Seventeen

While sleeping, Lucien heard a voice.

“Lucien Morningstar.”

His brows moved slightly, and in his sleep, he murmured, “Yes…”

His breathing remained steady, his body relaxed under the effect of the injection.

Then everything changed.

He found himself standing in a dark space.

He was dressed in his old robes, his long hair tied neatly behind him, just like the day he had been crowned King consort.

The darkness around him felt endless.

“Who is there?” he called out. “Where are you? Why did you call me?”

His voice echoed, but there was no response.

Then suddenly, a mirror appeared before him.

A soft white light fell over it.

Lucien stepped closer.

At first, he saw himself.

The crown.

The robes.

The man he used to be.

But in the next moment, the reflection shifted.

The image changed.

A man in a hospital gown appeared in the mirror.

Pale.

Weak.

Familiar.

Lucien’s eyes widened.

Lucien Crossel.

“You…” his voice dropped. “Why did you call me?”

The man in the mirror smiled faintly.

A tired, bitter smile.

“I had no choice,” he said quietly. “I cannot return to my body. But you are in it. So this is the only way I could meet you… one last time.”

Lucien stood still, listening.

“I know you must be confused,” Crossel continued. “But I was just as confused when I realized I could not go back. Maybe this… is the end for me.”

He lowered his gaze for a moment.

“I will not take my body back from you. You can live as Lucien Crossel.”

Lucien’s expression tightened slightly.

“On one condition.”

Lucien spoke without hesitation. “What is it?”

Crossel looked at him again.

“Do not live like me.”

His voice was calm, but heavy.

“I hurt people. Especially Lyra. There was no love between us… but we could have made it work. Instead, I let everything fall apart.”

His jaw tightened slightly.

“I was stubborn. And I let others manipulate me.”

Lucien watched him closely.

“Live properly,” Crossel said. “Live happily.”

There was a pause before he added quietly, “And do not let people walk over you just because you are kind.”

His eyes darkened.

“You already know what that leads to.”

Lucien’s expression softened.

For a moment, he saw beyond the pride.

This man had suffered.

A lot.

“I understand,” Lucien said slowly.

“I never wanted to take anyone’s place. In my past life, I was also… unwanted. Accused of things I never did.”

He let out a quiet breath.

“But I understand what you are saying.”

His gaze became firm.

“I will not live weakly. I will not let anyone trample over me again. I will live this life properly.”

A faint smile appeared on Crossel’s face.

“That is enough.”

He looked relieved.

“I will give you my memories. You will need them.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Do not waste this chance.”

The mirror began to flicker.

“Live well.”

His voice softened.

“Goodbye.”

The image shattered.

Pain exploded in Lucien’s head.

He dropped to his knees, clutching his temples.

Countless images flooded his mind.

Faces.

Voices.

Memories that did not belong to him.

Yet now, they did.

The pain was unbearable.

His body trembled as everything forced its way into him.

He could not breathe.

He could not think.

Only endure.

The world around him blurred and broke apart.

Everything went dark again.

In the room, Lyra slept beside him, her hand loosely wrapped around his arm.

Her breathing was calm.

Peaceful.

But suddenly, his body jerked.

His movements grew restless.

His breathing turned uneven.

Lyra stirred.

Her eyes slowly opened.

For a second, she did not understand what was happening.

Then she saw him.

His face was pale, covered in sweat.

His body was trembling.

“Lucien…”

She sat up immediately, panic flashing across her face.

She held his shoulders, trying to steady him.

“Lucien, wake up.”

He did not respond.

His eyes remained closed, but his expression was filled with pain.

She cupped his face, patting him lightly.

“Lucien.”

Her voice shook.

Inside the darkness, Lucien heard a voice calling him.

Familiar.

Soft.

“Lucien…”

He followed it.

A faint light appeared ahead.

He moved toward it slowly.

Step by step.

As he reached it, everything around him disappeared.

His body went weightless.

Then suddenly, his eyes opened.

He blinked, his vision still blurred.

The first thing he saw was Lyra.

Her face was close.

Her eyes filled with worry.

She was holding him tightly.

He stared at her in a daze.

Without thinking, he lifted his hand and touched her face gently.

“Lyra…” he whispered.