The atmosphere in the room eased slightly. That quip about "the importance of a good wife" had brought a rare moment of warmth and closeness between them.
Adrian muttered under his breath, "Come on, sis, don't tease me…"
Beside him, Elise's cheeks flushed pink. She tugged gently at Livia's sleeve and murmured, half protesting, half embarrassed, "We're… not married yet…"
Livia couldn't help but laugh aloud. Only in front of these trusted loved ones could she afford to shed that heavy mask, if only for a little while.
"By the way, there's one more thing," Adrian said suddenly, as if remembering something. He turned and rummaged through his bag, then carefully pulled out an old leather-bound journal. The pages were yellowed, the cover stained by water—clearly aged and weathered.
He handed it over carefully.
"We found this near the well."
Livia flipped through it but didn't start reading.
"No rush. This isn't something we should go through casually," she said calmly. "We'll look at it tomorrow after we get to the hospital. He's seen a lot—he might notice something I missed."
Her tone was measured, but she'd already committed the journal firmly to memory.
She placed the Holy Grail's base back on the table and stared at it, her gaze growing deeper and heavier.
Then her voice shifted—serious, more than ever before.
"There's something I need to tell you both in advance."
Adrian frowned. "What is it?"
"I might faint," Livia said plainly.
"What?!" they both exclaimed.
She shook her head, firm but not harsh:
"Last time I touched the shard, I blacked out. But I also recovered part of my memory. This base is the same kind of artifact. I have to touch it—because I need to see more."
She drew a long breath and slowly reached out.
The moment her fingertips made contact with the base of the Holy Grail—
—it was as if an invisible force pulled her away. Darkness swallowed her vision, and her body collapsed backward.
"Livia!"
"Sis!"
The two caught her just in time, laying her gently on the couch in the secret chamber.
And Livia—or rather, Alia—once again fell into that familiar, hazy dream.
She stood in a void as the vision slowly unfolded before her.
This time, the timeline was clearly later than the last.
Years had passed since Celesta's death. Livia had seemed lost ever since, a shadow over her gaze that never quite lifted. Until one day—Edgar arranged her marriage to Marcellus.
The wedding in the dream was magnificent. The grandest cathedral in the royal city. The most solemn vows. The most jubilant blessings. Livia, in her white gown, walked slowly but with purpose. Marcellus stood at the altar with eyes full of warmth, looking only at her.
Alia, though a bystander in the dream, could feel it—his love for her was real.
"He… really did love her then, didn't he?" she asked herself quietly.
But for some reason, Edgar never smiled—not before, not after the wedding. His expression remained tense, like he was hiding something unspeakable.
Then the dream shifted.
Scenes of their married life unfolded—waking up together in the morning, laughter in the gardens, sharing meals and idle chatter, sleeping side by side… Even their first intimate night, filled with tenderness and inexperience.
During this time, Livia seemed to finally emerge from her long shadow. Her smile became more frequent, more genuine. For a moment, it truly looked as if fate had finally relented.
Until—
One night.
Livia couldn't sleep. She wandered the corridor quietly and noticed the light still on in the study.
She opened the door—
—and froze.
In that instant, she turned to stone.
Alia couldn't see what she saw. But she could see Livia's face—draining of color, lips trembling, eyes wide with shock, disbelief, and even a flicker of fear.
Livia turned and fled—stumbling, shaken—disappearing into the shadows.
And at that exact moment, Alia woke up.
Her breathing was ragged. Her body weak, as if she'd just surfaced from deep underwater.
"Sis, you're awake!" Adrian quickly gripped her hand.
Elise pulled the blanket over her, her eyes filled with concern.
Livia closed her eyes briefly. Her heart was still pounding. She knew—she was close to the sealed truth now.
The rift between Livia and Marcellus had not been caused by outside forces. It had started that night. And what she saw—that was the key.
But she didn't yet know what it was.
"Don't worry. I'm okay," she whispered with a faint smile. Looking at her brother and her friend, who had stayed by her side the whole time, she felt something solid rise within her—certainty.
The truth was still ahead.
But with them by her side, she knew—she would never face the past alone again.