Chapter 27
The Memory
Carol returned to her chambers with her heart still racing from the evening's events.
The banquet. The wine. The applause. The acceptance.
But underneath the triumph, something else gnawed at her.
Millicent's words echoed in her mind: "You trapped him. Everyone knows it. You used a seduction spell. Got yourself pregnant. Forced the Duke into marriage with your scheming."
It was true.
Not for Carol—she'd never done those things. But Caroline had.
And Carol was living in Caroline's body, reaping the consequences of Caroline's actions.
Mochi and Shadow greeted her immediately, sensing her distress. Shadow whined softly, pressing against her legs. Mochi meowed and rubbed his head against her hand.
"I'm okay," Carol said quietly, kneeling to pet them both. "Just... thinking."
She stood and looked toward the corner where her companion sprites hovered.
Lumi floated near the window, her golden glow soft in the lamplight. Missy perched on the bedpost, her red-purple energy crackling with curiosity.
"You want to know, don't you?" Lumi said gently. "What really happened. Three and a half months ago."
Carol nodded. "Millicent said I trapped him. That I used a spell. Got pregnant. Forced the marriage." She paused. "Is that true? I know the basics from the game system, but I don't... I don't remember it. Not really."
"Because you're not her," Missy said, unusually serious. "You're Carol. The transmigrator. You don't have Caroline's memories—not unless you choose to access them."
"I can do that?" Carol asked.
"You're in her body," Lumi explained. "Her memories are still there, stored in this brain. You just need to focus. Concentrate on the moment you want to see, and the memory will surface."
Carol's stomach twisted with apprehension. "I'm not sure I want to see it."
"You need to," Lumi said firmly but kindly. "If you're going to carry this guilt, you should at least know what actually happened. Not the rumors. Not the gossip. The truth."
Carol took a breath and sat on the edge of her bed.
"How do I...?"
"Just close your eyes," Lumi said. "Focus on that night. The ball. Three and a half months ago. Let the memory come."
Carol closed her eyes.
At first, there was nothing. Just darkness and the sound of her own breathing.
Then, slowly, images began to form.
Colors. Sounds. Sensations.
And suddenly, she wasn't Carol anymore.
She was Caroline.
◆◆◆
Three and a Half Months Ago
The ballroom glittered with candlelight and jewels.
Caroline Holloway stood near the refreshment table, her emerald gown rustling as she adjusted her hair for the third time. Her heart raced with anticipation and nervousness.
Tonight. Tonight was the night.
She'd spent weeks preparing the spell. Researching ancient texts on love magic, practicing the intricate mind-weaving required to make it work. The spell circle was already drawn in the eastern gardens, hidden in a secluded alcove surrounded by flowering bushes.
All she needed was for Percival to step into it.
"Are you ready?" Lucinda whispered, appearing at her elbow with a sweet smile.
Caroline's cousin looked radiant in her pale pink gown, honey-blonde curls perfectly arranged, the picture of innocence.
"I'm terrified," Caroline admitted. "What if it doesn't work? What if he—"
"It will work," Lucinda said confidently. "You've prepared everything perfectly. The spell circle, the activation trigger, everything. All I need to do is tell Earl Sinclair that Lady Rosalie wants to meet him privately in the eastern gardens, and he'll go. Then the spell does the rest."
"You're sure he'll believe you?" Caroline asked.
"Absolutely," Lucinda said. "Everyone knows he's fond of her. He won't question it."
Caroline felt her stomach flutter with nerves and excitement. After tonight, Percival would finally see her. Would finally love her the way she'd loved him for years.
"I'll go wait in the gardens now," Caroline said. "You know where to find me?"
"The eastern alcove, past the fountain," Lucinda confirmed. "I'll send him in fifteen minutes. Just... try to look romantic when he arrives. Moonlight, flowers, beautiful maiden—you know the image."
Caroline nodded and slipped away from the ballroom, her heart pounding.
The gardens were cool and quiet after the noise of the ball. Caroline made her way to the eastern section, to the secluded alcove she'd chosen specifically for this purpose.
The spell circle was exactly where she'd left it—faint silvery lines drawn with her Mind magic, invisible to anyone who didn't know to look for them. Ancient symbols arranged in precise patterns, designed to activate when the target stepped within the circle's bounds.
A love spell. A seduction spell.
It would make Percival see her as irresistible. Would make him desire her, want her, need her.
And once the spell took hold, once they... consummated it... the magic would fade but the emotional connection would remain. He'd remember the passion, the desire, the intimacy.
He'd finally be hers.
Caroline positioned herself artfully near the circle's edge, arranging her skirts, practicing her smile.
Footsteps approached through the garden.
Caroline's heart leaped. Percival.
But the man who stepped into the moonlit alcove wasn't golden-haired and blue-eyed.
He was tall, silver-haired, with jade-green eyes that caught the moonlight.
Caspian Vanthorn. The Butcher of the North.
Caroline's breath stopped.
No. No, no, no—what is he doing here?
"Lady Caroline," Caspian said, sounding mildly surprised to see her. "I didn't expect to find anyone out here."
"Your Grace," Caroline managed, her mind racing. He can't step into the circle. He can't—
But Caspian was already moving forward, his long strides carrying him directly toward her.
Directly onto the spell circle.
"Wait—" Caroline started, reaching out instinctively to stop him.
Her hand touched his chest just as his boot crossed the circle's boundary.
The spell activated.
Silver light exploded around them, ancient symbols flaring to life, magic surging through the air with a sound like wind chimes and thunder.
Caroline gasped as the spell's power hit her—but something was wrong.
The magic was supposed to flow from her to the target. One-directional. Controlled.
Instead, it struck Caspian and reflected.
His mana—powerful, vast, unlike anything Caroline had ever encountered—met her spell and magnified it tenfold. His Matter Manipulation responded instinctively to the magic, amplifying it, redirecting it.
The spell that should have made him desire her suddenly flowed both ways.
Caroline felt it crash into her like a wave—overwhelming desire, burning need, her entire body suddenly aching for the man standing inches away from her.
And Caspian's eyes, usually so cold and controlled, suddenly darkened with matching intensity.
"Caroline," he breathed, and his voice was rough with want.
"No, this isn't—" Caroline tried to say, but the words died as his hand cupped her face.
"I can't—" Caspian started, but he was already leaning down.
Their lips met, and the world exploded into sensation.
The spell burned through Caroline's veins like fire. Every nerve ending sang with need. She was distantly aware that this was wrong, that this wasn't supposed to happen, that this wasn't even the right man—
But none of it mattered. Nothing mattered except the way he was kissing her, the way his hands were in her hair, the way she was pulling him closer, desperate for more contact, more touch, more.
Caspian's Matter Manipulation activated without conscious thought.
The ground beneath them softened, flowers blooming and weaving together to form a bed of petals. The surrounding bushes grew and rearranged themselves, creating a living privacy screen, blocking the view from any potential passersby.
All of it happened in seconds, his power responding to the spell's demands, creating the perfect environment for what was about to happen.
Caroline felt herself being lowered onto the flower bed, Caspian following her down, his weight pressing against her in ways that made coherent thought impossible.
The spell demanded consummation.
Caroline’s hands clutched at Caspian’s coat, pulling him closer even as her mind screamed that this was wrong. The spell thrummed between them, a living thing that erased doubt and hesitation, leaving only hunger.
Caspian kissed her slowly at first, almost reverently, as though he feared she might break.
His mouth was warm, careful, tasting her with gentle sweeps of his tongue that coaxed soft whimpers from her throat.
When she parted her lips wider, inviting him in, he groaned quietly and deepened the kiss, his fingers threading through her hair to cradle the back of her head.
He pulled back just enough to trail kisses along her jaw, then down the sensitive column of her neck.
Caroline arched instinctively, gasping when his lips found the rapid flutter of her pulse.
His hands moved with the same deliberate care, easing the shoulders of her gown down until cool night air kissed her skin.
When he lowered his mouth to her breast, closing gently around one aching peak, she cried out softly, fingers tightening in his silver hair.
“Caspian…” His name left her lips like a plea.
He lingered there, lavishing attention on each breast with slow, worshipful kisses and soft strokes of his tongue until she was trembling beneath him.
Only then did he continue downward, pressing open-mouthed kisses over her ribs, her stomach, until he settled between her thighs.
Caroline’s breath hitched as he parted her gently with his fingers, his touch reverent, almost hesitant.