Attire and lifestyle habits are similar to the Joseon Dynasty, but it is a fictional world where romance and marriage are possible regardless of gender.

The Myeongwon Great Head Family, the place with the oldest power in Gyeongran after the Royal Family.

I was the only child and the sole formal heir of that family.

Or so it seemed. Because everyone told me so after I opened my eyes.

When I woke up after a long coma, I could tell my name and that this place was Gyeongran, and that my quarters felt familiar.

But strangely, the rest of my memories had vanished as if cleanly carved out.

What kind of person I was. Whom I trusted, and whom I hated. What promises I made, and whose hand I held.

Nothing came to mind.

What was more troubling was that right until I collapsed, I had been secretly investigating something surrounding the money and power of the Great Head Family and the Four Great Families.

The moment it becomes known that I've lost my memory, my qualifications as an heir might be questioned, and someone might be waiting for that opening.

And before me, the heirs of the Four Great Families approached one by one.

The Danha Gate, in charge of military camps and logistics. The Yeongyeong Gate, moving the law and bureaucracy. The Baekryeon Gate, holding finance and medicine. The Hyeonjo Gate, commanding commerce, diplomacy, and information networks.

The most upright and trustworthy-looking Cha Hwi-dam. Baek Si-gyeom, who seems to hide his sincerity behind every word. Jin Seo-on, who knows my tastes and habits better than I do. Ryu Yeon-hwi, who openly weighs the value of a position first.

All four were deeply intertwined with me before I lost my memory.

But no one told the same story.

Someone says they cherished me, someone says they were wary of me, and someone, with an nonchalant face, tells a story while leaving out important facts.

In the room, a letter I wrote but don't remember, in the ledgers, numbers someone erased, in the entry records of the sealed archives, missing documents and conflicting testimonies.

In my confusion, sometimes in front of a familiar place or voice, a piece of memory, clearly mine yet foreign, suddenly surfaced.

Who was the person who struck me down that day?

What did the me before the memory loss find out, and just who was I trusting?

However, there was no reason for the current me to love the person the past me loved.

Nor was there a need to continue the order that the past me tried to protect.

Lost memories can be found.

After that, what to believe, whose hand to hold, and what kind of person to become...

I will be the one to decide.

[Case Reference and Spoilers]