“I remember.” I whispered, clutching my knees to my chest as I stared at the oddly calming blue walls. “I remember her, but I don’t know who she is. I know that I loved her.” I heard the man shuffling in the background.

“Well, Mr. Oh, if you don’t know who she is, how do you know you love her? What’s her name? What does she look like?” He asked. Therapists always took things way too seriously. Had I not just said I didn’t know who she was? I couldn’t have been more clear.

“N-no, but I remember other things. I remember a castle…a fountain that she was looking at, the ballroom…I remember it.” I whispered, remembering the vivid images of the meeting with the Princess. Where was she now? Did she remember me in the same way I remembered her? “She has a kind face, her voice is like listening to music. She’s significantly shorter than me, she was betrothed.”

“How could you fall in love with a betrothed woman?” My therapist seemed skeptical. “You’ve told me before that you were just a servant. Peasants and nobles couldn’t be together. Tell me about her betrothed.”

“She hated him, or at least she didn’t want to be with him. He was shorter than me. He had dark hair and his eyes just gleamed with evil.” I shivered at the memory of whoever this man was. But…it wasn’t fair. I could remember everything, yet I couldn’t find any history of either of them.

“Well, Mr. Oh, when did these…visions come to you?”

“When I was told the truth. When my mother, Oh Yerim, told me she wasn’t my birth mother.”