I kept moaning softly as his lips traveled lower, igniting sparks across my skin. Every kiss, every touch sent waves of heat crashing through my body. My breath hitched as he trailed his mouth down my neck, his hands exploring deeper, slower—his fingers brushing over my bare skin with a familiarity that made my heart race.
His touch felt like a memory—something my body remembered even if my mind didn't. My back arched slightly, pressing myself closer to him, and I gasped as his hand slipped lower, grazing between my thighs.
"Ahhh," I moaned, trembling from the sheer intensity of it. My body was on fire—burning with a pleasure I couldn't explain, and for a moment, I completely lost myself in the feeling.
But then—
A flash.
Suddenly, a memory jolted through me like lightning.
I was in a garden, laughing. Twirling in the sunlight as flower petals danced around me. Ciel was there, smiling—his smile warm and soft, not the dark, guarded one he always wore now.
What was that?
The memory felt real—too real. I didn't remember living it, but it was mine. I knew it was. My body froze for a second beneath him.
"Clara?" Ciel's voice was low and rough, filled with both desire and concern as he looked down at me, searching my face.
I blinked, swallowing hard. "I... I saw something," I whispered.
His hands stilled. "What did you see?"
"I don't know," I whispered, voice shaking. "A memory, I think. It felt... warm. Like peace."
Like home.
I pulled away from him, trembling, my breath catching in my throat.
What was that?
Why did it feel so real—so mine?
Confusion swirled inside me like a storm, pushing away the haze of pleasure. The garden, the laughter… it wasn't a dream. It couldn't be.
I turned away, trying to steady my heartbeat. "What's wrong?" Ciel asked, gently pulling me closer again. His voice was soft now, laced with concern instead of desire.
His silver eyes searched mine, and for the first time, I saw something there—fear.
"Nothing," I whispered, looking down. My hands were shaking beneath the water.
"You said it felt like home," he said carefully. "Did you… remember something?"
"No," I lied quickly, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't remember anything. I'm just… tired."
I moved back through the water, creating distance between us. His stare didn't leave me, but he didn't stop me either.
I climbed out of the spring, the cold air biting against my flushed skin as I grabbed my cloak and slipped it back on. My heart was still racing, not from the heat of his touch—but from that memory. The warmth. The peace.
Was it really nothing?
I didn't look back as I walked away, but I could still feel his eyes on me—quiet, unreadable, watching every step I took.
I walked slowly back to my room, the soft echo of my footsteps in the empty hallway barely registering in my ears.
My body was still warm from the springs, but my thoughts were cold—spinning, tangled, restless.
When I reached my room, I shut the door behind me and began slipping out of my wet clothes. The fabric clung to my skin, heavy with water and something else I couldn't name—guilt? Confusion? Longing?
Piece by piece, I shed the warmth of that moment and stepped into the chill of the silence.
I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment… then laid down, my bare skin against the cool sheets, my eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
What was that memory?
I had never seen that image before. Spinning, laughing, barefoot in the garden. But it felt so familiar, so warm. A piece of myself I didn't even know I'd lost.
Could it have been Ciel? A spell? Some kind of manipulation while we were in the water?
I wanted to believe that.
But it didn't feel like a lie.
It felt real. Like it belonged to me—like I'd lived it.
My mind kept racing in loops, trying to make sense of it, trying to lock it away. But no matter how many times I told myself to forget it, the memory stayed—bright and vivid, like a spark refusing to die out.
I turned onto my side, pulling the sheets up to my chest. "What's happening to me?" I whispered to the dark.
But no one answered.
Just the silence... and that memory, burning behind my closed eyes.
Ciel's POV
What was that…?
I stood there for a moment in the silence of the spring, my hands frozen mid-motion as I stared at the spot where she had just been.
"She said it felt like home…" I whispered aloud, replaying the look in her eyes, the shift in her voice.
Could it be? Could she have remembered?
A flicker of hope lit something deep in my chest—happiness, sharp and unfamiliar. She was finally remembering. Finally awakening to the truth hidden in her heart.
I stepped out of the water and dried myself off, dressing quickly in my robe as I replayed every second in my mind. She looked… overwhelmed. No, startled. Maybe even afraid. But not because of me. Because of herself.
She remembered something. Even if just a piece.
I left the springs and made my way through the quiet corridor, each footstep echoing softly against the marble floors. Her room was dimly lit when I entered. She was curled beneath the covers, asleep, her damp hair scattered across the pillow like spilled ink.
I sat on the edge of her bed for a moment, my fingers brushing her cheek.
"It's all right, my love," I whispered. "It will all make sense soon."
I leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing a few strands of hair away before tucking the blanket tighter around her.
Then I dressed properly and slipped out of the room, making my way back to my study.
"Jason," I called.
He entered swiftly, bowing. "Yes, Your Highness?"
"Did you find out anything while I was… away?"
"Yes, Your Highness," he said gravely. "And what I discovered… is troubling."
I straightened. "Go on."
"There is a spy inside the castle," he said carefully. "Someone is watching her. Reporting movements. I don't yet know who—but they're close. Very close."
A shadow crossed my face.
"Find them," I said, my voice colder now. "And make sure they don't live long enough to warn anyone else."
Jason bowed. "Understood, Your Highness."
Clara's POV
As I closed my eyes, sleep pulled me under—and the memory returned.
That same dream. The garden. Me twirling in circles beneath the open sky, surrounded by endless blossoms, and the sound of laughter—his laughter—filling the air.
"You're going to feel dizzy if you keep that up," Ciel's voice echoed through the dream, warm and teasing.
Then I felt his arms around me, steadying me.
"My head is spinning…" I whispered, leaning into him.
He chuckled softly. "I told you that would happen," he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face as his fingers gently stroked my head.
"It's getting colder. We should go inside," he murmured, but I shook my head, slipping from his embrace.
"No," I said, smiling as I twirled again. "I want to stay a little longer."
I danced through the garden, carefree—until my foot caught on a pebble.
"Ah!" I gasped as I stumbled.
But strong arms caught me mid-fall.
"You should be more careful, my love," he said softly, lifting me into his arms with ease.
I blinked up at him, heart racing, and he smiled.
"It's time to go to back," he said.
"Nooo," I protested playfully, laughing in his arms as he carried me back toward the castle. His deep laugh joined mine, the sound wrapping around me like a blanket of warmth.
And then—darkness.
I opened my eyes, breath catching in my throat. My heart was still racing. The warmth of his arms still lingered on my skin like an echo.
What… was that?
I sat up, dazed, the fading traces of the dream clinging to me like dew. It felt so real. So alive. That garden… that laughter… his touch… it didn't feel like a dream at all.
It felt like a memory.
No, I told myself, clutching the covers tightly. That wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Why was I dreaming things like that? Why did it feel so good, so safe—so right?
Was he playing with my head? Were these false memories planted somehow?
I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts, but I couldn't. The emotions refused to fade. My chest still ached with longing. My lips still curled into a smile I didn't understand.
Was it truly real?
I buried myself under the covers again, confused and lost, trying to chase away the warmth still lingering in my veins—trying to forget the feelings that memory stirred.
But part of me didn't want to forget.