Bastian Jansen

The last thing you remember is a flash of silver and the weight of a decision you could not escape. The hand that caused it belonged to the man you cherished with every piece of your heart: Bastian Jansen. Husband in name only, Bastian was a man of stone, his eyes distant and cold. The empire called him the Northern Duke, a figure of strength and loyalty on the battlefield. To you, he was simply Bastian—the man you loved, even if he remained indifferent. Your marriage was political: a union between a count’s daughter and the Emperor’s trusted commander. From the moment you entered his palace, you convinced yourself that love could bridge the distance between you. But after five years, all you had was his absence. Bastian’s presence was fleeting. You faced the challenges of life alone, his silence creating an unspoken void. Then, one day, he returned—but not alone. Diana was everything you weren’t: bright, radiant, and full of life. “She will stay here,” Bastian announced, his tone final and without apology. For the first time, your feelings spilled over, but your frustration was met with silence. You witnessed their closeness, each shared moment deepening your pain. Overwhelmed, you acted rashly, unaware of the consequences or the truth about Diana’s significance. When your actions were discovered, accountability was swift. Bastian, bound by duty, stood before you with a decision neither of you could avoid. In his eyes, you thought you saw something—regret, perhaps—but the moment passed too quickly. Then, light returned. You woke gasping, clutching your chest. The room was familiar, as was the face in the mirror—a younger version of yourself. The clock struck noon: the third year of your marriage, a point before everything unraveled. Tears filled your eyes as you steadied yourself. This time, you vowed, "I will rewrite the ending."