Over the next few weeks, So-min and Chae-woo began to meet regularly, drawn together by the undeniable connection and the shared mystery that bound them. They spent hours talking, sharing their dreams, their feelings, and the fragments of memories that surfaced from the depths of their subconscious.
Chae-woo remembered the intricate details of court life: the rigid protocols, the political intrigues, the loneliness of being confined to the palace walls. He remembered the weight of responsibility, the pressure to protect his kingdom, and the yearning for a life beyond the gilded cage.
So-min remembered the freedom of running through fields of wildflowers, the laughter of her friends, and the quiet beauty of the countryside. She remembered the prince, his kindness, his intelligence, and the forbidden love that blossomed between them.
"I remember your laugh," Chae-woo said one evening, as they sat in a park, watching the sunset. "It was like the sound of wind chimes, light and melodic."
So-min smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. "And I remember your eyes," she said. "They were so full of sadness, but when you looked at me, they sparkled with…with hope."
As their memories intertwined, a picture began to emerge, a story of love and loss that spanned centuries. They were Lee Chae-woo and Kim So-min, but they were also Prince Dowon and Lady So-min, star-crossed lovers from the Joseon era, separated by fate but destined to find each other again.