BEHIND THE MASK / Episode 3- the rebirth
1712 Words
*Yuri opened her eyes to see that she was reborn on the wedding day, she tried to cut the wedding off, not knowing that Zayne was reborn too, eventually, they had to get married*
After the wedding, the wedding night!
*Yuri lay down on the bed, still wearing the wedding gown, deep in thought when suddenly, Zayne comes in, drunk as hell, she was startled, she asked, "Did you.. drink?", he replied, "maybe I did, maybe I didn't, why? care about me or what?", he smirked, that grin that made her fall for him in the last life, her eyes went cold, " who did you cheat on me with" , she asked coldly, he was drunk but he was shocked, he thought, "she wasn't like this before..is she reborn too?", he quickly snapped out of it, he replied, " there's only you, my lady, he stumbled to her, sitting close to her, way close, he touches her ankle, "let me take care of you, my lady..please" she was shocked..he didn't act like this in the past life.."wha- what do you mean by..taking care?" she asked nervously, he replied sleepily, " I'm not going to force you my lady..just give me permission and I'll not leave you unsatisfied". *she scrambled, "i- i- um..i-" he cut her off "he caressed her cheek gently, maybe even tenderly, " it's fine..I'm not forcing you to do it with me, my lady..but..can I kiss you? please?" *he pleaded* *she looked at him coldly, suddenly remembering what he did in her past life* "why should i?" *he was startled, "it's okay if you don't want to..I'll not force you, my lady", she was shocked by his gentleness, " fine, a kiss is okay, nothing more, okay?" she said nervously *he looked at her with affection, "ofc, my lady" *she was going to speak but got interrupted as he leaned in closer, like asking for permission, she nodded shyly, trying not to show her shy side but failing miserably, then, he kissed her, first it was just a peck on the lips, but slowly, it turned into small kisses, until he passed out cold, from the drinks he had, she laughed and tucked him in, "you are different now..good different but I'm not accepting you this soon..good night..my cold hubby turned hot"
*she changed to her pj's and went to sleep, snoring softly*
TOMORROW
*Yuri's eyes fluttered from the bright sunlight shining through her window, as she woke up, someone knocked softly, "come in" she said, then, she saw Zayne, stayed home and didn't go to work, he had an apron on, his hand was full with a yeah of breakfast, she was confused, "morning?", he replied with a bright smile, "good morning, my lady I made you breakfast in bed", she looked at him coldly, continuing the cold facade, "you're different..and I know you're reborn too,jelly bean", he froze, only she had called him that..not even in this life, she used to call him back in their past life, he spoke softly, " you're smart, aren't you?", *I looked at him coldly, my eyes piercing through his, "I'm not gonna fall for you in this life..never..never again", his hope shattered and his smile faltered, "..baby- I..i mean..my lady..", she spoke coldly, " don't expect me to love you, don't expect me to ever love you! you broke my heart in the last life, in this one? lets stay away from each other..", *he looked down, silent for the first time, "I'll give you space, my lady..but I'm not going to let go of you..never in this life..I'll give you space now.." *then, he left, after he left, she felt..alone? maybe but she had to let go of him..she had to.. right?..right?, she slumped back to bed, overthinking again, "what if he's serious this time? but I should hate him..what if he has more than 1 wife..like my dad" she thought, still laying on bed, Zayne left for his Royal duties but his mind stuck on her, her coldness, her hurtful eyes, he realizes he really hurt her in the past life, and he promised himself, I'll treat her right..even if it takes a hundred years to finally make her happy..
TOMORROW
The sun had already risen high by the time Yuri finally stirred. The breakfast tray sat untouched beside her, the tea gone cold, the scent of honey and vanilla fading. The sheets still carried a trace of Zayne’s cologne — lavender and smoke. She pulled the blanket closer, half wanting the scent to vanish, half terrified that it might.
From the window she could see the royal courtyard, bright and alive. Servants hurried with garlands, guards shifted their spears, the world kept turning as though her chest weren’t a battlefield.
“Get a grip,” she whispered. “You can’t love a ghost.”
But the memory of last night refused to fade — his shy smile, the drunken plea for permission, the kiss that began as a peck and turned into something that felt like a promise. The warmth of his breath on her lips, the way he’d whispered her name before sleep claimed him.
Now the bed was empty. The silence was worse than any heartbreak.
---
When Zayne came back that evening, he looked exhausted — his royal uniform wrinkled, his crown missing. He found Yuri in the rose garden pretending to read.
“Yuri,” he greeted softly.
She didn’t glance up. “Your Highness.”
The formality struck him like a slap. “Still so proper?”
“I wouldn’t want rumors,” she murmured.
“Comfort isn’t a sin.”
“No,” she said, closing the book, “but trusting you was.”
He flinched, guilt heavy in his eyes. “I deserve that. But I’m not him anymore.”
She looked up then, her gaze sharp and hurting. “And what if I’m still her? The fool who loved you anyway?”
The words sliced through the quiet. Before he could speak, she rose. “Dinner will be served soon. Excuse me.”
---
That night Zayne couldn’t sleep. The ghosts of their first lives followed him everywhere — the balcony, her blood, his own final breath. Fate had handed them back their lives, but not their peace.
He walked through the silent corridors until he reached her door. He almost turned away, until he heard the faintest sob.
He opened it slowly.
Yuri sat by the window, tears shining in the moonlight. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard you crying.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know.”
He took one step closer. “Do you hate me?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
“You should. But part of me hopes you don’t.”
Her jaw trembled. “Why are you trying so hard to fix what’s already dead?”
“Because I died with you,” he said simply. “And if I ever got another chance, I swore I’d never let you cry because of me again.”
Her defenses faltered. “You can’t undo the past.”
“No,” he whispered, brushing a tear from her cheek, “but maybe we can rewrite the ending.”
Her breath hitched. “Don’t touch me.”
He dropped his hand instantly. “Then I’ll stay right here.”
He sat on the floor beside her bed until she fell asleep, whispering apologies into the dark.
---
When she woke the next morning, he was gone. In his place lay a folded note:
> “I’ve been called to the southern borders. I’ll return before the first snow.
Please eat properly.
— Zayne.”
Her fingers traced his name until it blurred. “Why do I still care?”
The balcony wind carried the scent of winter, and with it the memory of their deaths. She wondered if fate was cruel for bringing them back or kind for giving them the chance to hurt again.
---
Weeks passed. Letters began to arrive.
> “Training is going well.”
“A merchant painted someone who looked like you.”
“The nights are colder here. I hope you sleep warm.”
At first she ignored them. Then she reread them. Then she waited for them.
When the letters stopped for five days, her heartbeat wouldn’t settle.
“Prepare the royal carriage,” she told her maid. “We’re going to the southern border.”
---
The journey was long, and snow fell in lazy spirals by the time she reached the camp. Soldiers stared, startled to see their queen. She searched until she found Zayne near a tent, sword in hand, dirt on his cheek.
He turned, eyes widening. “Yuri?”
She glared. “Five days. Not one letter.”
He stammered, “I— there were attacks—”
“Next time,” she snapped, “at least send a pigeon. I thought…” Her voice cracked. “I thought you were dead again.”
He froze. “You were worried.”
She looked away. “Of course not. I just didn’t want gossip.”
He smiled, small and sad. “You’re terrible at lying, my lady.”
She shoved his shoulder. “You look awful.”
“I’ll rest,” he said, “if you stay.”
She frowned. “Stay?”
“Just for tonight. You can go back to hating me tomorrow.”
Her lips twitched. “Fine. But only tonight.”
---
That evening they sat beneath a sky heavy with stars, sharing silence instead of blame. When the wind grew colder, he offered his cloak.
“You still don’t trust me,” he said.
“No,” she admitted. “But I think you mean it this time.”
He smiled. “That’s enough.”
She studied him — the tired eyes, the gentle hands. Something in her chest loosened. Maybe this was what forgiveness looked like: not forgetting, just breathing without the ache.
Snow began to fall, soft and endless.
For once, they didn’t need words. They simply watched the night together — two souls who had died in love and were learning, clumsily, to live in it.
TO BE CONTINUED
- Writer
