Third Person's Point of View 11th Century, February 18, 1100 Blackstone Plaza, Cavendell Capital The Blackstone Plaza was silent. Cold stone stretched wide beneath a gray sky, and the air felt heavy, as if the Altos Empire itself were holding its breath. Guards stood in long lines. Nobles watched from a distance, wrapped in their dark cloaks as if they were already mourning even before it had begun. Common people filled the far edges of the square, whispering but never too loudly. Some were shocked and could not believe what was happening, some quietly rejoiced, while others felt pity for the current situation of their Empress. At the center stood the cruel Empress of the Altos Empire. She wore a simple, plain white dress. No makeup. No luxurious gowns. No jewelry. No crown. Nothing marked her as royalty anymore. Chains wrapped around her wrists and ankles. They were heavy, making her walk slowly. Still, she stood straight. Her back was firm, her head held high. There was no fear on her face. No tears on her cheeks. Only calm was visible. She also looked thin and pale, but not broken. The execution platform loomed in front of her. Dark wood, clean, and prepared for her. A royal herald stepped forward and read the charges aloud. "The Empress of the Altos Empire is hereby charged with high treason. She is accused of plotting to undermine the Imperial Council, hoarding state funds, and inciting unrest to secure absolute power beyond the law. By the authority of the gathered nobles and the will of the realm, the verdict is pronounced: Guilty. For her crimes against the Empire and its people, she is sentenced to death." The Empress did not react. She listened carefully, as if the words belonged to someone else. When the man finished, he asked, "Do you have anything to say?" For a moment, the Empress said nothing. Then she lifted her eyes and looked at the people-not at the council, not at the guards, not at the nobles who avoided her gaze. Instead, she looked at the crowd, her beloved people. "I have performed my duty," she claimed. Her voice was soft but clear. It carried across the plaza without effort. "That is all," she said, and for the first time, people saw her smile, neither forced nor fake. It was a genuine smile that only the people of the Altos Empire witnessed at that very moment. A murmur spread, but it was quickly silenced by the guards scattered around the plaza. High above, on the balcony of the Old High Council Hall, the Emperor of the Altos Empire stood. Red, black, and gold against gray stone. His face was unreadable. His hands were still. He did not stop it. He did not even try to do so. The order was given, and to him, his Empress deserved that verdict because of the crime she had committed against the Empire. The execution guards moved closer. Chains rattled as they guided her forward. She walked on her own, step by step, slow and steady. The white of her dress stood out against the dark platform like a quiet defiance. She did not struggle and did not look back. When she reached the center of the platform, the wind lifted her unique long white hair gently. For a brief moment, she closed her eyes. There was no prayer, no plea, no regret... only silence. The sentence was carried out. She would experience the most tragic execution in the Altos Empire-her life ended beneath the executioner's blade. She kept her eyes closed, even though she felt the blade piercing her flawless skin. She had been ready for days, so she felt no nervousness whatsoever. "This Empire may forget me... but the future will make things right for me," she whispered, not minding the pain. When it was over, the plaza remained quiet. Only the sound of wind against stone and the beginning of a history that would erase her name... but never her presence.

Marigold's Point of View 21st Century, February 15, 2026 Zeller University, Cavendell Capital I took off my white, round glasses and a satisfied smile spread across my lips as I closed the third history book I had read this month. It was all about a three volume 10th-century history book during the Gua Dynasty. I had enjoyed reading it, as I always learned a lot about the past and how it affected today's modern century. I looked around the library, where I often hung out alone to kill time. Only a few students were left. Some were engrossed in their reading, others had dozed off, and a few were glued to their phones. I wouldn't have realized it was already eight in the evening until I checked my phone. It was already late. I tidied up my scattered belongings on the table before returning the books to their shelves. I immediately frowned when I saw three empty spaces next to the 10th-century books-the 11th-century books were missing. Beside the space were the 12th-century volumes, which were odd because this section was usually the most organized in the library, since no one was very interested in these kinds of books. Hmm, did someone borrow them before me? I immediately felt disappointed by that thought. I was actually planning on borrowing them so that I could read them at hom- "Are you looking for this, Miss Sinclair?" I let out a sharp curse when someone suddenly spoke right beside me. There stood Mrs. Calle, holding the book I wanted to borrow. She immediately reprimanded me for the noise I made. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Calle. You just caught me off guard," I apologized respectfully. "I-Is that the 11th-century volumes?" I asked, my eyes shining brightly as I observed the books she was holding. They were thick, heavy, and looked incredibly old and authentic. Mrs. Edith Calle was our university's librarian. She had dark hair pulled into a loose bun and observant eyes behind her thin-framed glasses. If my memory serves me right, she became a librarian at our university just last year, and since she came here, the number of history books in the library has been increasing incredibly fast! Mrs. Calle's eyebrows automatically arched, as if I were a new kind of species in her eyes. "I assume that you want to borrow these books?" she asked. Without hesitation, I nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Calle. I just finished reading about the Gua Dynasty." "But the Cavendish Dynasty is far from the Gua Dynasty, dear. I wouldn't recommend that students borrow this book outside the library. You can bor-" "I promise I'll return them after three days, Mrs. Calle. I just... really, really want to read them. I feel like I won't be able to sleep if I don't read them," I insisted, cutting her off. I had heard many stories that during this time, the third Empress of the Altos Empire was appointed-one who had no name because she was cold and ruthless toward the people of the Altos Empire. She was eventually executed and erased from history. Until now, no one knows her name. Mrs. Calle wouldn't take her eyes off me, as if she wanted to read whatever was running through my mind at this hour. "Give me a valid reason why I should let you borrow these books outside the library?" she asked, showing a book with no title, clearly worn out. I winced. I wasn't aware that this was an interview, eh? I stood up straight and smiled slightly. In my posture now, I looked as if I were about to answer a question in my professor's recit. I cleared my throat. "I've been passionate about history since elementary school, and I truly want to understand the people and events that shaped our world. These books are rare, and reading them will help me learn lessons that aren't found anywhere else. I believe that history has already been forgotten by many people. If no one reads this, then they really disappear," I sincerely answered. Mrs. Calle paused and amusingly observed me then she eventually smiled and handed me the books. "Very well... but you must be careful, sweetheart. Remember, these books... they're not like any other. You might... go back further than you expect," she said meaningfully. I tilted my head, puzzled. "What do you mean go back, ma'am?" I asked. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders before turning her back to me. I thought she was going to leave completely, but she spoke again. "Some histories don't like being read. They prefer being witnessed by the reader's eyes and consciousness." She turned to me. "Three days only, Miss Sinclair. I expect you to bring it back to me on Wednesday." I just followed her with my eyes until she returned to the front desk. I tilted my head slightly, a little confused by what she said. I took a deep breath and just brushed it off my mind. I need to go home because my brother is probably waiting for me at home. After logging out, I hurried out of the library. I passed a few students in the hallway but chose to ignore them. It was already half past eight, and the school closed at ten in the evening. I still had to buy dinner for us since my brother had most likely done nothing at home again. When I got home, I wasn't wrong. The moment I stepped through the door, I was greeted by scattered plastic wrappers of junk food, candies, cup noodles, and cans of soda all over the floor. "Are you stupid? Don't go there! There's an enemy! Idiot!" my brother shouted repeatedly, completely absorbed in his online game and not even noticing I had arrived. I took a deep breath, picked up the trash from the floor, and threw it in the bin. Then I went straight to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the two of us. Before calling my brother to eat, I tackled the pile of dishes in the sink that had been sitting there since morning. My arms ached, and my mind was heavy from a full day of studying and reading, but complaining wasn't an option. There was no one else to rely on. Mom had died giving birth to Monroe. Dad was always busy working, barely home-maybe twice a month at most. All he did was hand us our weekly allowance and leave as if he doesn't have kids to take care of. "Monroe, it's time to eat! You can play after," I called, my voice carrying across the room, but he didn't seem to hear me. After several failed attempts, I sighed and decided to take his food to him. I found him in the living room, glued to his game. Carefully, I pulled the headphones off his ears and set the plate down in front of him. "Eat first. You can play later," I said firmly, trying to keep my patience. Still, he ignored me. My frown deepened. "Are you seriously just going to play or you're going to lose your allowance, Monroe Franco Sinclair?" I warned, a hint of exasperation in my voice. Finally, his fingers stopped moving over the keyboard. He scowled, got up, and muttered, "Fine!" I watched him stomp off to the dining room, carrying the plate I'd given him earlier. I made sure to turn off his computer before following him to the kitchen. "Did you do your homework?" I asked in the middle of dinner. Monroe pouted and shook his head. "I don't understand any of it!" he complained. I rolled my eyes. "You don't understand your lessons, but you can somehow play games just fine. No computer for you until you finish your homework. And don't forget, you have school tomorrow," I added. His pout got even longer before he finally nodded. He is already sixteen years old yet he's still stubborn! After dinner, he did as I told him while I changed into my comfy clothes and returned to the dining room to start reading the book I'd borrowed. I only have three days to finish it, so I'll be skipping school for a little while. I think that wouldn't hurt. As the seconds passed, I didn't even realize how deeply absorbed I had become in what I was reading. They were right, what everyone said was true. The former empress who had once been married to the late Emperor Leopold Pierce Cavendish had no recorded name. The only proof that she had ever existed was her natural white hair, one of a kind, that had been witnessed by many. I was only halfway through, yet I hadn't come across a single admirable trait about her. The book heavily emphasized her cruelty-how cold, emotionless, ruthless, sharp, and intimidating she was. It even referred to her as the emperor's shadow, claiming that she was the one truly controlling Emperor Leopold in ruling the entire Altos Empire during those years of her tenure before being executed. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours, and hours into days. I lost track of time completely. I barely slept; even when I closed my eyes, it felt as though I was still reading. I had been locked in my room all day, stepping out only to cook food for Monroe before returning to my room to continue reading. "One more book," I whispered, glancing at the calendar on top of my desk. I had been reading for two days straight, and I only had one day left to finish this volume. This was probably the fastest reading marathon I had ever done in my life. These books weren't written like novels. They were more educational in style, filled with bullet points and structured formats. I adjusted my glasses and rubbed the back of my neck. "I'll just read one page," I told myself with a yawn. But exhaustion took over before I realized it. I fell asleep with my head resting on the open book, my thick, frizzy curls spilling across the pages. Little did I know, that was the very moment history would allow me not only to witness it, but to live through it myself.

Marigold's Point of View I slowly cracked my eyes open, muttering to myself as if my brain were pounding from the inside. I wanted to drift back to sleep, my body still begging for rest, but the surface beneath me was cold-wait? Hmm, why am I even lying on the floor? Panic prickled down my spine as I pushed myself up, my eyes widening. Everything around me looked unnervingly sharp, like the world had been magnified under a microscope, even though I wasn't wearing glasses. I looked at my surroundings. This wasn't my room. I was sitting on cold marble tiles, probably in a washroom. A massive mirror with an intricate gold frame loomed before me, reflecting a space that gleamed with luxury. Every corner, every fixture shimmered with gold accents. It was luxurious... and completely unfamiliar. A shiver ran through me-not from the cold, but from the unsettling realization that I had no idea how I had ended up here. I also noticed that I was no longer wearing a loose gray T-shirt and short cotton shorts. Instead, I was dressed in a red and black gown embroidered with gold and adorned with details I couldn't even begin to understand. When I touched my hair, it was long, straight, and white-a far more different from my curly, thick, frizzy black hair. Am I still asleep? Is this just a dream? I stood up from the cold floor as panic rose in my chest. I thought I would calm down after seeing my reflection, but when I saw the unfamiliar face staring back at me in the mirror, I felt even worse. "This isn't real... this isn't real..." I whispered, slapping myself in front of the mirror, only to wince at the sting. "Who am I? Where am I?" I asked myself while scanning the entire washroom. "Your Majesty, are you okay? We need to return to the hall..." A voice from outside the door made my heart pound even faster. I tightly gripped my gloved hand while pacing restlessly inside the washroom, trying to think about what I needed to do. All I remember is that I was reading an 11th-century book. I fell asleep because I was so tired, and then- Wait, the 11th century? Wasn't I reading about the nameless empress with white hair- My feet suddenly stopped moving as I looked at myself in the mirror once more. I immediately replayed in my mind the physical description mentioned in the book, aside from her hair which was whiter than white. Pale steel-gray eyes. Pale skin. Slender fingers. "N-No..." I whispered. Of all the places my soul could have ended up, why did it have to be in the Empress, of all people?! What am I supposed to do? I need to think of a way out! This can't be happening-this can't be real. Am I dead?! How did I die?! Did someone murder me?! What about my brother?! Is he okay? I slapped my cheek again, wincing at the sting as my skin flushed red. I bit my lower lip and looked around. There wasn't a single window in the room that I could use to see outside. "Your Majesty, the Emperor is already searching for you," the person behind the door said again. My heart started pounding even faster from nervousness. I took a deep breath to calm myself. If it's true that I've somehow been sent back to the past, then I can't let anyone notice. There's a high chance that if they find out I'm not really their Empress, I'll lose my head-here and now. I kept repeating in my mind everything I remembered about this Empress. She was quiet, so I should avoid speaking unless it's necessary. I'll observe first before taking any action. After a few minutes, I finally calmed down and stepped outside. Fortunately, I love reading, so I know how nobles from the past usually behave. It's just too bad that there wasn't much information about this Empress, so I still don't know exactly how I'm supposed to act. I didn't even know her name since it had been wiped from all records in the 21st century! When I stepped out the door, a young woman in a maid's uniform immediately bowed before me, her movements precise and respectful. "The Emperor is waiting for you at the Old High Council Hall, Your Majesty," she said politely, her head still lowered. Even from a distance, I could feel the tension radiating from her. Did she just say the Old High Council Hall? If my memory serves me right, directly in front of the Old Council Hall stood Blackstone Plaza-the very place where the Empress, who is now me, had once been executed. Why would the Emperor be waiting for me there? A chill ran down my spine, and my heart began pounding in my chest. Could it be... is today the day I'm going to be executed?! Lord, what sin have I committed to deserve this suffering? "What day is it today?" I asked calmly as we walked through the wide, seemingly endless hallway. With every step I took, I memorized the surroundings, noting each detail with quiet precision. "P-Pardon, Your Majesty?" she stammered, clearly not expecting me to speak. "What day is it today?" I repeated. The maid's bow deepened as she hurried to keep pace with me. "T-Today is Wednesday, the eighteenth of February," she said, her voice trembling with anxiety. Shit! "And the year?" I asked casually, as if it were nothing but my heart was beating so fast. "T-The year of our Lord one thousand ninety-seven, Your Majesty," she whispered. I was momentarily stunned by what I heard. So I really did go back to the past? According to a piece of information written in the book I read, the Empress who owned this body died on February 18 as well, but in the year 1100, at the age of twenty-four. That means if it's only 1097, my age now is twenty-one, three years before the historical execution of the most controversial Empress in history. I shivered slightly as I imagined losing my head. I'd rather die of illness than die headless. Gosh! "Y-Your Majesty, are you well?" the servant asked softly but cautiously, stopping because of my sudden pause. I cleared my throat. "Yes, I am," I answered sparingly. I'm not used to acting like this in front of people, but I have to get used to it... for now. We continued walking in silence. I wanted to speak, to ask questions, but I didn't want to make this servant even more intimidated than she already is. After what felt like an endless walk, we finally emerged from the hallway. A royal guard came to fetch me. The guard and the servant exchanged a simple nod before the servant left, bowing politely one last time. Now, I was flanked by two royal guards walking on either side of me. We were leaving the palace. I didn't have much chance to observe the interior because I could sense the urgency in the royal guard's pace. We stopped in front of a large carriage pulled by three horses. It bore the symbol of two lions facing each other, each holding a flag of the Altos Empire-the same one I had seen in the book. It was the symbol of the Cavendish Dynasty. I swallowed hard as the guards helped me into the carriage. I had assumed I would be alone inside, but my eyes widened slightly when I saw someone already there: a woman with black hair cut in a pixie style. I silently observed her. She was wearing a regal military-style outfit in bright white and deep red. The ensemble featured a sharp white jacket with red buttons and a high collar, paired with matching white pants and tall lace-up boots. A long red cape flowed from her shoulders, accented by a red sash and silver chains adorned with lion-shaped jewelry. "Greetings, Your Majesty," she greeted respectfully while bowing. "Greetings..." I replied softly, weighing her identity in my mind. "Your Majesty, I just want to give you a quick update. I apologize for the rush. The prisoner has already been taken from the underground dungeon, and within the next half hour, the execution you ordered will be carried out," she said seriously, still bowing her head. My brow furrowed. "Execution?" I couldn't help blurting out when I finally processed her words. She lifted her gaze. "Yes, Your Majesty. You did give that command yesterday, didn't you?" What is this Empress thinking? Did something happen that led her to give this command? I cleared my throat, straightened my back, and looked outside the moving carriage. "Yes, I know," I said, using it as an excuse. Secretly, I scolded myself. I can't let the people here notice anything strange. I might end up dying even sooner! Gosh, I can't let my coming to the past go to waste without learning anything. If I need to find a way to prevent my death, I'll do it-for myself and for this Empress as well! But I wish I at least had some idea, right? How am I supposed to fulfill my duties when I don't even know anything about my own identity? Empress, wherever you are right now, please help me...