2. The world she returned to

Lorena’s eyes flew open.

“Gasp, gasp…”

She clutched her chest, her breathing erratic and panicked. Her lungs felt like they were being crushed, the pain excruciating.

‘Breathing?’

Her trembling hands reached for her face. ‘Breathing’ meant she was alive. How could that be?

Tears welled up in her eyes as she scanned her surroundings. The room around her was all too familiar—the very same room she had woken up in for the past seven years.

Her bedroom in the Levantes mansion.

Lorena’s face paled.

‘Could it be?’

Was she not dead?

It didn’t make sense! She had pulled the trigger, pressing the gun against her temple. The sound of the gun firing, the last thing she heard, had marked the end of her life.

‘My brain should have been destroyed. I shot myself to ensure a quick death!’

But now, here she was, alive.

Panting, Lorena stumbled as she tried to get off the bed. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor. The loud noise echoed in the room, and someone immediately knocked on the door.

“Señora, are you all right?!”

It was Hena, one of the maids who had attended to her at the mansion. Hena rushed in and helped Lorena to her feet.

“I…”

Lorena gripped Hena’s sleeve, her hand shaking violently.

“Why am I here?”

“Pardon? What do you mean, señora? Did you have a nightmare?”

A nightmare? Could a nightmare last so long and feel so real? Still dazed, Lorena’s eyes caught sight of something—a letter sitting on the table.

Compelled by an unknown force, she tore open the letter. A single black-and-white photograph fell from it.

In the photo were a man and a woman, their lips just inches apart. The woman, with a sensual figure, was pressing against the man’s body, while the man, although staring indifferently at her, made no attempt to pull away.

The man was impeccably dressed in a tailored shirt and vest, his left hand wrapped around the woman’s neck. On the fourth finger of that hand was a wedding ring.

Lorena froze.

This photograph, dripping with the dangerous tension of an illicit affair, was evidence of her husband’s infidelity.

‘But the day I received this…’

It took her several minutes to find her voice again.

“Hena. What day is it today? The year, month, and day?”

Hena looked confused by the question.

“It’s the first of April, 1002, señora. Why do you ask?”

Lorena had died on the first day of October. Only then did the full weight of what was happening start to settle in.

The Levantes mansion in the capital, the photograph of her husband’s affair, the changed date and season.

‘Could it be…?’

“Before you went to bed, you seemed perfectly fine. Should I call the physician? Or perhaps some herbal tea to help you rest?”

Lorena realized it wasn’t that she had slept for six months. She had returned six months into the past.

‘The first of April…’

Her eyes darted to the wall clock. Five in the morning. Dawn was approaching.

Suddenly, a memory stirred within her.

‘What happened today?’

Her lips parted soundlessly as the realization hit her.

Time passed, and the door to the couple’s bedroom cautiously creaked open.

“Señora, I brought warm chamomile and a washcloth… Wait, what?”

The maid, carrying a large tray with a teapot and cup, looked around in confusion.

The room was completely empty.

* * *

‘Today!’

It was the day she could never forget, not even in her dreams. Today was the day Lorena’s disaster had begun.

Lorena, barely able to breathe, sprinted to the sitting room. She grabbed the telephone and fell to her knees in front of the side table, quickly dialing a familiar number. It was the direct line to the Klein Bank’s branch in Bessen, located in the bustling downtown area.

After fumbling a few times, the call connected.

“Please, please…”

Five rings later, there was a click, followed by a voice she hadn’t heard in so long.

“This is Vicenzo Klein. Who is calling?”

Lorena clamped her hand over her mouth, tears instantly spilling from her eyes.

“Ah, Father…”

“Oh, my princess! What’s the matter? We’ll see each other tomorrow!”

Vicenzo had always called his youngest daughter “princess,” even though she had long been married. He had just arrived in Bessen for the first time in three years and had barely finished unpacking at the Klein family house.

“I was just thinking of calling you at dawn.”

He continued, cheerfully. “I brought so many gifts for you from Ingerd. I might have to send some ahead by cart; there’s too much to fit in the house! Lorena? Are you listening?”

Lorena held the receiver tightly in both hands and began to sob uncontrollably. She heard a clatter on the other end of the line, as though something had fallen. Then Vicenzo’s voice, filled with concern, poured through the receiver.

“Lorena? What’s going on? Are you crying?”

“Hic… Father, I miss you… I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry? What for? Who dared make my daughter cry? Was it your husband? Did you two have a fight?”

Her father was alive. Even if this were a dream, she didn’t care.

“Father, I want to see you… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

“Nonsense! Wait there—I’ll come to the duchy immediately!”

No! Lorena cried out in a panic.

“No, don’t come! Please don’t come!”

She snapped back to her senses. There was no time for her to cling to her father like a child!

If this really was the same day, if she had truly gone back in time… this was her last chance to prevent everything from falling apart.

“There’s nothing wrong. I just had a bad dream, a very, very bad dream. But I’m fine now, Father.”

Lorena wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand.

“Is Alfonso… Is Brother doing well?”

“Alfonso? Oh, yes, he’s still in Ingerd. His duties as Minister keep him quite busy. He sent a letter for you, actually. But are you sure I don’t need to come, princess? You’ve never cried like this before, and it’s troubling for your old man.”

“As long as you and Alfonso are safe, I’ll be fine. Always.”

There was no time to waste. Lorena glanced warily at the door and lowered her voice.

“Listen to me carefully, Father. You need to leave Bessen right away. This very moment. Find a ship leaving at dawn.”

“What? But I have an important dinner tonight with your husband and the investors in Nas…”

“There won’t be a dinner tonight.”

She needed to get her father out of Bessen, as far away as possible, somewhere even Levantes’ bullets couldn’t reach.

Given that the ultimate goal of the Bessen royal family was the Republic of Ingerd, even Ingerd wasn’t truly safe. Lorena’s mind raced, quickly reaching a conclusion.

“Go to the Kingdom of Grant, Father. To where Grandfather is,” Lorena instructed.

Vicenzo Klein was originally from Grant. His great-grandfather, Monteiro Klein, had founded the Klein Bank in the Kingdom of Grant, where its main branch still stood.

“And until I send you a letter, do not come back to Bessen. Halt all dealings with the aristocracy here. And whatever you do, don’t mention Ingerd’s bonds or the railway. The timing isn’t right, Father.”

Vicenzo’s voice, which had been quietly listening, lowered with concern.

“Something is going on, isn’t it, Lorena?”

“Right now…”

Lorena swallowed hard, trying to steady her trembling voice. Slowly, a resolve began to take shape in her tone.

“Right now, don’t ask me anything. Just do as I say. I…”

‘I can’t lose you again.’

The bitter taste of bile rose in her throat.

“I know this dinner tonight with the investors is important. I know how crucial it is to maintain trust with them. You were just about to sign those contracts, and here I am telling you to cancel everything. I know how absurd this sounds, but…”

“I understand.”

Vicenzo’s calm voice interrupted his daughter’s disjointed words.

“If you’re this certain, then there must be a reason. You are, after all, Klein’s daughter.”

‘Klein’s daughter.’

Lorena’s eyes glazed for a moment, the weight of those words settling heavily.

Vicenzo, having made his decision, spoke reassuringly.

“I hope you aren’t in any danger, Lorena. I trust you more than anyone in this world. Even more than Alfonso. You know that, don’t you?”

“…Of course, Father.”

“If anything happens, send me a telegram immediately.”

“I will. Take care of yourself.”

“I love you, my daughter.”

Lorena bit down on her trembling lip, barely managing to whisper, “I love you too, Father,” before gently placing the receiver back on its cradle.

Her heart, which had been pounding violently, slowly began to settle into a steady rhythm.

Her father had always told her that he trusted her, giving her strength as he always did.

In the face of his unshakable trust, she had always lied. *I’m fine,* she had told him.

’I’m living a happy life here in this country of burning sun and passionate reds, married to a kind and perfect husband.’

‘But not anymore.’

This time, she wasn’t going to rely on those pitiful self-delusions. She had to truly become fine—this life wouldn’t end the same as her last.

Lorena returned the phone to its place and stood up.

The events of today weren’t only about Vicenzo Klein’s arrest.

Before Vaye Levantes left the mansion that morning, Lorena had sat face-to-face with him for a conversation.

[You hate me, Lorena. Hate me so fiercely.]

The clock read 7:30 a.m. In just a few hours, she would go to his study and meet him.

The man who had glared at her as though she were a cheap imitation forced upon him. The man who had pretended to show mercy, only to mock and control her. The man who had never once been her husband, though they had lived as husband and wife for seven years.

The beast of a man who had aimed his gun at her family, spouting his final words that still echoed like thunder in her head.

[So you will bear with me, just as I’ve decided to bear with you.]

‘That bastard.’

She could vividly recall the expression on his face at the last moment before her death.

Lorena closed her eyes. She could still see his face, twisted with shock as if he had become a different person the instant she pulled the trigger.

‘Did you feel even the slightest guilt when I died?’

Probably not. Lorena had never meant anything to him.

Whether his wife’s skull was blown open or not, Vaye had likely continued to live just as he always did—lofty and arrogant.

‘But this time, things will be different.’

She heard the faint presence of the servants quietly watching her through the open door. Lorena called out firmly.

“Hena, bring me my shawl.”

“Y-yes, ma’am! Right away!”

Lorena draped the shawl over her shoulders and sat down on the sofa. Her posture was as straight as always, and though her cheeks were still pale, the tear stains had been carefully wiped away, leaving her appearance even more composed than usual.

“And now.”

She said in a firm voice.

“Go to the Duke’s chambers. Tell him to come up here immediately.”