Shades of garnet, orange and yellow blended well as the sun kissed the horizon. The grass in the lawn was awfully comfortable for walking. The faint salty smell of the sea was blown away by the gentle whispers of the wind breeze. Noise could barely be heard as the place was not yet famous.

    An old lady in black, with her back slightly bent, was heading towards the bench in front of the sea, facing the beauty of the sunset. She knew the moment wouldn't last long. But, she was already old and could only walk slow with the assistance of a young staff and her walking-length frilled black parasol.

    As the young staff brought her to the oak bench, she suddenly stopped. The boy's steps were halted; he glanced at the lady beside him. No matter how much wrinkles had appeared on her face, her captivating and timeless beauty of the decades didn't fade. But her eyes were filled with solemnity as she focused looking at the bench.

    The young boy couldn't help but ask, "Madam, is there something wrong?"

    The old lady shook her head and curved her lips for a faint smile. "No. It's just that..." she paused as her gaze swept from the oak wood to the sunset, "It was my dream."

    "Oh." The boy didn't speak more, afraid that he would be seen as a nosy staff and get fired from his work.

    She gave him another smile and tilted her head. The staff was a bit hesitating but soon left as she ordered.

    She bent slowly to sit down and leaned her parasol on her side. Her eyes looked up at the sunset and watched it calmly as she would ever be. Tears wanted to escape from her but they couldn't. The tears were already spent for the past decades and there was nothing left. But she knew her feelings remained as she finally got this far and lived her dream.

    When she was young, she had a lot of dreams—petty or not. She dreamt of being a beautiful maiden that would make the men bend their knees; to be married and loved thoroughly, truthfully, and wholeheartedly; to have children and grandchildren and guide them until she turns grey; to leave her family's house and name for her to be free; and die at the age of ninety, at the bench on the shore with the sunset as her last memory.

    The latter was the only one filled with uncertainty—unreachable and almost impossible. But—funny yet sad as it was—that was her only dream that came true.

    She lived her life mourning. Mourning for her family, for herself, for the decisions she made, and for the love she didn't fight for.

    And she was sitting there alone. No lover, no children—she didn't have anyone to keep living.  She had enough. She finally reached her last dream.

    It was enough.

    Pity, she couldn't anymore enjoy the scenery before her. It didn't last long.

    "Do you believe in second chances?"

    "I don't."

    She opened her eyes after realizing her fast response. It didn't take her long to notice a man standing beside her—wearing all black. He seemed to be at his early twenties but she could not see his face clearly. It must be her eyesight.

    She tried to sit up straight like what she was taught before; the gaps between generation was forgotten for a moment as no girl would do that at this time.

    "I don't believe in chances. Much more in second chances."

    I believe everything was put in order and absolute. What you have done is done by your own choice and not by chances. And clearly, you cannot repair a broken mirror so second chances didn't exist for me.

    "For you to say that, you must've suffered grievances in your life."

    She nodded without hesitation. "I did."

    The lady didn't know this man but she felt strangely comfortable voicing out little things. After all, she just had her last moment earlier—

    Wait...

    How can this man see me? And talk to me?

    That comfort she felt earlier vanished as fast as light as it dawned her. Her eyes squinted, full of doubts and uneasiness. "Who are you?"

    "This man is only a humble collector."

    "What do you collect?"

    She felt the man smiled between the pause.

    "A tax."

    She sighed, confused if she would accept his words. "Mister, where will you bring this old lady to?"

    "You don't need to be impatient. And to what I see, you're not an old lady. You have this beauty that this man have never seen before."

    "Your such a honey-talker."

    "Then why do you not believe in second chances? The Sky is merciful. If you are good, second chances will be granted."

    He did not drift away. The lady didn't answer him so he proceeded.

    "Have you not experienced grievance before? In one glance, this man can already tell. For sure you have something you want to repair and redo in your life. So why won't you, for once, believe in chances?"

    He was persuasive. So much that it made the lady lost in her thoughts. No one would not understand the fact that she lived her life mourning.  She was a simple person. She had made wrong decisions before but did not regret everything. She didn't believe in chances and could only mourn.

    But then if she changed her perspective just this time,  would the past not happen?

    The man offered his hands happily. She didn't know what it meant but she accepted it.

Everything was warm. She couldn't see anything but the heat was familiar and made her comfortable. It stayed like that for a while until she heard faint voices. She didn't understand it and all happened too fast. After the complete darkness, she was greeted by a blinding light. As soon as she saw it, a loud cry of a baby echoed.

Prama felt dizzy as if she took many sudden turns. It was cold before a blanket covered her. Then she was moved side by side slowly. The cry stopped. She guessed the baby was finally coaxed. The dizziness earlier vanished, pushing her to sleep.

It wasn't long when deafening clamor brought her back to consciousness. It irritated her and soon, a baby cried. She was again moved as laughter filled her ears. When the baby was finally silent, she felt someone held her. So many hands. She seemed to be a ball that was passed from a person to another. Not only that, her cheeks was wet. Prama was disgusted.

The dizziness came back. She couldn't handle it anymore and fell, but she didn't feel any pain. Instead, her feet touched something steady—it was the floor. Prama wanted to walk but she couldn't take control of her own body. In the end, she was all fours and could only crawl.

When she thought she would be crawling for so long, someone lifted her up. Again, her cheeks was wet. She smelled something tasty. The smell came closer and instinctively, she opened her mouth. The soft and watery food entered her body and gave her warmth. Prama smiled.

"No!"

Someone shouted. It was a little girl. Prama's jaw fell when she noticed the girl's face. It was her! Her younger self!

"Your father will be mad if you don't listen, Miss Leig."

"No! I want to play!"

Evelyn, the poor maid, sighed helplessly. She then took the hand of the little Prama and brought her to the garden where the swing was. The joyful laugh of the little girl rang around the field when she saw the swing. But her happiness was cut off short when her older sister, Lawrin, sat on the swing and took over the place the little girl wanted.

"Big sis, can I sit there?"

The seven year old girl arched her brows.

"No."

"Please?"

"I said no."

The little Prama persuaded her older sister more but when she heard the finality in her sister's voice, she cried. She thought when she cried, their parents would hear her and tell Lawrin to give her the swing. Indeed, their parents heard of this but the little Prama was the one scolded for her lack of manners.

From that day on, she didn't dare to try her older sister.

"MISS PRAMA, wake up!"

The Leig mansion was in uproar. Dukeson Schuwiff visit would be today. Winston Leig strictly ordered that the two Young Miss Leig must be presentable. Lawrin Leig—the eldest of the two daughters was already neatly dressed. But the younger one was still in deep sleep.

"Miss, Sir Schuwiff's visit is today. You have to wake up! It's already late in the morning!"

Prama Leig wasn't used to this noise. After a little while she reluctantly went out of bed only to be greeted by familiar faces she thought she would never see again.

"Is this also a part of memory recalling?"

She lingered her gaze around. Everything was too familiar. From the peach colored room, sky blue blanket, newly polished acacia table and her large closet filled with pastel\-colored dresses.

"Oh yes, I died. It must be it."

"Miss, what are you whispering to yourself? Get up, hurry!"

There were so much people in the room. They were all maids.

"Eve... lyn..." She focused on the maid's face wo was busy hurrying up. She memorized her face again and again and then nodded. Yes, it was Evelyn—her personal maid before.

Prama didn't move an inch, thinking that this was a memory recalling after death and she could only watched it. She watched the Evelyn pleading to her and the other maids who were busy with her clothes, accessories, bath, and everything she needed.

She acted as if she couldn't hear anything and didn't speak. Nothing entered her mind despite the noise. But when her gaze fell down...

Her hands. It was too small. She examined it carefully, as if she didn't see a hand in her entire lifetime. She quickly took off the blanket and stared down at the body.

She was in her young body.

So the books about after death were bluffing! How stupid of her to believe those! But then, she was in her own body. Was it okay to move around?

And then realization hit her. She took off the blanket.

Yes, she took off her blanket.

She pinched herself secretly. It hurts! Then... Then what was happening? Why was she back?

"Evelyn, what's the date today?"

"5th of July, Miss. 1153rd year of Zirigone..."

As if her strength was being sucked up, she leaned on the headboard. She was ten years\-old then. So... What just had happened?

She sighed heavily and composed herself. "It's nothing."

Instead of relief, Evelyn showed more worry. Prama Leig was usually cheeeful and lively. She was the one that kept the mansion alive. But seeing her this acting very... mature. She also gave off this intimidating aura without her noticing. The change was so drastic and even the other maids started to worry for her health.

She was no smiles. Everyone thought.

"What's with the hurry, Evelyn?"

For the maids to be busy like this, someone important must be coming. And there was a particular person who visited the Leig mansion when she was ten years old.

Prama stood from her bed and the maids immediately put her shoes. She was so shocked with the sudden treatment and took few steps away. The maids also has the same reaction.

She quickly calmed herself and used her usual voice. It was not hers—the voice she was used to. Too soft and girly; it made her cringe. "No need. I can do this myself."

But... The girls were hesitant. "It's our duty, Miss."

"Leave."

They were confused but then, their master said so. Even with their concern at the cold treatment, they had no choice.

This surely wasn't a memory recalling. When she died, she had a short conversation with a man. He talked about second chances.

"The skies are merciful, he said. But why it has to be me?" she whispered to herself.

"WHERE'S PRAMA?" Ivina Leig, the matriarch asked Evelyn who was caught rushing outside Prama's room.

"She just woke up, Madam." The maid didn't bother to look up.

"What?" Ivina exclaimed. Sir Schuwiff would be there soon and her daughter was still taking her time to dress up? My goodness!

"Mother, what's wrong?"

Lawrin walked towards her mother who was panicking. Her steps were graceful and calm, her voice was soothing but it didn't help Ivina's worry.

When Ivina's gaze fell on her first daughter, she remembered that bright and childish dresses of her other daughter unlike the plain navy blue dress of Lawrin.

"Go to your sister and ask her to hurry up. Also, never let her wear any of her dresses. If anything, you must be the one to pick and give her a presentable one."

Lawrin nodded and never said anything. Her flat shoes never made a single sound when she climbed the grand staircase. Evelyn accompanied her to Prama's room, but she only treated the maid as if it was air.

As soon as they reached the room, Evelyn opened the door and revealed the young girl with a towel wrapped over her chest. Her eyes noticed the two and then focused on drying her hair. The girl didn't said anything and continued her business.

Lawrin hadn't recovered from the sight first. Her little sister would always greet her when they meet but she was only given a cold shoulder. Her brows twitched seeing her little sister's action; she found it rude and improper.

"Sister, have you found a suitable dress for today?"

Prama turned her back and answered, "I haven't." She bended to look for a wedged shoe but there were only flat shoes and boots on the rack. Not only that, they were all bright\-colored!

She pursed her lips when she realized wedged shoes were still not released.

"Would you mind me picking one for you then?"

"No," Prama paused when she thought of something, "but I don't know if there is a decent dress in my closet. May I borrow one from you, big sister?"

She tilted her head and glanced at Lawrin. Shock was evident on her sister's face. Caught off\-guard, huh? Prama knew that Lawrin didn't like to share her belongings, even to her. Dress, shoes, accessories, and... a man of course.

But Prama had witnessed her sister's submission to their parents. She guessed her mother told Lawrin to come here and help her pick a dress so she would do so. Lawrin never liked her dresses, and now Prama didn't like her past taste too. If Lawrin wouldn't give her a dress, then the Leig would be put to shame.

She remembered her boastful father. No. With money or not, reputation and dignity was the most important to Winston Leig.

There were times when her father would use them for praises. It made her doubt whether Winston really loved his children. Whatever the reason was, Prama had remained filial.

"It's fine. Do you have specific preference?"

Prama smiled. "Black will do, sister. I'm sorry for the bother."

"No worries. Just... hurry up. The guest will arrive soon." Lawrin turned her back to hide her frown from their sight.

"Thank you."

Evelyn closed the door after Lawrin walked out.

Ah. They hadn't known this but Dukeson Schuwiff was not alone when he came here in the past. Prama tiredly sat on the bed, her thoughts meandered.

In her past life, Dukeson Schuwiff's visit made the Leig mansion to prepare for it. Prama, together with her family waited in the hall for his arrival, but what surprised them was he had someone with him—his second cousin, Princip Eigen Griste.

Winston Leig readied the things Dukeson would use for comfort as he stayed in the Leig for three days. Everyone presumed he was alone so they had nothing to prepare for the Griste.

The latter never seemed to mind and told them that he wanted to help Dukeson. For what kind of help it was, Prama didn't know. In the end, the family paid attention more to Dukeson, and detest the rudeness of the unwanted visitor.

They should have guarded themselves up from that man Dukeson brought.

"Miss Prama, the dress is here." Evelyn opened the door after the silence.

It didn't take too long. Prama accepted the dress and ordered that no one would enter her room for the meantime. Her eyes lingered to check the it. Lawrin really have nice dresses, she thought. It was a black as what she requested with black gore skirt that reached just below her knee and Florence sleeves. And the white puritan collar didn't make her look like attending a funeral, at least. All in all, it was really simple and suited her current taste.

Fortunately, she has black boots at the very end of the rack. It was kinda dusty but a wipe would be fine. For her hair, she would just do it a low ponytail. She picked up a white ribbon on the dressing table and tied her hair the way she wanted to. She only had limited time.

"Are you done, Miss Prama? The guests have already arrived. They're only waiting for you downstairs." Evelyn called her outside.

There was only silence before the door opened.

By ten, the guests would arrive. Now, it was passed ten by a few minutes. She was late and aware of it.

The house design was simple. It wasn't difficult to understand the pattern and ways. The only problem though, there were unnecessary rooms. Nevertheless, the house remained its extravagance with its simplicity.

Prama and Evelyn, walked through a pathway that leads towards the main hall. When they reached the split staircase, Prama's steps were halted. She stood there and looked down. Indeed, they have arrived.

A maid below announced their occurrence. The heads in the lounge was turned to her direction as they rose from their seats. Prama climbed down the stairs with Evelyn assisting her if ever accident occurred. She appreciated it despite the fact that she had stepped on those treads a hundred times.

"I'm sorry for being late everyone." Prama carried a gentle smile as her eyes swept from her family to the gentlemen.

Lawrin was standing beside their mother with cheeks painted with faint pink. Her straight black hair was down and a blue barrette held the hair near the face. Ivina seemed to be shocked as well as Winston seeing Prama but didn't last long when delight in their eyes surfaced.

For a moment, memory of the past flooded Prama's mind. Ivina was bathing her own blood in her room. Winston's eyes were dead after seeing his wife. The next day, it was a bright morning but what greeted Prama was her father hanging in the ceiling—with the same dead eyes open.

Cold sweat dripped down her temple as her smile stiffened. Unknowingly, her gaze fell upon the man next to Dukeson and her overt detestation couldn't be repressed.

Princip Eigen Griste—the one who had started it but unfortunately, he had also escaped.

It seemed that the man felt her glares and locked his eyes with her. Noticed, Prama blinked her thoughts and brought back her smile. She walked closer towards the gentlemen while not taking her eyes off with that Griste.

"I'm Prama Leig," she introduced, now looking up at Eigen.

Black eyes were like a never\-ending abyss and his long eyelashes softened it—a sweet treachery. His tall nose was perfect and full thin lips were like cherries and enticingly wet. His sharp jaw was more defined by his black hair that fell naturally on the forehead and below the ear.

This Griste has a remarkable face, she couldn't deny that.

It seemed that she was talking to him, but she extended her hand to Dukeson—who was beside Eigen—for a handshake.

Prama tightened her jaw to hid her laugh when the atmosphere became awkward for a brief time. Dukeson accepted while catching glimpses to his cousin whose face was dark.

"I'm Dukeson Schuwiff."

"I've heard about you." Her gaze softened. He was her lover. She was his. But it would all remain as 'before'. Prama wanted to hold his hand longer but he quickly pulled it away after the short contact.

"Really?" Dukeson chuckled but lost it when he turned to the person at his side. "Aren't you gonna..."

"Princip Eigen Griste."

The loathing in her eyes came back as soon as she heard his voice. Her lips parted to let out a silent sigh. Prama needed to calm herself down. For sure he hadn't done anything yet at this time—but that didn't mean that she would let her guard down.

She accepted the handshake but when she already wanted to break free, his hold tightened. Her brows furrowed and she looked up, only to find that he was watching her. It was the same for her. She would be vigilant of him.

The awkwardness perished when Winston laughed and invited them all for lunch.

\-

In the long dining table, Winston Leig as the patriarch sat at the end with Ivina on his right. Lawrin was sitting between her mother and her sister. Dukeson was in front of Lawrin with Eigen beside him.

Prama's lips were in a grim line. One upward move of the head, she would face Eigen. Since the arrangement was fixed, she could only imagine that the steak she was cutting was the man across her.

"My father told me you're socially active despite the fact that you decided to live here, Sir. I heard you were once a professor at a famous university in Marci?"

Marci is the capital of the Zirigone state. It's a completely developed urban city unlike the other cities and provinces in the state. However, some people say that the life there is miserable for migrants.

It was a daydream before trying and a nightmare after experiencing.

"You're right! Unfortunately, I left and decided to stay in this small town of Luilia. It's quite refreshing here, isn't it?"

Prama focused on cutting the steak whole. The others were already eating while she was still cutting her food. Then, a low gasp was heard at her on her right. She threw a glance on her sister and found that Lawrin was staring at Dukeson. Her cheeks was flushed and when she noticed Prama's gaze, she looked down to her plate.

Prama's eyes went to Dukeson who was talking with Winston. She bit her lips, and pondered in her past.

When Lawrin saw Dukeson in their mansion, she had the same reaction. Prama watched her sister adoring the man, and she was curious how her sister did like him. To find the answer, she chased the man but ended up falling to him. She had thought it was wrong so she stopped. But Dukeson chased her. Then, Winston offered an engagement between him and Lawrin. He didn't want it. Prama loved him in secret—they were a secret. When she heard of the engagement, she told Dukeson to agree—the same when she wanted their relationship to be a secret between them. And he compromised.

Dukeson kneeled and hugged Prama's waist as he buried his face on her tummy. She could feel his resistance to hug her tight—afraid that he would hurt her.

"Why do you always push me away? Am I not that important to you? How could you give me to another woman?"

Prama tried to shake him but he didn't budge. In the end, she brushed her hand on his damp black hair.

"But she's a family, Dukeson. My sister loves you. Maybe... Maybe you will learn to love her. I want her to be happy."

It was frustrating. He didn't accept all her reasons. Prama wanted to end this as soon as possible because she knew if they stayed like this, her reasons would vanish and she would trap him with her forever.

She groaned when he shook his head stubbornly.

"It's unfair," he murmured, "It's you. It will always be you. So please, just this time... choose me."

It was painful to see him like this. In the eyes of others, he has no weakness. He was calm all the time so to see him begging like this was just too much. It was also hard for Prama because she wanted to stay with him.

He was the one who fought, compromised, and suffered the most. But in the end, Prama let him go.