The blade wavered, and a soft, trembling voice broke through.
"Father... it's me."
The Duke's sharp gaze softened, though only slightly. "Grace?"
Later, in the study…
"So," the Duke began, his voice cold as he looked at Grace. "You disappeared for year's and now return with news of war? How convenient."
Grace met his gaze, unflinching. "And yet you believed me enough to summon the knights, didn't you?"
The Duke's eyes narrowed. "How do you know about the attack? Speak plainly."
Grace took a steadying breath. "You know I went to find Selene. I traveled across the empire and even beyond its borders. I met all kinds of people… but the trail eventually led me east."
She hesitated, her voice trembling. "In the East, I learned they were searching for someone—Princess Erana of Solandris. They say she's a wicked woman, with red hair, who has never appeared at a single social gathering. Rumors abound about her cruelty, but the truth…" She shook her head. "It's worse."
"What truth?"
"I infiltrated the Solandris mansion as a servant. Every original worker there had been killed, replaced after a fire consumed part of the estate. I heard whispers—servants speaking of their terror before they were silenced. But then I overheard something more." She paused, her gray eyes haunted.
"One night, I stumbled into a meeting. Twenty figures, cloaked in darkness. I couldn't see their faces, but I recognized their power—nobles from the most influential families. They spoke of a revelation, of alliances with foreign powers, of starting a war to overthrow the royal family. They said the empire is weak, the people disloyal. And then…" She trailed off, her voice breaking.
"One of the maids was caught listening. A knight slit her throat on the spot. The nobles laughed as if it were nothing. Then a man stepped out—a duke—and ordered them to begin the war. He said…" Her voice dropped. "He said to start with the North. That Astraloyn would fall first."
The Duke leaned back, his expression unreadable. "When did this happen?"
"A week ago. I came here as fast as I could."
"Is she here?" Grace asked suddenly, her voice trembling.
The Duke was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded. "Yes. Selene is here."
"Did you learn anything about how she lived at Solandris?"
"No," Grace admitted. "The original servants were all dead. But why?"
The Duke's jaw tightened. "Because she lost her memories," he said quietly. "And a few days ago, she tried to end her own life. When she woke, she spoke of revenge."
"What?" Grace's voice broke. "She tried to—why?!"
The Duke didn't answer immediately. Instead, he said, "Do you know why I've always supported the Crown Prince?"
Grace frowned. "Because it's your responsibility?"
"No."
"Then… because Mother was Emperor friend?"
The Duke flinched ever so slightly. "No." His voice grew softer. "Because he is the only one who can find Selene. No matter how hard we tried, we couldn't cross the lines that were drawn for us."
"I don't understand."
"You don't need to." The Duke's lips curled into a faint, fleeting smile—a sight Grace hadn't seen since her mother's death. "It's nothing."
Grace stared at him, stunned, as the door burst open.
Moments earlier…
I woke with a start, a heavy weight pressing against my chest, as though the air itself had thickened. My heart was restless, a quiet whisper in the dark warning of something wrong.
I glanced at the clock —3 a.m.
Fumbling with the drawer of the table, I searched for the ring Cealus had given me. My hands came up empty.
'Was it gone? Or had I simply misplaced it, like so many other things in this life?'
Rain tapped against the window, persistent but softer than before. In the distance, I heard it—boots crunching on wet gravel, the sound of knights patrolling the training ground.
"Why are they patrolling… in the middle of the night? And in this rain?" I whispered to myself, unease growing.
Then it came.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The ground seemed to tremble as a steady rhythm of hooves approached. Thousands of them.
My blood ran cold.
'No. No. This isn't how it's supposed to happen. Not here. Not now.'
Throwing off my blanket, I rushed out of the room. Fiona and Clara stood outside, their pale faces illuminated by the flickering candlelight.
"My lady?" Fiona asked, hesitant.
"Did you hear it?" My voice was trembling now.
"Yes, my lady," Clara said, her expression grim.
"Tell all the servants to leave—use the back gate," I said urgently.
But they didn't move. They simply stood there, silent and unmoving, as though my words hadn't reached them.
"Where is the Duke?" I demanded.
Clara finally spoke. "He's in the study, my lady."
Without another word, I ran. My bare feet slapped against the cold stone floor as I made my way to the study, my heart pounding so violently I thought it might burst. Without pausing, I shoved the door open, slamming it against the wall.
The Duke stood immediately, his sharp gaze locking onto mine. "Selene?" His voice was calm but edged with tension.
"War—" I choked out, barely able to breathe. "It wasn't supposed to be here. I… I don't know why. I don't know how… They were supposed to go south!"
I clutched at my chest, trying to steady myself. "Tell all the servants to leave from the back gate, or—" my voice broke, "or everyone is going to die. The whole North… It's going to fall."
I was shaking now, my steps erratic as I paced around the room, biting my fingers in a frantic attempt to focus. My thoughts were spinning, spiraling. "I don't understand! Why here? Why now? This isn't how it's supposed to happen!"
'At that moment, I couldn't fathom why I was acting this way. It wasn't out of care—it wasn't like I ever panicked for anyone before. Perhaps these weren't even my feelings, but Erana's, echoing through me. Or maybe it was the shadow of a past life, where I watched him die, a wound so deep it still bled in silence. I couldn't say.
The Duke watched me silently for a moment before stepping forward, his voice steady as he said, "Selene, we don't have any servants here. Every servant in this estate is a knight—trained and returned from the Royal Academy."
His words struck me like a blow, but before I could process them, he reached out and rested a hand on my head. "But, Selene, you must leave."
"What?" I stammered, barely able to process his calmness. "Wh-where? Where would I even go?"
He gave me a look that was almost too gentle, too kind. "I told you, didn't I? I will always protect you. Leave the North with your sister."
"Sister?" I froze, my head snapping toward the corner of the room. That's when I saw her—a girl standing there silently, her gray eyes filled with sorrow. She looked exactly like the Duke.
My breath hitched. My chest felt tight, suffocating. 'Was this happening because of me? Was it because I meddled with the story, trying to rewrite something I had no right to change?'
"This is my fault," I whispered to no one in particular, my voice trembling with self-loathing. "It's because of me. But I won't run. I can't run. I know who's coming here."
The Duke sighed softly, walking to his desk. He opened a drawer and retrieved a small, leather-bound diary. Turning back to me, he held it out.
"This," he said, his voice quieter now, "is from your mother. I promised I would tell you her story, but it seems I won't have the chance now. Take it. Consider it an early gift for your birthday—it's only a few days away, isn't it?"
I stared at the diary in his hands. Its weight felt unbearable, far heavier than it should've been. My hands trembled as I took it. My thoughts raced—should I tell him the truth? Should I admit that I'm not his daughter, that he's wasting his protection, his care, his life on me?
But the words wouldn't come. They caught in my throat, strangling me.
I thought of Cealus. I had sent him back to the palace, thinking it would keep him safe, thinking I had bought him time. He wasn't supposed to be here when the war started. The war was supposed to begin somewhere else, far from this place. Yet somehow, it had found its way here, to the Duke's estate, to me.
How foolish I had been. How stupid to think I could change the story. How naïve to believe I could rewrite something as cruel as fate.
The Duke's voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. "Selene, you don't need to stay here. You don't need to fight this battle. Leave with Grace."
I stared at him, my chest heavy with guilt and despair. 'He's going to die, isn't he? All because of me. Because I ran. Because I couldn't accept this story as it was.'
I clutched the diary tighter, the leather biting into my palms. The thought clawed at me—if I had just stayed in Solandris, if I had just let myself die there, maybe this wouldn't be happening. Maybe he wouldn't have to die.
I opened my mouth, my voice cracking under the weight of my thoughts. "You don't have to protect me. I'm not… I'm not your daughter. You can just—"
But he cut me off before I could finish. "Grace," he said firmly, his gaze never leaving mine, "take her. Leave."
Grace stepped forward, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She grabbed my arm and whispered, "Father, we must meet again."
The Duke smiled faintly, a bittersweet expression that shattered something inside me.
"No—" I started to protest, but Grace didn't wait. She pulled me toward the door, her grip unrelenting.
As we ran, my thoughts spiraled deeper into the dark. 'Ah, I see. He knew. He knew I wasn't his daughter. But how? Why does he still try to protect me?'
If the Duke dies, she'll never come back. And it will all be my fault.
'Please don't try to protect me again. Please, just let me die.'