It has been almost six months since I returned. The fear I once held has gradually faded away. My life has settled into a routine. I've been attending successor classes with Excalibur, and I'm even outshining him because I learn quickly.
It's already midnight, but sleep evades me.
I lie down on my bed, attempting to sleep, but...
"Bernice."
"Open your eyes!"
"Can you hear me, Bernice?"
"Bernice!"
I can't see the face. I can only hear the voice, as if someone is calling out to me, crying in desperation.
"Do something! Do whatever it takes to save her! I don't want excuses. I demand results!"
The pained voice transforms into anger, yelling, pushing, but I don't recognize who it is. It's a man, for sure.
****
"Lady."
"Open your eyes!"
The nanny's voice brings me back. I manage to open my eyes, struggling for breath, feeling like the air is choking me.
"Lady, drink this. Breathe normally!" Nanny rubs my back.
I gulp down the glass of water in a hurry, spilling half of it on my dress in the process, leaving me soaked.
"Are you feeling better, Lady?" Nanny inquires, still patting my back.
"Are these dreams continuing?" she questions.
Yes, for the past six months, the same voice has haunted my dreams. Not just the voice, sometimes the nightmare I experienced that night replays itself, becoming more vivid each time.
"Yes, Nanny, they persist," I reply, gazing out of the window.
It's been barely an hour and a half since I attempted to sleep, and already, the dreams have returned. They can hardly be called dreams; they're terrifying nightmares that refuse to let me be.
How long has it been since I had proper sleep? A month? Two? Maybe even longer?
"Lady, I think it's time you spoke to Marquis about this." Nanny's suggestion is constant, but...
"It's time he knows," she adds.
Does he need to be involved? I'm uncertain.
"Alright, I'll go see Father now," I decide. Nanny doesn't stop me; she drapes a thick shawl over me, given that I rarely wear anything warm.
I make my way to my father's room. It's late, but I knock on his door.
"Who's there?" he calls out.
"It's me, Father." As I speak, he hurries to open the door.
I can see the panic in his eyes, sweat glistening on his forehead, yet he doesn't look like he was sleeping at all.
"May I come in?" I ask.
"Yes, come in!" he responds, closing the door behind me.
"Sit down, let me light up the fireplace. It's so cold in this room," he offers. Indeed, this room feels colder than mine, despite the enclosed walls and lack of windows.
"Father, why don't you change rooms? Don't you feel unwell here? Doesn't it feel suffocating?" I inquire, my eyes wandering around the room.
"It's fine."
"But tell me, why did you come here so late?" he finally asks, taking a seat across from me.
I hesitate.
"It's been months since I've slept properly," I admit.
"Months?" he echoes.
"Yes, months. I can't sleep at night. As I drift off, those nightmares return. I feel suffocated, like someone's gripping my neck, like someone's crying in my dreams. Someone's slashing at me with a sharp sword."
I pause, unsure how to continue.
I'm certain some of these dreams are connected to my past life, but others, I have no clue.
"How long has this been happening?" he asks, his tone calm.
"Maybe five or six months?" I reply, but it's actually been six.
He remains silent for a moment. I, too, lack the courage to meet his gaze. Suddenly, a gentle warmth touches my shoulder, as if...
"Father, is it Mother?" My doubts resurface, and my heart aches.
Is this why Father has never left this room all these years?
I finally look up, my father appearing somewhat fearful. Is it due to my mention of the dream?
"Father?" I prompt, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Yes? Did you say something?" he asks. I realize he didn't understand my reference to Mother.
"No, but I thought I should let you know about this," I say, ready to leave.
"Bernice, let's visit the Imperial doctor," he suggests.
The doctor? For what?
"I don't need that," I protest.
"No, Bernice. It's important. It's more serious than it seems. Let's go."
But I know it's not about the doctor; he's taking me to the temple. I can read it in his eyes. I don't have a problem with that, but I don't want to feel that pain again. I don't want to confront it by going there. That's why I haven't stepped out since my return.
"Alright, Father," I agree.
He smiles.
"And please say hello to Mother." I add, and his expression shifts.
He must be wondering how I'm aware. But how can I admit that I miss her despite the lie I've maintained about her to escape reality?
I walked towards my room, but this corridor now serves as a reminder of how I died. It was also a dark place back then. However, now it's populated with people. Guards are stationed everywhere. But on that fateful night, there was no one with me. Not a single maid was present to defend against those killers, their faces concealed by masks, which were even visible in the darkness. Their lethal intent echoed in their voices, creating a torrent of bloodlust that included mine.
"Let's not meet each other. Let's avoid crossing paths. Let's not lock eyes, or it will only serve to dredge up those painful memories you've bestowed upon me. How you abandoned me when I needed you most. Or is it that you took my life for something I never, ever did?"
"Let us not cross paths, Husband."
"I don't want to shed my own blood again. Nor do I want to be stained with the blood of others, or yours," I groaned in anger and left the place. Once again, I realized that tonight, I wouldn't be able to fall asleep as I was once again reminded of something I shouldn't.