The Princess Who Died and Woke Up in Another Empire

Year 912

Prince Kaydan stood side by side with the one woman who had never flinched in the face of chaos — the High Priestess of Gardenia.

The two met as usual, cloaked by temple shadows and silence, allies against the same enemy — Kaydan's older brother, Alarik, the mad Emperor who had seized the throne after the peace accord.

Even the treaty, celebrated with golden ink and hollow toasts, hadn't stopped what was coming.

A war loomed — inevitable, bloody, and born of just one man's madness.

It was from fair. But the world has no order.

"What are you planning to do next?" the High Priestess asked, her silver eyes fixed on Kaydan's weary face.

"First, we contact the agents in the southern garrisons. Then the scouts in the border towns. I want reports from every region within the next—"

She lifted a hand, quieting him with a single motion.

"No, Kaydan. I mean… what are you planning to do now?"

He blinked, thrown off by the sudden softness.

"You haven't eaten. You haven't slept. This way, you won't even make it until war begins ."

Her words struck harder than she knew. Or maybe she did know — because Odette always knew more than she let on.

Until war begins.

Those words echoed in Kaydan's mind, bouncing through the cracks in his resolve. She spoke as if it were already fated. As if the wheel had turned and no one could stop it.

Even when her own daughter died, Odette hadn't cried. She hadn't screamed or begged to her goddess. She simply accepted it — as if her grief were just another prophecy, with no need to fret over.

"If you'd told me something about her… if I had known...

"Nothing would've changed," Odette replied calmly, but her voice dropped, heavy with hidden pain. "Brietta was my daughter. Of course I loved her. Do you really think I wanted her to die?"

Kaydan lowered his gaze. Guilt flooded his chest like ice.

"I just keep thinking... maybe if I had—"

She shook her head.

"Even if you had, the path might have shifted… but the ending would've stayed the same. She was already destined for that end."

Destined.

That word tasted bitter in his mouth.

Odette's gift — her curse — was prophecy. Her visions had shaped imperial history, changed alliances, ended bloodlines. But Kaydan had always suspected that it went deeper. She didn't just see the future.

She understood how it worked. How to bend it.

And if even she had surrendered to Brietta's fate, then what chance did he have to change anything?

Still, he was unable to bend down quietly.

If he ever had the chance again — just one more chance — he would never let it happen.

He would never let her die again.

Present Time

"There's something I don't understand," Arabella said suddenly, breaking the silence between them. Her voice was thoughtful, but laced with quiet suspicion.

"What is it, flower?" Ethannael asked, setting his teacup down with a lazy smile.

"The general," she muttered, recalling the earlier conversation. "He clearly threatened me. Like he was holding something over my head. But I don't get it—"

"Over Helena," Ethan corrected with a raised brow.

"Yes, fine. Over Helena," she said, rolling her eyes. "But what could it be? She's just a farm girl. Besides her parents, what does she even have to lose?"

Ethan let out a soft laugh — not mocking, but amused.

"You never cease to amaze me," he said. "So clever about some things… and so blind to others."

Arabella frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Alarik. Third prince. Son of the Empress," he replied casually, as if it were obvious.

"I know who Alarik is," she snapped. "But what does he have to do with—"

She froze. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Ethan smiled, clearly impressed. "There it is."

"Oh gods…" she whispered. "Helena was having an affair with the Empress's son?"

The memory surged through her — distant and fragmented, like a vision that didn't belong to her. A warmth that wasn't hers. A secret kiss. A promise made in whispers.

Helena's gift allowed her to see glimpses of the future. But some visions came without warning. 

Arabella remembered those fragmented information.

When the Emperor died, the High Priestess had reportedly destroyed everything in her grief. That was after their forbidden love story.

"An affair?" Ethan shrugged. "That's one way to put it. What I do know is that Helena adored my brother. She would've died for him."

Arabella shook her head in disbelief. "But how? How did that even start? She wasn't noble, wasn't even—"

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"No," she admitted after a pause. "Not really. Just curiosity."

Then, meeting his eyes, her tone shifted. Steady. Controlled.

"What does matter is our deal."

Ethan tilted his head.

"I help you fake your death in Gardenia," she said firmly. "You help me keep this identity safely."

She didn't say the rest out loud.

Maybe forever.

Ethan didn't answer right away. His smile faded, just slightly, and for a brief second, she wondered what he was thinking. It was clear he had no intention of returning to Solem — or marrying the Gardenian princess he was supposed to.

And Arabella didn't blame him.

Still, something about his silence unsettled her.

"What are you really planning, Ethan?" she asked quietly.

He leaned forward, his eyes dark with something unreadable.

"Let's just say… I'm tired of playing their game."

He rose from the table.

"And I don't plan on losing this time."

Arabella watched him walk toward the window, where the moon cast silver light across his face.

Her thoughts spun like a storm.

Whatever was coming next…

It would shake the foundations of both lands.

And this time, someone else might be thrown from high heights.