The Crimson Forest was dense, the sunlight barely piercing the canopy of blood-red leaves. Justine had ridden deep into the "Forbidden Zone," a place where the royal guards rarely ventured. She needed the silence to think, but the silence was soon broken by the heavy thud of hooves.
She didn't reach for her bow this time; she knew the rhythm of this horse. It was Julian .
"You shouldn't be out here alone, Justine," Julian said, his voice stripped of the mockery he had shown in front of Red.
"The Northern borders are restless, and the 'Ghost of the North' is said to be prowling these woods."
Justine didn't look back. "I’ve survived your betrayal and Red’s lies. I think I can handle a few restless border-men."
"I never betrayed you," Julian snapped, pulling his horse in front of hers, forcing her to stop.
His eyes were desperate.
"I let you go because my father had discovered Red’s family was planning to frame your house for treason. If I had stayed with you, I would have been forced to testify against your father to save my own neck. I married the Duchess to gain the political immunity needed to keep your father out of the executioner’s block."
Justine froze. In her first life, she had died thinking Julian left her for greed. "You... you saved my father?"
"Why do you think your family was only exiled to the countryside instead of being put to the sword?" Julian’s voice softened. "I did it for you, Justine. But Red... he knew. He waited until you were at your weakest, then stepped in to play the 'savior' while he was the very one who helped write the false treason charges. He didn't love you. He wanted to keep you as a trophy of his victory over me."
Justine felt the ground shift beneath her. The "respectful" Red, the man who visited her villa and called her his "peace," was the architect of her family’s ruin.
Before Justine could process Julian’s revelation, a chilling wind swept through the trees. The temperature dropped instantly. From the shadows of the ancient oaks, a figure emerged on a massive, coal-black stallion.
He wore silver-plate armor etched with frost patterns. A heavy fur cloak billowed behind him, and his face was partially hidden by a steel mask.
In her first life, Alaric was the "Enemy of the State." Justine had been taught to hate him. He was the one who had crushed her father’s border troops. She had spent years writing petitions to the Emperor to have Alaric executed for his "cruelty." To her, he was the monster under the bed.
"Lord Julian," Alaric’s voice was like grinding ice. "You are trespassing on land that was ceded to the North this morning."
Julian drew his sword. "The Hunt is still active, Alaric. Lower your guard."
Alaric ignored Julian entirely. His piercing, pale eyes fixed on Justine. He climbed down from his horse, each step heavy and deliberate. He stopped just inches from her mare.
"Lady Justine of House Valerius," Alaric murmured. He reached out, and for a moment, Justine thought he was going to strike her. Instead, he picked a red leaf that had caught in her hair.
"In your first life," Alaric whispered, low enough that only she could hear, "you were the one who sent the assassins to my tent. You were the only enemy I ever truly feared."
Justine’s breath hitched. He remembers? He wasn't just a regressor—he was her enemy who had also come back from the dead.
"And in this life?" Justine whispered back, her hand moving toward her dagger.
Alaric leaned in, his silver mask cold against her cheek. "In this life, I watched you throw a drink in Lord Red’s face at the festival. I decided then that I would rather have you as my Duchess than my assassin."
Julian stepped between them, his blade pointed at Alaric’s throat. "Stay away from her, monster. She has suffered enough from men like you."
Alaric didn't even flinch. He looked at Julian with pure disdain. "You 'saved' her by giving her to a snake like Red. You are a coward who hides in the shadows of the court. I am the one who stood at the border and watched her father's troops fall—not because I hated them, but because I wanted to see if the daughter was as fierce as the legend."
He turned back to Justine, offering a gauntleted hand.
"The snake is coming, Justine. Red is bringing the Imperial Guards to this location to frame Julian for 'kidnapping' you. It's his final play to get you back under his thumb."
Alaric’s eyes glowed with an eerie light.
"Come with me to the North. Help me burn the nest of vipers in the Capital, and I will give you the one thing these men never could."
"And what is that?" Justine asked.
"Truth," Alaric replied. "And a throne built on the bones of those who lied to you."
Justine looked at Julian, the man who loved her from a distance but was too weak to stay. Then she looked at the path where Red was surely approaching with his "respectful" lies. Finally, she looked at Alaric—the monster, her ancient enemy, the only one who seemed to know her soul.
She reached out and took the Duke's cold, silver hand.
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