-Part (1)- Memories
-The Library Accident-
"Big brother, wake up! Big brother, wake up!" said Jonan Westrian's little sister. "We're going to be late for the princess's banquet! At this rate, Father will be angry with you!".
"I'm awake, I'm awake, Luna. Calm down, there's still time," Jonan said to his sister.
What are you talking about? We're leaving right now! Get up quickly before Father finds out you're not ready. You don't want to sleep in the dungeon again, do you?!" Luna looked desperate as she tried to hurry her older brother out of bed, She didn't want to see him suffer in the dungeon again.
Jonan gently patted Luna's head and said, "I'm getting up, don't worry. Wait for me with Father—I'll be there in a moment, okay…?"
Luna nodded and left the room.
Alright, I need to hurry. Just like Luna said, I have no interest in going back to the dungeon, Jonan thought to himself as he quickly got ready.
As Jonan finished getting ready and arrived at the carriage waiting just for him, his father turned to him.
"Jonan, you're late. Why is that? Do you want to sleep in the dungeon again? Was the last time not enough for you?! Huh, Jonan?!"
A cold shiver ran through Jonan's body, creeping between his bones and down his spine as he recalled the last time his father had locked him in the dungeon beneath their estate.
4 years earlier…
"Jonan, what are you doing here?" asked Greyfield, the head servant. "You're not supposed to be here! The Duke specifically told you to stay in your room until further notice!"
Jonan replied with a smirk, "My father says a lot of things—that doesn't mean I have to listen. And it's not like I'm doing anything extreme, I just came to read some books, that's all."
He then looked up at Greyfield with puppy-dog eyes and asked, "So… what are you going to tell him?"
Greyfield let out a sigh. "Just don't get caught, my lord, or I'll be in trouble too."
"Don't worry," Jonan said confidently. "He'll never find out."
A few hours later, night had already fallen, and Jonan was still engrossed in his reading—especially in a book about the world before the apocalypse.
Suddenly, as he flipped a page, he heard someone else in the library.
Who could that be? he wondered.
Father? No… it can't be. He should be in bed at this hour.Mother? No way—she hates books.Luna? Definitely not, she fell asleep in the afternoon.
Maybe it's just one of the servants…?
Curious but cautious, Jonan decided to take a peek in the direction of the sound.
But what Jonan saw was nothing like what he had expected.
Two older men stood in the library—dressed in black. At their feet lay the lifeless body of a maid, her throat slit cleanly. It looked like they had killed her in an instant.
Jonan's breath caught in his throat. Panic surged through him, and in his shock, he stumbled back, letting out a small sound—just enough to give himself away.
The two men snapped their heads toward him. Without hesitation, they began moving in his direction.
I have to run! I have to run! They're going to kill me!
His thoughts spiraled into chaos. Damn it, damn it! Why is this happening to me?! I just wanted to read some books! And the maid… that's Zilin… she's dead…
What am I supposed to do?
I'm going to die…
Jonan's body froze in place. He couldn't move. His mind screamed at him to run, but his limbs refused to obey. All he could do was stand there, paralyzed, listening to the men's footsteps growing closer and closer. He wanted to scream, to call for help—but no sound escaped his lips.
And then—
Jonan's mother emerged from behind the bookshelves. She shouted at the two men in black, her voice laced with confidence.
"I'm right here! Come and catch me if you can. You won't find a woman as beautiful as me anywhere else."
As Jonan watched, he realized she was deliberately distracting the intruders. At the same time, she subtly gestured for him to hide.
But Jonan couldn't move. All he could do was listen.
One of the intruders chuckled darkly. "Tell me… are we allowed to use the merchandise? She's definitely not a virgin, after all. What do you say?"
The second intruder chuckled. "You're right… but first, go grab the boy. I'll handle her."
"Hurry up—we don't want to wake the guards."
When Jonan's mother realized her plan had failed, she sprang into action. She charged toward Jonan, shoving the intruder in her way aside.
Scooping her son into her arms, she sprinted through the library's aisles, her heart pounding as she searched for a safe hiding spot.
At least he'll be safe, she thought, relieved that the library was so vast.
She knelt beside Jonan, gently stroking his cheek and placing a soft kiss on his forehead.
"Don't come out, no matter what happens. And don't make a sound, okay, my sweet boy?" she whispered.
Jonan nodded silently, his wide eyes locked onto hers.
The intruders finally cornered her.
"You've got nowhere left to run, woman," one of them sneered. "I was going to wait, but it seems like you're begging to be punished."
Jonan's mother spun around, trying to dash toward the other side of the aisle—only to crash straight into the second intruder. His hands clamped onto her, muffling her scream as he dragged her back.
"Well, well," he chuckled, pulling her toward the center of the library. "Let's see what we've got here."
In one swift motion, he tore at her clothing.
She struggled, thrashed—fought with everything she had—but she was no warrior. They were stronger.
Time lost meaning. The minutes stretched into an eternity as pain coursed through her body.
When will this end? she thought, biting down on her lip to keep from crying out. I can't take it anymore. It hurts. It hurts so much.
But she wouldn't scream. She couldn't scream.
Jonan must not see this. He must not hear this.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Then—
The library doors slammed open.
The intruders barely had time to react before a shadow lunged toward them.
It was the Duke.
Still dressed in his nightclothes, his expression was carved from pure fury.
Before either man could react, his fist crashed into the first intruder's face, sending him sprawling onto the floor. In the same breath, he delivered a brutal kick to the other's stomach, knocking the air from his lungs.
The Duke moved too fast, too violently. The intruders weren't prepared for this.
Desperate, one of them grabbed Jonan's mother, yanking her upright and pressing a blade against her throat.
"One more step, and your wife dies, Duke," the man taunted, his voice laced with arrogance.
The room fell into a suffocating silence.
The Duke froze in place, his muscles tense, his fists clenched at his sides. His face burned with fury, veins bulging from his forehead.
"How dare you lay a hand on my wife?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
And yet, he didn't move. Not yet.
The intruder holding Jonan's mother smirked, emboldened by the Duke's restraint.
"Hey," he called out to his accomplice, who was slowly getting back on his feet. "Finish him off."
At that moment, just as the second intruder brought his blade toward the Duke's throat, the Duke moved.
Faster than the eye could follow, he caught the knife mere inches before it could slice his skin. With a swift, deadly motion, he wrenched it from the attacker's grasp and hurled it across the room.
The blade struck true.
It buried itself deep between the first intruder's eyes, his body collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
But—
A wet, sickening sound filled the air.
The second intruder had already acted.
Jonan's mother gasped as the cold steel of his dagger slid across her throat.
Her hands flew to her neck, crimson spilling between her trembling fingers. She staggered, her wide, disbelieving eyes locking onto the Duke's.
And then—she fell.