CHAPTER 2 — THE MEMORY RETURNS
Lena stumbled backward, gripping the edge of a table.
Her vision blurred—not from tears, but from memory forcing its way through locked doors in her mind.
She saw herself as a child.
A crown too heavy.
A palace garden at night.
And blood on white snow.
Charles Whitman finally lost control of his voice.
“This is insane… she’s a servant girl. Look at her!”
But Adrian turned slightly toward him.
“And yet she reacts like someone who remembers.”
Lena’s fingers curled into her uniform.
Her voice broke for the first time.
“I don’t understand… I don’t understand why I see fire…”
The room tightened.
Victoria’s lips parted, but no words came.
Adrian stepped closer.
“Because they didn’t just take your name,” he said. “They took your life.”
A long silence.
Then Lena whispered, almost afraid of her own voice:
“Who am I?”
Adrian answered without hesitation.
“You are Elena Volkov. The lost heir of the Volkov throne.”
The chandelier above them flickered.
May you like
Somewhere far outside the palace walls, thunder rolled.
And for the first time in fifteen years—someone was coming back for her.
