The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, spilling into the room. Alia woke from a night of heightened vigilance, her mind still occupied by the events of the previous night. She slowly sat up in bed, massaging her temples as she took a deep breath. The discovery she had made only heightened her sense of danger—whoever the man connected to her mentor was, he had come with a purpose. She was almost certain that purpose was the Holy Grail.
"If he dared to come once, he might come again. I can't let this happen again," Alia muttered, her gaze steeling with resolve.
She quickly washed up, got dressed, and, under the pretense of having nightmares, summoned the estate's head of security. For a young noblewoman to request additional security wasn't unusual, but the level of detail in her instructions was surprisingly professional.
In the grand hall, Alia pointed to a map of the estate as she outlined her directives:
"These areas, especially the balcony on the north side of the study and the passage to the basement, need double the patrols. Thieves are most adept at exploiting weak spots, particularly these often-overlooked corners. Randomize patrol routes as well; don't let anyone figure out a predictable pattern."
Her tone was confident and commanding, prompting the head guard to raise a curious eyebrow. "Miss, how do you know these details?"
Alia offered a faint smile, her eyes sharp. "Call it fear. Last night, I dreamt of someone sneaking into the castle through these places to steal something. I woke up several times from fright. Looking at it now, these areas really do seem under-guarded. Maybe I'm just overthinking it, but it's always better to be safe than sorry, isn't it?"
The guards nodded in agreement, not questioning their mistress's suggestions. After all, Alia was a person of high standing in Marcellus's household, and her orders deserved their utmost effort.
She went on to propose alternative patrol routes and identified blind spots in the guard shifts, instructing additional coverage during these times. She also placed a few covert operatives disguised as ordinary servants at strategic points to monitor for any unusual activity.
Once her instructions were delivered, the guards promptly began their duties. Alia stood before the map, watching them leave, her expression calm yet shadowed with a quiet intensity.
"A dream? I wish it were only a dream," she murmured, her gaze drifting across the key locations marked on the map.
Alia was well-versed in a thief's habits—she had once been one of them in the past life. Her mentor, Eryx, was a master of the craft, capable of pulling off near-impossible heists. If he had managed to infiltrate the castle last night, the next move would likely exploit the same weak points.
But how Eryx had entered the castle remained a mystery. If it was purely a matter of skill, she could handle it. However, if he had an accomplice on the inside, the danger would escalate significantly.
That was why, even as she reinforced security at the balcony and basement passages, she knew that Eryx's expertise and habits would allow him to bypass these efforts, and he will. If Eryx had a mole within the castle, they would likely pass along the updated security details. Any deviation from expected patterns would confirm her suspicion of a traitor in their midst.
"Master, everything you taught me, I'll use against you. Whether this Eryx is you or one of your underlings, I won't hold back," she thought resolutely, her eyes flashing with determination.
Despite the appearance of control, Alia felt far from reassured. If the man from last night truly was connected to her mentor—or worse, her mentor himself—the measures she had taken might not be enough to stop him.
"He's no longer my master," she whispered, her fists clenching tightly. "In this life, we stand on opposite sides. His goal is the Holy Grail, and so is mine."
Days passed uneventfully, with no sign of Marcellus returning to the estate. Occasionally, he would call, his voice steady and composed as always. "Livia, I'm still swamped with the city's redevelopment plans. It will take me a few more days before I can return," he said apologetically.
His deep, calm voice carried a hint of regret, yet also conveyed the unyielding focus of a man burdened with responsibility. Holding the receiver, Alia responded softly, "I understand. The city's affairs are important; take your time."
After hanging up, she sat by the window in her room, gazing at the castle gardens in the distance, lost in thought. Since the ball, her feelings toward Marcellus had undergone a subtle yet undeniable shift.
Initially, Alia's attitude toward Marcellus had been one of pretense and guardedness, tinged with hatred and fear. Yet, over time, she found her gaze involuntarily following him. His expressions during the ball, his every gesture—they seemed to etch themselves into her memory.
"Perhaps it's the remnants of this body's memories influencing me. Maybe they really did love each other," she murmured, attempting to rationalize her emotions. But deep down, she couldn't deny that this feeling was growing—a ripple spreading through her heart, faint yet persistent.
In his absence, her emotions only seemed to intensify. Their brief phone conversations, initially simple exchanges of pleasantries, began to bring her an unexpected sense of comfort and anticipation. Every time she heard Marcellus's voice, his familiar baritone seemed to ease some of her fatigue and loneliness.
"What's happening to me?" Alia wondered aloud, touching her warm cheek with her fingertips, the faint heat leaving her at a loss.
She knew all too well that these budding emotions were both an opportunity and a risk. As someone living under a guise, her mission was to protect herself and conceal her secrets—not to lose herself in feelings. Yet, no matter how she tried to suppress them, the stirrings of her heart grew stronger with each day of Marcellus's absence.
"In any case, I need to uncover the reason Marcellus killed Livia," Alia sighed deeply.