The Ember Within

Memories or Echoes

"What do you mean? Princess, me?" I stammered, my heart racing as I feigned ignorance, a role I had grown all too familiar with.

He met my gaze, an intensity in his eyes that sent a shiver down my spine, his grin disappearing. "Just a coincidence, I suppose. But it's strange how some people can remind you of others, isn't it?"

In Redelvrid, the memory of the princess was little more than a distant echo, an unfortunate tale that had slipped through the cracks of time. No one truly remembered her—not in any meaningful way. The opulent ball around us swirled with laughter and vibrant colors, but I felt a chill that sliced through the warmth of the celebration.

A chill ran through me. "What do you mean? Are you saying I look like Princess Anna?" I demanded, my pulse quickening, the weight of my hidden identity pressing down on me like a heavy cloak.

Before he could respond, he suddenly released my hand and stepped back, his expression shifting as he scanned the room. "I should mingle a bit. It's a ball, after all."

Confusion twisted in my gut. "Wait—" But he was already moving away, lost in the throng of elegantly dressed guests, leaving me in the swirl of the dance floor, my mind racing. His casual dismissal only deepened my suspicions. Why had he brought up the princess? What did he know?

As I watched him blend into the crowd, I felt the thrill of uncertainty gnawing at me. The dance continued around me, the music swirling like a spell, but I was lost in my thoughts, grappling with questions that churned in my mind.

What was he hiding? Why had he mentioned the princess? The tension in my chest grew tighter, propelling me to seek answers. Suddenly, a memory flickered in my mind, igniting a thought: "Evan." Could he be Evan, my best friend, the very person who shares my pain? The name sent a rush of nostalgia through me, but as I watched him disappear into the throng, doubts crept in, dark and insistent.

Then I spotted him at a nearby table, casually picking up a slice of cheesecake. He took a bite, savoring it with a look of genuine delight that felt so ordinary, so unlike the intense moment we had shared just moments before. The decadent dessert, a stark contrast to the weight of our past, made me feel a pang of disappointment.

Evan would have been more focused, more serious—driven by the weight of our shared history. This man, Jase, was too carefree, too unfocused on the mission at hand.

"Is everything alright?" a voice interrupted my thoughts. It was Sharon, his brow furrowed as he watched me closely.

"I... I think he's someone I used to know," I replied, my gaze still fixed on the man.

"Uh, he is General Jase. He hails from a very powerful family and just returned from Roscend after studying wizardry there. So I don't think you know him." He dragged me to the food stall, grabbing a cookie with a casual air that belied the tension between us.

As I watched the man chat and laugh with others, frustration washed over me like a cold wave. He felt familiar, yet the carefree way he indulged in conversation was nothing like the Evan I remembered. Evan never would have been so distracted—he should be focused, should be serious.

"Evan, if you are..." I murmured under my breath, "you're not the only one with a past."

I took a deep breath. I couldn't let myself get sidetracked, not now. The mission was too important, and I had to put the past aside, at least for the moment.

"Sharon," I called as I faced him, my resolve hardening. "We need to stick to the plan. No distractions."

He nodded, concern etched on his face. "Yes, it's eleven now. The guards will shift soon. We have to move before they change."