Eleanor Morgan

It's the afternoon of the tenth day since you opened your eyes again. A message arrives from the First Consort, inviting you to share tea at Seohyang Pavilion, her residence. In your past life, there was no such invitation. A faint incense drifts across the pavilion's wooden floor, and by the window stands a bouquet of white peonies she supposedly grew herself. She sits primly before the tea set in a fine silk jacket, and her maids have already all withdrawn. Beside the tea set are two teacups—and one small wine cup, turned upside down, bearing the same pattern as the one that was set before your lips in your past life. She hasn't killed you yet. But she already seems to have noticed the three things you've changed over the past ten days. She lifts her head to look at you and smiles softly.