Chapter 15
Fully dressed, I fumbled along the full-length mirror on the dressing room wall.
If my memory was correct, there was a secret passage here. Most palaces in the imperial complex had such hidden routes. The Emperor’s palace had passages known only to him, shrouded in utmost secrecy, but rumors of others circulated quietly among the court. Some were decoys, spread to protect the real ones, while others were genuine. Over time, many of these passages faded into the shadows of history, their existence forgotten.
The secret passage in my dressing room was one such relic, lost to time—until I discovered it shortly after moving to Lavender Palace.
It wasn’t entirely by chance. When I arrived at Lavender Palace, I’d wondered, *If this palace has long been the implicit residence of crown princes, wouldn’t there be a secret passage for their protection?*
If things went wrong and I faced the same fate as in my past life, I was determined not to die quietly as my uncle wished. The dreams I’d had—showing the horrific fates of those left behind after my despairing death—had steeled my resolve. Even if my future was to become a puppet emperor controlled by nobles, I vowed to survive tenaciously and exact revenge on Empress Kiyen and Volter.
To do that, I needed an escape route for emergencies.
Fortunately, when I moved to Lavender Palace at three, I had time to spare. So, for two years, under the guise of playing hide-and-seek, I scoured every corner of the palace. By five, I’d found this passage.
As an aside, Nanny and the maids still believe hide-and-seek is my favorite game.
Slipping my fingers into the gap beneath the mirror, I felt a click. No sound accompanied it, unlike the sensation.
One of the six mirror panels slid aside about fifty centimeters, revealing a passage just wide enough for a person to slip through.
I quickly stepped inside and slid the mirror back into place.
“Ugh, I thought my heart would stop.”
What if Nanny came to check if I was asleep? What if a maid slipped in, claiming she forgot something?
I knew it was irrational worry, but the mere thought of “what if” made my heart race like mad.
Stroking my pounding chest, I flicked on the magic lamp shaped like a lantern.
*Tick!*
With a soft spark of mana, a blue light flickered to life inside the lamp. I adjusted the mana output to dim it to the glow of a candle.
Shining the light on the floor of the secret passage, I locked the door’s mechanism, finally feeling a sense of relief.
I took cautious steps down the narrow corridor.
Truthfully, I couldn’t be certain this was the right path. I was moving based solely on memories from my dreams.
Yet now, I felt sure. I’d never ventured this deep before, but the labyrinthine path matched my dreams exactly.
It gave me chills. I mean, it was so uncanny that I felt like I was losing my mind over how surreal this was.
“Wow… you’ve finally gone mad, Amelia.”
This path led to the northern forest of the imperial palace, roughly toward the cold palace. After walking for some time, I arrived at an abandoned pavilion.
These secret passages, designed for emergencies, wove through the palace like a spider’s web, a maze known only to the Emperor.
So why had this place appeared in my dreams? I’d never been here before.
Questions begat questions.
But I shook my head, trying to dispel the distractions. No amount of pondering would solve this now.
I just needed to confirm if the dagger from my dreams was in *that place* in the cold palace’s basement. In my past life, its trail ended there.
That dagger appeared in every dream tied to my past and future. Could it be a key to my regression? It had to be. Nothing else could explain this impossible reversal of time.
Wasn’t there some trace of my time being rewound?
Stepping outside the pavilion, I strained to adjust to the darkness. Fearing detection, I turned off the magic lamp and navigated by moonlight.
Fortunately, the deserted pavilion and cold palace were devoid of passersby. Even the palace guards seemed to patrol only designated routes with minimal manpower.
Thanks to that, I slipped into the cold palace’s basement more easily than expected.
Reaching the empty basement, I relit the magic lamp. The dark cellar felt as if something might leap out at any moment. I half-wondered if I was heading to make a deal with a demon.
*Tap, tap.*
My footsteps echoed in the basement. As expected of the cold palace’s poor location, the stone walls were damp with moisture.
Finally, I reached the deep cellar, so far from the entrance it felt worlds away.
The place where Ar had been imprisoned after my death. Where Ar had died.
I grasped the handle of the cellar door.
The sensation of rusted iron seeped into my palm, along with a sour metallic tang. Flakes of rust seemed to cling to my skin.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled.
*Creak—*
The door opened at last.
* * *
A storm swept through the Empress’s palace. Her personal maids began scouring every corner of the residence.
Everyone in the palace held their breath.
The incident at the hunting festival was common knowledge.
After the disastrous event, the Emperor declared a thorough investigation, appointing Marquis Serpis as its leader. Officially, it was to determine if the wyverns had shifted their habitat or wandered by chance, to decide whether to relocate next year’s base camp and strengthen safety measures. But those with sharp instincts knew better.
*The Emperor is out to ruin someone.*
That “someone” was likely among Prince Volter’s faction, the greatest obstacle to Crown Princess Eonel and me, Amelia.
The Emperor was already operating on the assumption that someone deliberately lured the wyverns to the base camp. If proven true, that person’s house would face ruin. If not, a fabricated charge would likely ensure their downfall.
For instance, the commander of the 12th Knight Division, tasked with guarding the base camp—the Empress’s younger brother.
By all accounts, the situation was perilous for the Empress.
So it was no surprise she was in a frenzy, her temper flaring. Her maids, assuming it was just her usual tantrum, kept their heads down and carried on as usual.
But the sharper ones realized something.
*She might pin this on one of us.*
Why else would she rummage through her own palace staff, unconnected to the hunting incident, unless she planned to frame someone?
Whatever pretext she used, the Empress could conjure a charge to suit her will.
A single misstep could mean death. Thus, the Empress’s palace fell as silent as a grave.
Just when it seemed another corner would be scoured to its very dust, the Empress’s maids stormed a room on the second floor’s western wing.
It was the laundry room, where all the palace’s washing was handled, and where the Empress’s personal silks, leathers, and threads were stored.
When the maids burst in, the laundry maids were diligently folding towels and inspecting sun-dried carpets and curtains for stains.
At the sudden intrusion, the maids froze, shrinking back, sensing what was coming. They stopped their work and bowed their heads.
The head maid, her gaze icy, scanned them and spoke in a low, chilling tone.
“Where’s the girl in charge of this place? She’s not in her office.”
She meant Marie, the maid responsible for this room.
The maids exchanged glances, heads lowered.
*I don’t know…*
*Do you?*
*I don’t either. You?*
*How would I know?*
Marie only appeared in her office during payroll, grumbling “What a hassle” while roughly calculating the maids’ wages for approval. Otherwise, she rarely showed her face in the silk storage, embroidery room, or even the busy laundry.
Her father, a low-ranking noble, had sent her to the palace, firmly believing she’d become one of the Empress’s personal maids. But for someone of her standing, even managing this western corner clothing room was a privilege she should have been grateful for.
“Her name’s Marie, isn’t it? Find her and bring her here at once. How dare she leave her post during work hours?”
At the head maid’s cold command, one of her subordinates scurried out.
Meanwhile, the other maids left the laundry room to ransack Marie’s office. They swept ledgers into baskets and moved to the silk and leather storage rooms, pulling out fabrics to check their condition and inventory.
Soon, they returned with several bolts of silk, furs, dyes, and ledgers.
“Five bolts of silk are moth-eaten.”
“The fox and marten furs are damaged.”
“The red dye is moldy.”
“The payroll ledger doesn’t match the maids’ work records.”
The Empress had found her scapegoat.
* * *
In my past life—my future—the cold palace’s basement was colder, darker, and damper than ever.
As the iron door opened, I faced the exact place from my dreams where Ar had died. The scenery was identical, oppressively bleak.
The chill air turned my breath white.
“Haa…”
Goosebumps prickled my arms. And there, I found what I’d sought.
A silver dagger shaped like a dolphin. As my hand neared it, an icy chill enveloped my fingertips.
Its texture was unlike typical metal. It wasn’t just the cold of iron left in a frigid room.
It was as cold as a winter snowflake, yet its surface felt as soft as finely woven fabric. Like silk spun from the hair of a mythical winter goddess.
It felt otherworldly, alien.
But a greater question loomed.
“Why…?”
Admittedly, coming here chasing vague dream memories was absurd enough to leave me speechless… but it was really here? My regression itself was already unbelievable, but this?
For three years, I’d suspected as the dreams persisted, but to think this dagger was actually in the cold palace’s basement, its last known location from my past life!
Logically, in the current timeline, this dagger shouldn’t be here. Its presence in this basement was proof it was unaffected by my regression—perhaps the only thing untouched, though I couldn’t be certain.
“It’s not with Ar…?”
