The atmosphere was quiet… in a refreshing room imbued with the scent of clean linen and curtains damp with the morning breeze. Karina opened her eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling for a long moment, as if the whole world had stopped at the edge of her eyelids. Her face looked pale, her eyes hazy, as if memory itself was lost within her temples. After a few seconds of staring at that ceiling, memories gradually began to seep back into her mind—she remembered everything.
She remembered all that had happened to her during that time: the wind that had shaken her body, the faint voice that had whispered deep within her, all the scenes laid before her broken mind. But when her thoughts reached the phrase "second chance," they suddenly halted, as if that single sentence had restored the keys to some locked doors within her chest.
Immediately, she carefully observed the perimeter of the ceiling, and then images of her cozy bedroom began returning to her like old pictures projected before her eyes. It was the room she used to love—the light curtains, the neatly arranged pillows, the furniture that had embraced her since childhood. She got up immediately, and tears welled in her eyes as she saw it; she didn't stop to think whether this was a dream or reality—everything here was utterly real. The room was just as she remembered it as a child: the small furniture, the familiar objects her heart was attached to. She felt a strange lightness in her chest, as if her body had truly returned to a time when she was young.
She stood on her feet and suddenly said in a trembling voice:
"What happened?..."
She was surprised that she had spoken,then repeated the words as she cried profusely from joy and astonishment:
"...I'm speaking...really..."
She moved towards the mirror, following the reflection of the room, and was truly shocked. She saw herself in the mirror—her form younger than usual; she looked more like a child than she remembered. She exclaimed with childish shock: "Whaaaaa—" she let out a small scream, unable to comprehend what she was seeing, and to her amazement, she heard voices responding to her from outside.
She heard quick footsteps approaching, the sound of running knocking on her room door, then the door swung wide open and a woman with anxious, deeply tender features entered—Carla, Karina's nanny. Carla was the woman she thought had died in the past, and here she was now, standing alive before her.
Karina kept looking on in devastation, tears streaming while astonishment gripped her. Carla, her eyes shining with intense compassion, bent towards her, wiping her face with a motherly hand, she held her shoulders and shook her gently—her touch carried a latent love Karina had been saturated with during years of tenderness.
"My lady... Rina... What's wrong, my dear?"
Carla's voice—filled with tenderness,worry, and love—was the very one that had caressed Karina's ears in her childhood, and it was like a chime awakening her heart. Karina couldn't reply immediately; instead, she hugged Carla with a surprised strangeness, and her memories of what happened before she woke up began returning, one after another.
She wondered in her head: Was she really granted another chance? Is this a new life or just a nightmare? Millions of questions began swirling in her mind without finding a single, solid answer.
"Rina... What's wrong? Tell me, I won't tell anyone..." Carla whispered gently.
Karina didn't know what to say as she wiped her tears:"It's... I feel uneasy..."
Carla looked into her eyes and whispered softly: "My lady Rina, what is troubling you? Tell me."
Karina bit her lip,avoiding Carla's gaze, then whispered in a shaky voice: "I don't know..."
Carla sighed quietly and said with gentle firmness: "Well then, a bath, the refreshing water, and soap will change your mood. I'll tell the maids to prepare the bath, and I'll bring your clothes and help you bathe..."
Karina's face reddened with embarrassment, and she said quickly, nervously: "No, no... I'm grown up. I can bathe alone. I don't need help."
Carla laughed lightly and affectionately: "Hahaha, you're still little in my eyes... even though you've turned twelve."
That information flashed like a spark in Karina's mind, as she wasn't sure of her age, but upon hearing "twelve," she suddenly remembered something—and she rushed towards Carla, grabbing her shoulder in surprise: "Wait! Is Auntie coming to live with us today?!!"
Carla was surprised by her reaction and nodded calmly: "Didn't your father tell you? Yes, our guests are coming today... It will be lovely. You'll play with your cousins and have fun with them!"
Karina felt obvious agitation—a mix of tension and joy—as if she realized she had gone back six years; this calamity—or miracle—had come on the very first day her aunt was to arrive.
Carla stood up to leave the room, and confirmed before departing: "The maids will prepare the bath, and I'll bring your clothes... There are still two hours until they arrive." Then she closed the door and left, leaving Karina sitting on the floor in dismay, trying to grasp the scene.
She sat on the bed, clutching her hair in her hands, and began seriously analyzing the information: "Oh God, how should I act? What should I do? I... yes, I've returned, how? I really don't know... Was it someone? Or... stop thinking about that! The important thing is how I'll deal with my aunt! Should I tell them everything? Noooo, wrong!"
She kept thinking and calculating every step while holding strands of her hair, her eyes shining with a mix of fear and determination, as time passed and a silent resolve settled in her chest to hide the secrets of the past until she knew exactly how to face the future.
---
Karina remained immersed in her thoughts, her head full of memories and questions, until light knocks on the door cut off her internal stream. Carla entered with quiet steps, carrying a tender smile as she said:
"Come on,my lady, the bath is ready..."
Karina rose hesitantly, as if moving within a dream she hadn't fully awakened from. She entered the bathroom and let the warm water trickle over her young skin, washing away some of the tension weighing on her chest. After finishing, she sat in front of the mirror while Carla gently combed her hair, passing the comb through soft strands as if weaving memories anew.
Karina was distracted, thinking all the time, her eyelids tense, her breaths intermittent from intense anxiety. Suddenly, an idea occurred to her; she turned to Carla and said in a hurried voice:
"Carla...Is Papa here? And my uncle... Grandma?"
Carla raised her eyebrows in surprise at Rina's strange question and answered gently:
"Have you lost your memory,dear? Of course, the Duke is in his study. As for Lady Osana, as you know, she is at her estate, and I believe she will return the day after tomorrow... and Lord Yuri is still traveling; he has business that will take some time before he returns."
Karina's heartbeats quickened, and memories suddenly flooded her. Yes... at that time, no one was home except her and her father. She remembered when her grandmother would return and how they would go out for a stroll together, and how she would invite Sena to accompany them, making it seem as if she treated her like her own granddaughter. Many details returned successively, overwhelming her mind.
Carla finished combing her hair and helped her put on a beautiful pink dress suited to her age, clothing her in an elegant, childish simplicity. As soon as she was done, Karina dashed out of the room, her heart pounding as she gazed at the palace with eyes full of longing and nostalgia.
Her glances shifted between every corner: the long corridors, the ornate doors, the portraits of ancestors, the guards standing reverently, and the maids bowing to her respectfully. Everything seemed familiar and strange at the same time, as if she was seeing it with new eyes.
She approached her father's study with hesitant steps. She stood before the door, her body trembling as she held back tears, biting her lip to compose herself. She raised her small hand and knocked lightly on the door, then whispered in a hoarse voice:
"Papa...it's me..."
She pushed the door gently, and as soon as her eyes fell upon her father, every wall she had built in her chest collapsed. She couldn't endure it; she ran with all her might and threw herself into his embrace, tears overflowing from her eyes incessantly.
Theobald was surprised by her trembling, by her profuse tears, but he said nothing except to lift her and sit her on his lap, holding her tightly, a smile gracing his face.
"Stop crying,you crybaby... What's making you cry? Did someone take your candy?"
Despite the overwhelming longing she carried, Rina laughed lightly at his joke as she wiped her tears:
"Papa...I'm not a child..."
Theobald smiled a calm smile and said, running his hand over her hair:
"But in my eyes,you'll always be a child... my child, no matter how old you get."
He increased the strength of his hug as he looked at her affectionately, then pretended to ponder and said:
"Hmmm...I see you're saying 'Papa'?"
Rina raised her eyes to him, her small hands trembling as she held her father's hand, then said with a childish lightness mixed with teasing:
"I meaaan Daaadddyyyyy...Hehehe."
She laughed childishly, feeling as if she was living a dream, and Theobald laughed in turn, a sincere laugh coming from the depths of his heart.
But suddenly, her laughter stopped when her eyes fell on a painting hanging on the wall—a picture of her mother "Rivelina," the woman who had passed away when she was still an infant.
Her breath caught. She knew how deeply her father had loved her, and how he had drowned in grief after her departure, for Rivelina was his first and last love. She had always heard about their great love, the understanding that united them. And although Karina strongly resembled her father, she had the same wide eyes as her mother, a legacy linking her to her forever.
Theobald noticed her gaze, and his smile widened as he contemplated his wife's portrait, then he whispered:
"Karina...Rivelina sees us too, and she is happy every moment she sees her daughter growing up... Let's give her a beautiful smile in return."
Karina nodded in agreement, raised her eyes towards the painting, and smiled innocently, as if offering her mother a smile from her heart.
But Theobald added in a quiet voice:
"And let us be kind to her sister and her children...they are her bequest."
Karina's heart shuddered upon hearing that, a heavy lump stuck in her throat. A forged bequest... lies told in my mother's name to gain attention and power...
Despite that, their conversation continued calmly, a father and his child, warm moments that were melting the ice in her soul. After a while, she told him with a slight smile that she would go out, as there were things she wanted to do.
She returned to her room, sat at her small desk, took out a paper and pen, and began sketching with a trembling hand a plan for what she must do. She was thinking about the rules, the steps, the strategies... her mind boiling as if she was living an internal battle, knowing that what was to come would not be easy.
---
She drew a small map on the paper, with a delicate pen that shook in her hand like a nerve. She was sketching faces and events as if trying to reassemble a shattered chessboard from one night. Every number she wrote was a note in a melody composed by her tired memory.
1. The second prince stabbed the Emperor.
She wrote it with steady script,without a question mark; because she saw it as a definitive event allowing no doubt. The word on the paper seemed like a final verdict, like the sharp edge of a sword.
2. A white light appeared from his side.
She drew a small circle next to the number 2,and sketched short lines around it like emanating rays. She concentrated, staring at the vision she had seen, searching her memory for a reason for that light, whispering to herself: "What is this? I don't know..." then added in smaller script: "But I saw the light."
3. She felt comfort as if all negativity vanished.
She wrote simple words next to the number:"Overwhelming relief... I don't know why." A blush spread on her cheeks as she wrote that—a mix of relief and fear of not understanding.
Between numbers 2 and 3, she drew a connecting line with her frightened fingertips, as if wanting to link the light to the relief. "The two might have a single cause... something from the second prince..." she wrote with a trembling clarity. Then she erased the last word and exclaimed inwardly: "What is it? I don't know."
1. A great power and anger erupted from me.
She drew a small black wave pointing outward and put an exclamation mark next to it.She whispered self-mockingly: "What is this stupidity? It might be magic... I really don't know." She laughed a little, a laugh at her own naivety, but her fingers trembled at the thought of the power that had erupted from her.
2. People flew like leaves due to my power.
She put a dot and then a line connecting it to the square drawn for the power,as if linking every effect on the scene to a single strike. She wrote: "Connected 5 and 4 — so two similar points then..." and closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the scene of the wind carrying people away.
She kept thinking for seconds, stroking her forehead with her fingers, trying to extract information hiding at the edge of her memory. Then she wrote slowly:
1. The second prince disappeared.
And next to it,she wrote in fragmented marks: "How is this?!! Why am I stupid? I know nothing!" The word fell heavily on the page just as she fell back against the chair, shattered and suspended by the fire of questions.
2. She felt something else inside her... a spirit and a voice not coming from her but whispering within her.
Next to this sentence,she drew a wavy line, as if capturing a tone between reality and imagination. At first, she thought it a foolish conclusion: "An internal ghost... and that's it." But she knew in a moment that this justification was an escape from acknowledging the magnitude of what had happened.
She bit her thumb nervously and decided she would interrogate her father in some way: "It might be magic... something magical." She opened a new page and wrote resolutely:
"Now... I have ways to change my life..."
Her letters were bolder now,a script leaning forward like someone stepping out.
She began listing options, solidifying on paper a dark but practical idea:
"Getting rid of Aunt and her children..."
She quickly sketched a picture of her aunt and her children at the palace gate, their features simplified but clear in her mind. Then she sat thinking about how to get them out of the house in ways that wouldn't hurt her father. She looked out the window as if searching for an ally in the external space, and a truth stepped on her heart: "What if I show them that they are bad in some way—so that Papa expels them?"
She laughed a mischievous laugh, a laugh of ladies of darkness, even falling off the chair laughing, a laugh emanating from a cold depth that allowed her a moment of liberation. She rubbed her head from the fall and said bitterly: "Ouch... I'm such a madwoman..." She got up slowly to sit again, her hand pressing on her forehead as if trying to solidify the idea of being mad.
Then she stopped, and her face turned to the next page where she wrote in smaller lines: "And now... how will I heal myself?" That was the final issue her heart was still panting after. She let out a short hum, as if talking to herself: "Search for the Purification Stone... I'll think carefully, but the most important thing now is to get rid of my aunt."
She temporarily closed her writing, stretched her hand towards the cold teacup beside her, tasted its bitterness as if tasting fate. The paper before her was a map of a grim plan: a white light, relief, a magical power, internal ghosts, and the disappearance of men from the world. Every line on it connected something to an omen.
One of the maids knocked on the door, making Karina startle quickly and close the notebook at once, then she hid it under her bed as if it were burning embers. She turned towards the door, her heart pounding violently, until she heard the delicate voice:
"Your Ladyship... the guests have arrived."
She swallowed her saliva, furrowed her eyebrows, and replied in a low voice:
"Alright..."
She stepped hesitantly towards the door, then opened it to see her father at the end of the hallway, majestic as always. She ran with quick steps to catch up to him, and when she reached his side, he lovingly placed his hand on her shoulder and said calmly:
"Come, Rina."
She nodded lightly, clinging to his robe like a frightened child. They descended the stairs together, their footsteps harmonizing with the echo of the great hall. Karina tried to hide the trembling of her fingers, but her eyes caught that hall...
The very hall.
The hall where in the past she had seen the corpses of her family lying amidst blood,the smell of death still stuck in her memory. She felt cold blood running through her veins and tried hard to remove the thought from her head, but it stuck in her consciousness like a thorn. Tension was etched on every feature of her face.
Her father noticed this, tilted his head slightly towards her, and whispered:
"What's wrong?Is something bothering you?"
Karina shook her head quickly, tightening her grip on her dress.
"Nothing..."
Theobald observed her for a moment but didn't want to burden her with questions. He contented himself with a calm gesture, then continued walking with confident steps.
They entered the guest room, and the scene was another nightmare materializing before her. Aunt "Elena" rose standing, the smile painted on her face not deceiving Karina at all. The woman bowed lightly, and her two sons bowed with her, Sena and San, close to her in age, their falsely innocent faces fueling the fire in her chest.
The Duke stood before them, his voice deep and solemn as he said:
"We are honored by your arrival...please, sit."
He sat first on his large chair, and Karina sat beside him. She was trying with all her might to hide the turmoil in her chest, but her eyes betrayed her; tension, anger, and the desire to scream.
Elena sat opposite them, with all her artificial dignity, and said in a voice dripping with false kindness:
"How are you,Lord Theobald? We thank you for your great generosity in hosting us and accepting us among you."
Then she tilted her head slightly to the side and pointed to her sons:
"These are my sons...Sena is eleven, and San is ten. Come, bow."
The two bowed submissively, and Sena raised his face with a fleeting glance towards Karina, a small smile breaking his features... a smile her father didn't understand, but for Karina, it was an old dagger re-stabbing itself into her chest.
Theobald smiled his warm smile and said in a calm, paternal tone, gesturing with his hand for them:
"You may sit...be like brothers to Karina."
The two nodded obediently, their faces bearing expressions of artificial childhood as they sat on the silk seats like little angels. As for Theobald, he stood after a moment, adjusting his jacket sleeves, saying:
"I have some work...make yourselves at home. Karina will show you to your rooms."
At that moment, Karina's body froze in place, she gripped her dress with her small hands, then approached her father and whispered in a tense voice:
"Nooo...Daddy, I don't want to..."
Her father looked at her with mild surprise, his eyes searching her features for a reason, but Rina hurried to say with greater seriousness:
"The head servant...can show them the rooms."
The head servant was surprised, hesitating as he looked between the Duke and Karina:
"Ah...I..."
But Theobald interrupted him with a confident smile and a firm, paternal voice:
"You