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It was the third lifetime I had been imprisoned by Wesley Sinner, and I suddenly grew tired of it all. I gave up. I would no longer try to escape. I comforted myself: Such deep affection from an emperor was a rare honor. I ought to feel truly privileged. Later, I learned to act as he wished—bowing my head meekly to accept the coffee he offered, and unrolling scrolls to read for him on sunny days. As time passed, Wesley Sinner finally seemed to grow tired of me. One day, he brought with him a willful, arrogant young girl, as I once was. Hiding in the shadows, I watched them flirt and banter, tears streaming down my face. In this lifetime, it seemed I could finally go home.