The room went completely silent.
Ophelia stared at Alekxander like her brain had stopped working properly.
Killed.
The word echoed painfully inside her head.
Not poisoned accidentally.
Not “fell ill.”
Not weak.
Killed.
A cold feeling spread through her chest slowly.
“What?”
Her voice came out smaller than expected.
Alekxander didn’t look away this time.
“The original Ophelia tried to leave the Ashbourne estate.”
His voice stayed calm.
Too calm.
“She discovered something connected to her family.”
Ophelia swallowed slowly.
“And they killed her for it?”
A pause.
Then.
“Yes.”
The fireplace crackled softly beside them.
Rain continued outside the windows.
And suddenly Ophelia understood why everyone kept watching her so carefully.
Why the Ashbournes acted nervous.
Why the attackers wanted her dead.
Why Alekxander kept asking what she remembered.
Because technically…
She wasn’t supposed to be alive right now.
Ophelia let out a shaky breath and sat down slowly on the edge of the bed.
“This is insane.”
No one argued.
Because it was.
Alekxander stayed quiet for a moment before speaking again.
“She trusted the wrong people.”
The words felt heavier this time.
Personal.
Ophelia looked up at him.
“You keep talking like you blame yourself.”
His expression tightened slightly.
Another silence.
Then quietly.
“I should’ve gotten her out sooner.”
Oh.
Oh no.
That sounded painful.
Really painful.
Ophelia suddenly remembered the memory she saw earlier.
The original Ophelia crying.
Alekxander promising to protect her.
And now this.
The guilt in his voice felt real.
Too real to fake.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Ophelia asked softly:
“Did you love her?”
The question slipped out before she could stop it.
Immediately, silence filled the room again.
Alekxander looked at her carefully.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Just quiet.
Then finally.
“Yes.”
Simple answer.
But it hit strangely hard.
Ophelia looked away quickly.
Because suddenly her chest felt weird.
And she absolutely refused to unpack whatever emotion that was.
Not today.
Maybe not ever.
She rubbed her forehead tiredly.
“So basically…” she muttered, “I woke up inside a dead noblewoman involved in family secrets and political murder.”
“That’s one way to describe it.”
Ophelia stared at him. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
“You know what? I respect how calm you are because I would’ve been screaming.”
A tiny breath left him.
Almost a laugh.
Almost.
Then suddenly.
Another knock sounded at the door.
Fast.
Urgent.
Alekxander’s expression changed immediately.
“Enter.”
The guard from earlier stepped inside again.
“My lord.”
“What happened?”
“The intruders escaped.”
Of course they did.
Because apparently villains in this world enjoyed dramatic entrances and disappearances.
The guard hesitated before continuing.
“But…”
The room grew tense again.
“They left something behind.”
Alekxander frowned slightly.
“What?”
The guard stepped forward and handed him something wrapped in cloth.
Small.
Silver.
A necklace.
The second Ophelia saw it.
Pain exploded through her head violently.
She gasped sharply.
The whispers screamed louder this time.
“Remember…”
“You saw it…”
“Don’t forget again…”
The room blurred instantly.
Another memory crashed into her.
The original Ophelia running through dark hallways.
Breathing uneven.
Terrified.
The same necklace clutched tightly in her hand.
Then a hidden room.
Books scattered everywhere.
Papers.
Maps.
Symbols drawn across walls.
And written repeatedly across one page:
The dead remember everything.
Ophelia’s breathing quickened.
Then suddenly.
Footsteps.
The original Ophelia turned sharply toward the door.
Fear filled her face instantly.
Someone was coming.
Then a voice.
A man’s voice.
“You should not have looked for the truth.”
The memory shattered violently.
Ophelia nearly fell forward from the force of it.
Alekxander caught her immediately.
“Ophelia.”
Her breathing turned uneven.
The necklace.
That necklace meant something.
Something important.
Alekxander’s hand stayed firm around her arm.
“What did you see?”
Again.
Always that question.
But this time Ophelia noticed something else too.
He sounded worried.
Actually worried.
Ophelia looked at the necklace with wide eyes.
“She found something.”
The room went still.
Alekxander’s gaze sharpened immediately.
“What?”
“A hidden room maybe… papers… symbols…”
The guard beside them looked confused already.
But Alekxander didn’t.
No.
His expression darkened instantly.
Like he recognized exactly what she was talking about.
That scared Ophelia more than the vision itself.
“You know what it is,” she whispered.
Silence.
Then slowly.
“Yes.”
Of course.
Of course he did.
Ophelia laughed nervously.
“You know, one day I’d really appreciate being included in information about my own murder.”
The guard looked horrified.
Alekxander looked tired suddenly.
“Ophelia…”
“No seriously,” she continued.
“Because from where I’m standing, everybody knows everything except me.”
Her frustration finally spilled over.
“I’m tired.”
The words came out shakier this time.
“I’m tired of the visions, the secrets, the attacks…”
Her voice cracked slightly.
“And I’m tired of feeling like I’m walking into a story where everybody already knows the ending except me.”
Silence.
Heavy silence.
Alekxander looked at her for a long moment.
Then quietly told the guard:
“Leave us.”
The guard bowed quickly before exiting the room.
The second the door closed, the atmosphere shifted again.
Softer now.
Quieter.
Alekxander walked toward the fireplace slowly before speaking.
“There’s a reason they’re afraid of your memories returning.”
Ophelia stayed silent.
Listening.
“The Ashbourne family wasn’t working alone.”
Her stomach tightened immediately.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said carefully, “whatever the original Ophelia discovered involved more than just her family.”
The firelight flickered softly across the room.
“She found something connected to several noble houses.”
Ophelia frowned slightly.
“…Including yours?”
A tiny pause.
Then…
“Yes.”
That hurt more than expected.
Ophelia looked down at her hands quietly.
Of course.
Nothing could ever be simple.
Alekxander stepped closer again.
“But I was trying to help her.”
The words came fast this time.
Like he needed her to believe that part.
Ophelia looked up slowly.
“And did she believe you?”
Silence.
Then quietly.
“Not until it was too late.”
Something about the way he said that made Ophelia’s chest ache strangely.
Not romance.
Not yet anyway.
Just… sadness.
Deep sadness.
Because suddenly she realized something important.
Alekxander wasn’t just protecting her because of duty.
Or guilt.
No.
Everytime he looked at her, there was something else there too.
Something dangerous.
Because sometimes.
For just a second.
It almost felt like he was looking at the woman he failed to save.