Chapter 2 | Jacinta
770 Words
April 9th, 1320, Saturday
Illiah Empire
Lemroz City
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"According to Sigmund Freud, phylogenetic endowment is a portion of our unconscious that originates from the experiences of our early ancestors—passed down through countless generations of repetition."
Yes. Jacinta knew this. It was one of her favorite concepts in her past life.
"Freud believed this was the best explanation for instinct. For example, if you fear wild animals without knowing why, it may be because your ancestors learned to associate them with danger. This knowledge, carried through our DNA, influences our unconscious mind."
'Hah... So that's why my irrational fear of knives or anything blade related.' Jacinta frowned once again.
For the past three months, She'd been plagued by fevers and severe headaches — accompanied by vivid, unsettling dreams.
In those dreams, Jacinta saw a young woman with dark brown hair and black eyes named Lorelei. That woman had just graduated from college and spent the next eight months consumed by preparations for her board exams in psychology.
A life filled with hope.
And then, it ended. Just like that.
Jacinta blinked, pulling herself back to reality.
"Six months from now, the Crown Prince and the Imperial Princess will return. The Empress must be anxious because of this."
"Hush. Be careful — someone might hear you."
The hushed whispers of the maids echoed through the corridor. Jacinta glanced their way. Their gossiping came to an abrupt halt the moment they saw her. Eyes wide with fear, they lowered their heads in a hurried bow.
She ignored them and continued walking, the weight of her thoughts growing heavier.
Three months of illness, and yet the doctors found nothing wrong. They said it was probably due to stress.
But now, she knew the truth.
Seated on the balcony of my room, she gazed at the vast cityscape stretching beyond the castle walls. The cold breeze nipped at her skin, but she welcomed it. It grounded her.
"I reincarnated, huh."
The words slipped from Jacinta's lips, tasting both bitter and surreal.
She wasn't just reborn into any world — she had awoken within the pages of a novel she once read.
A twisted sense of irony curled at the corners of her mouth. "Even saying how cliche this is already cliche itself."
If she were a reader right now, she'd probably skim through this 'sudden realization' part. After all, it was the most predictable trope in every reincarnation story.
But how did she remember the novel so vividly?
The answer hovered just above her.
A book — glowing faintly, its pages suspended in the air like an ethereal presence. No one else could see it. Jacinta was certain of that. At first, she thought it was a hallucination, a lingering symptom of her illness. But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the book never disappeared.
Crimson Sun.
That was its title, etched in glowing letters on the front page.
Her death in the previous world had been violent. Stabbed multiple times on my way to the grocery store. A gruesome, senseless end.
And now, it seemed fate had woven another grim destiny for her.
She stood and approached the mirror. The reflection staring back was no longer the familiar face she once knew.
Platinum hair cascaded down my shoulders, shimmering under the light. Golden eyes, as bright as molten sun, stared back — a symbol of imperial lineage.
"I looked ethereal, like a cosplayer."
But this wasn't a costume.
In this world, she was Jacinta Pendegraff. The third imperial princess.
A child born from the second Empress — she was a minor villain destined to meet her end on the guillotine, alongside her full-blooded siblings.
"I died at 24 in my previous life. Now, I was 19. And in five years, I would face death once again."
"Hah." A laugh escaped her lips — hollow and resigned. How laughable my misfortune was.
Yet, amidst this cruel fate, there was a flicker of solace.
In this world, she wasn't entirely alone. She had people she cherished. Though she was a mere footnote in the novel, only mentioned during the execution scene, these bonds were her.
Her thoughts scattered as the door creaked open.
Entering the room were her two dearest sisters, accompanied by their personal maids. The servants bowed respectfully, their heads lowered. Her sisters, however, looked directly at her, their faces etched with concern.
In the months Jacinta had been unwell, they were her only constant visitors.
Occasionally, their youngest brother came too, though the Empress kept him under strict watch. He'd only managed to slip away four times.
- Writer
