re alone…” she said slowly, “…you can call me Olive.”
Nura blinked.
Old memories surfaced immediately.
Two girls laughing together before titles, before marriage, before distance ruined everything.
Before Olivia changed.
A small smile appeared on Nura’s face.
“…Okay, Olive.”
Olivia looked away immediately after hearing it, hiding the slight shift in her expression.
But the tightness in her chest eased just a little.
After Nura left the room, Olivia stood there silently.
The room felt quiet again.
But not empty.
Her gaze drifted toward the window.
Max.
Even if she sent the letter now, it would still take time for him to return.
A week.
Her fingers tightened slightly at her side.
What would he think when he saw her?
Would he look afraid?
Distant?
Careful?
The thought made her chest ache.
Olivia pressed a hand lightly against her forehead and exhaled slowly.
“I’ll fix it,” she whispered quietly.
Not confidently.
Not perfectly.
But sincerely.
Then her thoughts shifted again.
Lucas.
Her expression cooled immediately.
In the past, even thinking about him used to hurt.
Now—
She only felt tired.
He would remain in the capital for years, just like before.
Surprisingly, the realization brought relief instead of pain.
“…Good,” Olivia murmured softly.
This time, there was no desperation in her voice.
No longing.
Only clarity.
“I won’t chase you again.”
The words sounded calm.
Certain.
Not because she no longer understood love—
But because she finally understood what destroying yourself for someone looked like.
And she refused to repeat it