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"Stop, don\'t take him away from me," she murmured, her eyes closed and her face damp with cold sweat.

Relief washed over him first, but it was quickly replaced with concern. He crouched beside her bed, his expression softing.

"Nightmares again, huh?" he whispered, taking in her distressed face.

"Unlike me, you won\'t be able to go back to sleep if your nightmare wakes you up," he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

Placing a gtle hand on her forehead, he added with a hint of bitter sarcasm, "I can\'t fix my own mess, but I can try to fix yours." He cast a deep sleeping spell on her.

Soon, the crease betwe her brows eased and her breathing became more relaxed. She was now in a slumber so deep that ev if the manor caught on fire, she wouldn\'t know.

He looked up at the ceiling, pondering, this isn\'t anything major that can change the prest… Right…?

Suddly, he worried about that. He hoped she had no plans until morning.

Gosh, I always d up being so stupid wh it comes to her, he thought, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips.

After giving himself a well-deserved mtal slap, Vyan decided to abandon his worries and head back.

Unlike his journey to the past, he returned to the prest without a hitch.

He reappeared, staring at the translated scroll with a mix of irritation and disbelief. "What the hell? I recited the spell perfectly," he muttered, eyebrows knitting together.

"Maybe I said the date wrong? Ugh, who knows? Maybe the universe just hates me."

Undeterred by his initial failure, Vyan decided to give it another go. This time, he succeeded, landing himself t days in the past.

He stealthily observed his surings and finally discovered the culprit behind his missing chocolate cake.

Bedict. Bedict, of all people, had thrown it away.

Vyan rolled his eyes. "Great, I have be mtally cursing Clyde for nothing."

Returning to the prest, Vyan\'s vision blacked momtarily, and he felt a peculiar ssation, as if his body was trying to detach itself from his soul.

"Note to self: Don\'t overdo this spell," he murmured, placing a hand on his chest to steady himself. "Alright, one more time. Let\'s go back to the day before the river water started to taste bitter."

With that, he found himself sev days in the past, near the Karloz River.

It was dark, the kind of dark where nothing was visible. So, Vyan summoned a small fire spirit for some light. He moved discreetly, a shadow among shadows, eyes scanning for anything suspicious.

He halted abruptly upon spotting a woman by the riverside, her long gown flowing in the gtle breeze.

He couldn\'t make out her face clearly until the clouds parted, and the moonlight bathed the sce in a silvery glow.

The moonlight reflected off the water, revealing a face he knew all too well. His eyes wided in shock and a bit of awe.

"Iyana?" he whispered, the name barely escaping his lips.

Just th, Vyan remembered his rect journey to the past. Iyana was wearing the same gown at first. It was the same day he had returned to on his first trial.

But how could she be here now?

He had cast a deep sleeping spell on her—there was no way she could be here. He was sure it had be elev in the night wh he cast the spell, and now it was past midnight.

It was impossible for her to be awake and about until it was morning.

So, who was this person masquerading as Iyana?

Vyan watched as the imposter took out a glass bottle filled with black liquid and poured it into the water. He couldn\'t stop her; interving would cause a major disruption to the prest.

Once she was done, she walked back towards the village, completely unconcerned with hiding her face.

At first, Vyan was confused about her inttions. Th it clicked.

This person was trying to frame Iyana!

If the villagers saw her now, they would never forget the face of such an ethereal beauty and reveal it later.

Shit, what can I do—

Suddly, the imposter fell to her knees, clutching her chest. "Ugh, Azazel, can\'t you let me hold onto this appearance for just a little bit longer?"

Did I hear that right? Azazel, the demon?

Vyan felt a shiver run down his spine.

I can\'t believe this person has contracted such a powerful demon.

"I know, okay? I know I already wasted much time talking to Lyon in Iyana\'s appearance. But can\'t you—" she writhed in pain. "Fine, have it your way!"

Vyan watched eagerly, hoping this person would now reveal their true face. Instead, they vanished into thin air.

Vyan was so frustrated he felt like banging his head on the wall until it made a dt.

"So Lyon thought he was protecting Iyana," he grumbled to himself, the words dripping with disbelief.

He had noticed that their bond had started to improve, but seriously? Lyon was guinely trying to keep his mouth sealed because this person had eluded him into thinking it was all Iyana\'s plans.

Until now, Vyan was convinced Lyon was putting on an award-worthy performance in front of Iyana, just like the rest of his family members.

More importantly, who was this imposter? This was no ordinary black magician, either. They had bagged Azazel, after all.

Amidst his thinking, Vyan\'s chest started to hurt and his vision wt black once again for a momt.

"Ugh, I should go back to the prest," he groaned, sounding like a time-travel-weary tourist.

The momt he landed back in the prest, his body betrayed him, and he collapsed into a heap on the floor, unconscious.

———

Vyan found himself veloped in darkness, the air heavy with an oppressive silce.

A sneering laugh shattered the stillness, reverberating a him like a sinister echo.

"How was my acting for the last four years? Flawless, right?" Iyana\'s voice dripped with contempt, her face twisted into a disgusting smirk.

Instead of the familiar sting of betrayal, Vyan stood up, his eyes locking onto hers with a cold intsity.

"What if Iyana was never acting and you are the imposter?" he challged, his voice unwavering.

She let out a chilling laugh, and suddly, another Iyana materialized on his other side.

This Iyana\'s smile was warm, almost tder, causing his heart to flutter despite himself.

"It\'s only you whom I adore so much!" the bright Iyana exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with guine affection. "That\'s why I always like being a you."

Vyan\'s lips began to curve into a smile, but the other Iyana\'s harsh voice cut through his reverie.

"Did you really think I kept you close because I liked you?" she sneered, her eyes glinting with malice.

Without warning, both Iyanas vanished, leaving Vyan alone in the dark as sces from the past flickered a him like ghostly apparitions.

"Seriously, how could you think that I, the daughter of an esteemed Marque, would stoop so low as to fall for a godforsak, nameless commoner like you? What could you possibly offer me?" one sce replayed, Iyana\'s voice filled with scorn.

"You have giv me more than anyone ever has, Vyan," another memory whispered, her tone soft and sincere.

"I am on my way to becoming the que! Can you imagine? A que! It has always be my dream!" her voice rang out, triumphant and distant.

"You want to know why my dream is to become the Commander of the Imperial Knights? Well, it\'s because I want to be an indepdt person with ough power in my hands so that I never have to rely on my family," another memory echoed, her resolve strong.

"Do you know what\'s ev funnier, Vyan? It\'s the fact that you actually believed I loved you," the cruel Iyana\'s voice taunted, each word like a dagger to his heart.

"Somebody I love… You idiot, read betwe the lines. I am talking about you," the kind Iyana\'s voice lingered, filled with warmth and affection.

Vyan jolted awake, gasping for breath. His whole body trembled, his skin clammy with cold sweat.

The brightness of his bedroom felt suffocating, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to him like a shroud.

Tears poured from his eyes with a force that defied his will. There was no stopping them, and he didn\'t ev try.

The weight of the epiphany dream crushed him, leaving him with nothing but the urge to shout and sob until his voice broke.

"Your Grace," came a gtle knock, "are you awake?" Iyana\'s voice filtered through the heavy door, a lifeline in the storm of his despair.

Hearing her, his composure shattered completely.

On the other hand, receiving no response, Iyana cautiously pushed op the door.

She had heard from Clyde that Vyan fainted and had come to check on him, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight before her: Vyan crumbling and weeping on the bed.

"Your Grace, what\'s wrong?" she asked, rushing to him, her heart pounding with fear and concern.

Without a word, Vyan reached out and clung to her, burying his face in her stomach, while she remained standing. It was as if she were his only anchor in a world turned upside down.

"I am so sorry," he choked out, his voice breaking, "I am so sorry."

"Your Grace, what are you talking about?" Iyana was utterly bewildered, but the sight of him so brok made her own heart ache.

"I am sorry, I am sorry. Please…" His apologies were a torrt of anguish, spilling forth without coherce.

"Your Grace…" She knelt beside him, veloping him in her arms. She didn\'t know the cause of his pain, but she felt an overwhelming need to be his solace.

"Vyan, please calm down. Tell me what you are sorry about."

"I… I…" He struggled, his words strangled by the lump in his throat. Shame and regret burned him from the inside out.

I am sorry for not believing in you and your love, my lady. It was never you who framed me.