Are We Still In love?

Her head was spinning. Cecilia felt her vision blur and gently pressed her eyelids with her fingertips, rubbing them softly. Though she still couldn’t fully believe she had returned to the past, she was certain this was not a dream.

Everything she had experienced remained vividly in her mind. The searing betrayal and sorrow she felt toward Eden for abandoning House Rain were still carved into her bones. The despair in that moment when she threw herself from the tower was just as clear.

“Cecilia?”

But this was no time to dwell on those memories. All eyes were on Eden and Cecilia, the central figures of the wedding banquet.

Eden, with one hand resting lightly behind his waist, extended the other in an invitation to dance. Cecilia took his hand with the natural ease of someone who had simply paused for effect.

“You look beautiful in that dress.”

Eden complimented her banquet gown. Cecilia offered him a quiet smile, and as if taking that as a signal, the conductor lifted his baton with energy, and the music began.

Above them, sunlight poured down in dazzling colors, shattering into prisms. Her silk dress fluttered like a fully-bloomed flower, sweeping the air as she spun.

In her previous life, Eden had once praised her dancing, saying she looked like a butterfly in flight. And such a compliment was hard to interpret as anything but affection.

As the music reached its peak, Cecilia spun lightly in Eden’s grasp. Stepping away across the soft grass, she danced a few paces from him before being pulled back into his arms.

Against her back, she could feel his chest rising and falling steadily. Beneath it, Eden’s heartbeat echoed—soft, persistent, and even.

“……”

Yes, it was a warm and familiar affection one might feel for a companion. But it was not love.

Then—had there ever been a time when your feelings for me were truly love?

She turned again, her graceful steps taking her away from Eden. The only thing connecting them now was their joined hands.

Whereas most wedding banquets ended slightly after midday, the celebration for Eden and Cecilia continued well into the evening. The Emperor had refused to leave early, despite it being the marriage of his second son.

“See to it that our guests are sent off properly.”

“As you command.”

Eden gave the order to the head butler, who responded with a respectful bow. Cecilia silently watched through the tall windows as the guests lined up to depart, their carriages and attendants trailing along in orderly rows.

“Cecilia.”

Her thoughts, drifting far and hazy, snapped back into focus at the sound of Eden’s voice. She turned to look at him.

“Shall we go together?”

It was customary for the hosts, especially the Duke and Duchess of Burnett, to bid farewell to the guests. As Eden’s wife, it was Cecilia’s duty as well.

“No. I’d like to rest.”

But fatigue weighed heavily on her. Facing Eden when her thoughts were still a whirlwind was too much. So, Cecilia declined his offer firmly.

“Then I’ll go alone.”

Perhaps he already suspected she wasn’t feeling well, for Eden said nothing further and simply turned to descend the steps. At that moment, Lady Loren, the head maid who had been waiting to escort Cecilia to her room, stepped forward and offered a deep, respectful bow.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace. You may call me Loren.”

“It’s a pleasure, Loren.”

Recognizing her familiar face, Cecilia greeted her gracefully. Loren had served her diligently during her stay at the townhouse in the capital—but that was all.

“I will escort you to your chambers.”

As Cecilia followed behind her, she absently recalled that there was nothing particularly memorable about Loren. Still, the maid held her posture perfectly upright as they walked.

“These are your chambers, Your Grace.”

The marital bedroom was just as she remembered—arranged to her taste. The room, furnished with natural wood pieces and a vanity, was decorated in a harmonious blend of white and green, exuding a serene, organic atmosphere.

“I will prepare the bathwater while you rest.”

Loren, tactfully excusing herself, left the room. Alone at last, Cecilia ignored her surroundings and sat wearily on the bed bench, allowing herself to finally let the exhaustion show.

“……”

She was alone.

With her eyes half-lidded, Cecilia traced the distant threads of time.

Her engagement to Eden had been arranged when she was just ten years old—too young to understand anything. They had planned to marry as soon as she came of age, but illness had struck Cecilia severely, delaying the wedding. Even when she had seemed close to death, gasping for breath, Eden had not broken off the engagement. And so, at twenty, they had finally married.

That day was today.

“…It was peaceful.”

During her time as Duchess of Burnett, Cecilia had faced no major hardships. Eden had been faithful in their marriage, and life had been calm.

But things began to change with the unexpected death of the crown prince. When Eden was twenty-two, Crown Prince Aster died tragically in war, and with that, their peace shattered.

“The Third Prince is the true heir!”

The crown prince’s position had been so firmly established that no one dared oppose him. So, when he died suddenly, chaos ensued.

“The Second Prince holds the rightful claim to the throne!”

A struggle had erupted over the position of Crown Prince—between the Second Prince, cherished by the Emperor and supported by House Rain, and the Third Prince, the son of the current Empress.

“The bath is ready, Your Grace.”

It was Loren, the head maid, who knocked and spoke from outside the door. Cecilia, unfazed by the sudden interruption, rose and made her way to the bath. As it was her wedding night, everything had been prepared with excessive care.

“Is the water temperature to your liking?”

Seated in a tub filled with rose petals, Cecilia merely nodded in response.

“I wish to be alone. Leave me.”

After the long ceremony and extended banquet, she had neither time nor energy to indulge in a leisurely bath. She hadn’t even had the chance to gather her thoughts.

Loren hesitated, her eyes flicking nervously. She didn’t know whether she should insist on assisting or respect Cecilia’s wish for solitude.

“Please call for me if you need anything.”

But Loren could not object when her mistress had spoken. She rose, dismissed the other maids, and exited the room herself.

Only when the door closed with a soft click did Cecilia rest her head against the edge of the tub. The rippling sound of water echoed faintly around her. With eyes closed, she resumed her thoughts.

“He who refuses to accept the result of the succession and dares to harm the rightful heir shall pay with death.”

During the battle for succession, the Third Prince had tried to assassinate Eden.

“Your Majesty, please… please spare Damon!”

The Emperor, enraged, sentenced Prince Damon to death for the crime of attempted regicide. No amount of weeping or pleading from the Empress could sway him. For the Emperor still loved his former Empress, Janet, and Eden, her only surviving child.

Just as the Emperor had once, with tears in his eyes, sent Eden away for Crown Prince Aster’s sake, now he executed Damon for Eden’s sake, elevating Eden to Crown Prince. After the Emperor’s illness claimed his life, Eden Lobana Burnett ascended the throne.

“Do not grieve, Your Majesty. I am grateful to die for you.”

Untrained to be Crown Prince, Eden was overwhelmed by the role. Above all, losing people he cared for pained him. Those unjustly caught in political strife, losing their lives, weighed on him. He was not born to accept such sacrifices easily.

“I will reveal the disgraceful truth about House Rain.”

But why was it different with her?

At some point, Eden began drawing close to noble houses opposed to House Rain. As he did so, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at Cecilia began to fade.

“The people of Vester, ruled by Duke Rain, are dying.”

Then came a report from the Count of Nova, a vassal house long loyal to House Rain, accusing them of unauthorized taxation and embezzlement, hinting at exploitation.

Without hesitation, Eden summoned Curtis Rain, Cecilia’s father and his father-in-law, to stand trial.

“I swear I am innocent. I did not do this!”

Curtis claimed his innocence. Yet, no one believed him—except Cecilia. Eden confiscated all the money supposedly extorted by Curtis and stripped House Rain of its marquisate. That title was then granted to the Count of Nova, who had risked much to report the alleged crimes.

And from there, misfortune followed misfortune.

News spread that a rich vein of iron ore had been discovered in the abandoned mines of Vester. Soon after, an anonymous tip claimed that the now-disgraced Duke Rain was plotting rebellion.

“Your Majesty, my father would never do such a thing. I am the Empress—why would he betray you?”

“You should leave, Cecilia.”

She tried to clear the misunderstanding. Cecilia wept and clung to Eden, begging him to believe her. She had believed he would. But the result was devastating. House Rain was ruined, Curtis executed, and Cecilia, driven to despair, took her own life before another’s hands could.

In the bath, Cecilia’s body sank beneath the surface. As the despair of the past overwhelmed her, she wished she could drown and disappear, eyes shut, slipping into darkness.

“Why must I die again?”

But suddenly, defiance flared within her. Cecilia’s green eyes snapped open. On the water’s surface, red rose petals trembled like drops of blood.

Even to the very end, she had both resented and loved him. But why had he been so cruel to her—only to her? She wanted to know. If she had done something wrong, perhaps she could understand his choices.

“Why must I be the only one to suffer?”

Yet, even if she understood him, would it change the fact that he abandoned her, that she was pushed to her death?

No.

With a sharp sound, Cecilia’s wet hair broke through the water’s surface. Her damp hand gripped the edge of the tub, steadying her trembling body.

“I want to go back. If I could, I wouldn’t love him again.”

She remembered the wish she had made—desperately—just before dying.

“I could stab a blade into his heart.”

A foolish wish, one she thought could never be granted. But what if it had? If this truly was a second life, a gift…

Cecilia slowly raised her eyelids. Drops of water fell, drip, drip, from her long lashes. Of course, they were not tears.