Morning arrived with the rain.
I stood before my bedroom window, watching the droplets trail down the glass. A leaden, grey sky hung low over Varen Castle, making the stone towers appear even older and more weary than they already were.
I hadn't slept a wink. Again.
But this time, it wasn't the voices in my head that kept me awake. It was my own mind, refusing to go quiet.
Seven hundred gold coins. Two weeks. A Marquis who coveted my castle—and perhaps, my body.
I wasn't afraid. Curiously, I felt no fear. What I felt was... anticipation. Like a chess piece recently placed upon the board, waiting for the first move.
Who am I, truly?
A knock came at the door.
"Enter."
The Head Butler appeared. His aged face was still pale, but there was something different about him this morning. He carried a tray with tea and bread.
"My Lady did not eat last night," he said softly. "At the very least... please drink the tea."
I turned, my gaze locking onto his. "How long have you served the Varen family?"
He seemed startled by the question. "Since... since Count Varen was a young man, My Lady. More than thirty years."
"Then you know much about the Count. And about Marquis Vellon."
His hands began to tremble again. The tray rattled slightly. "My Lady... Marquis Vellon is a dangerous man."
"I did not ask if he was dangerous." I stepped closer, taking the teacup from the tray. It was warm. "I asked what you know about him."
The butler swallowed hard, his eyes darting restlessly. "I... I am merely a servant, My Lady. I do not know much of noble affairs."
"You know more than you think." I took a sip of the tea. It was bitter. "Servants always know. You hear the conversations behind closed doors. You see who comes and goes. You clean the stains that no one else wishes to see."
He remained silent.
"Marquis Vellon," I prompted. "Sera mentioned he owes a debt of gratitude to someone. Do you know who?"
The butler shook his head quickly. Too quickly. "N-no, My Lady. I do not know."
I recognized a lie when I saw one.
But I didn't press him. Not yet. He was terrified. If I pushed too hard now, he would only retreat further into his shell.
"Very well." I placed the cup back on the tray. "If you remember anything, let me know."
He bowed and hurried out, his back more hunched than usual.
I stared at the closed door. He knew something. But was he afraid of the Marquis? Or something else?
I spent the morning patrolling the castle.
Not to reminisce—I had no memories to cherish—but to map. Every corridor. Every door. Every window. Every corner that could serve as a hiding place or an escape route.
Varen Castle was larger than I had anticipated. Three floors. Four towers. A vast catacomb. A kitchen, an armory, a library, the Count's study, and dozens of rooms that were mostly empty and layered in dust.
It was too large for six children and a widow. Too large to defend with such meager resources.
But also... too strategic to simply surrender.
As I passed the library—a cramped room with decaying bookshelves—I saw Vina inside. She sat by the window, a book open on her lap. But her eyes weren't on the pages; they were fixed on the rain outside.
I entered.
"Vina."
She startled. "M—Mother." She closed her book hurriedly. "I didn't hear you come in."
I sat in the chair opposite her. "What are you reading?"
She hesitated, then showed me the cover. History of the Varen Family.
"I wanted to know more," she said softly. "About this family. About... Father."
I looked at the book. "You don't need my permission to read."
"It's not that..." She paused, looking down at her hands. "I just... I feel like I don't know enough. About Father. About my biological mother. About everything." Her eyes met mine. "Do you remember anything? About Father? About us?"
The same question. And my answer remained the same.
"No."
Vina nodded slowly, accepting it. But there was something in her eyes—not disappointment, but resolve.
"I'll help you," she said suddenly. "I'll look for information about the Marquis. I'm... I'm not as brave as Kael or as smart as Reno. But I can read. I can listen. Nobles often ignore girls like me."
I watched her. Her blonde hair, her gentle grey eyes. She was right. A girl like Vina wouldn't be perceived as a threat by the nobility. That was exactly her strength.
"Very well," I said. "Start with this library. Look for anything regarding Marquis Vellon. Old letters. Financial records. Anything."
Vina nodded, this time with a spark of enthusiasm I hadn't seen before. "I'll start right now."
I rose to leave, but her voice called out to me again.
"Mother."
I stopped.
"I'm glad you don't remember."
I turned. "What?"
Vina looked at me, her eyes glistening. Yet, she smiled. "The old Mother... she was kind. Gentle. But she was also sad. Every single day. As if something was eating her from the inside." She wiped her eyes. "The current you... you are stronger. I don't know why. But I'm glad. Because maybe... maybe the current you can save us."
I didn't know how to respond. So, I simply nodded and walked out.
The old me was sad. Every day.
What had made me so miserable? What had I been hiding?
In the afternoon, I found Reno in the armory.
The room was small and dusty. Racks on the walls held old swords, rusted shields, and suits of armor that hadn't been worn in decades. Reno stood in the center of the room, holding a short sword. He wasn't practicing; he was simply... holding it.
"Looking for something?" I asked.
He turned, his gaze as flat as ever. "Just looking around."
I entered, my eyes sweeping the room. Swords. Spears. Bows. All old. All neglected.
"Do you know how to use it?" I asked.
Reno shrugged. "A little. Father taught me the basics, but he was never serious about it."
I walked to a rack and picked up a short sword similar to the one Reno held. Its weight felt right in my hand. Too right. As if... I had held something like this many times before.
But where? When?
"We won't fight the Marquis with swords," I said, more to myself. "But it doesn't hurt to be prepared."
Reno watched me. "Do you know how to use one?"
I didn't answer. I swung the sword gently. The movement wasn't perfect—my hands were small, my muscles untrained. But for some reason... I knew the exact angles. I knew the most efficient way to cut. I knew where the weak points of the human body were.
How did I know all of this?
"You're strange," Reno said suddenly.
I turned. "What?"
"Strange." He placed his sword back on the rack. "The old Mother would never have set foot in an armory. She couldn't even stand the sight of a blade." He locked eyes with me. "Who are you, really?"
That question again. But coming from Reno's cold, flat voice, it felt sharper.
"I don't know," I answered honestly.
Reno stared at me for a long time, then nodded. "At least you're honest."
He walked toward the exit, but paused at the threshold.
"I'll find out," he said without turning back. "Who you really are. I won't stop until I do."
Then he was gone.
I stood alone in the armory, the sword still in my hand. Cold. Solid. Familiar.
I want to know too, Reno. I want to know too.
That night, I returned to my room. The Count's diary was still on the table. I sat on the edge of the bed and opened it once more.
The second page. The fading handwriting.
I saw her again last night. The woman from the East. Her hair blue like the sea. Her eyes harboring a storm. She will come. And when she does... I must be ready. She is the key. She is the answer. She is—
Truncated.
I flipped through the subsequent blank pages. Nothing. Only yellowing, empty parchment.
But this time... I noticed something.
On the very last page. Not writing, but a small symbol. Almost invisible, etched with very thin ink.
A circle. Inside it, an eye. And beneath the eye, a word in a language I didn't recognize.
I touched it with the tip of my finger.
In the corner of my vision, the blue screen appeared.
[ SOUL GUIDE SYSTEM – SLEEP MODE ]
[ Data Recovery: 7% ]
[ Symbol Detected: "The Eternal Eye". ]
[ Translation: A secret organization operating throughout the kingdom. Members unknown. Objectives unknown. ]
[ Warning: This symbol is linked to data from your previous life. ]
[ Query: Continue recovery? ]
My heart hammered against my ribs.
A secret organization. Linked to my previous life.
My life as... who?
I stared at the screen for a long time. This time... I wanted to press "Yes." I wanted to know. I needed to know.
But something held me back.
Not yet.
I wasn't ready. This family wasn't safe. The Marquis was still out there. If I opened this Pandora's box now, I might never be able to close it again.
"Later," I whispered. "I promise... later."
The screen vanished.
I closed the diary and tucked it back under my pillow. Then I lay down, staring at the dusty wooden ceiling.
The Eternal Eye.
What was your connection to me, Count?
And why did you choose me?