Remesis woke the next morning when the soft, almost gentle rays of sunlight cautiously touched her face, as if checking whether she was ready to open her eyes.
For a few seconds, she simply lay there without moving, listening to the silence and trying to understand where she was.
When her vision finally cleared, she was faced with an unfamiliar room — foreign walls and a foreign ceiling. For a moment, emptiness arose in her mind, and Remesis couldn't immediately remember what had happened to her.
But it didn't last long.
The memories of the past night surged back suddenly and sharply, like a cold wave, leaving not the slightest chance to hide from them. Images, feelings, fear — everything returned at once, making her contract inwardly.
Sighing heavily, Remesis slowly sat up on the edge of the bed, lowering her feet to the floor. She desperately wanted to believe that all of this had been just a bad dream, one of those that vanish with the first rays of the sun. That all she had to do was fully wake up — and everything would be as before. But reality remained stubborn and cold: nothing had disappeared.
She sat in silence for a while, not moving, only sifting through fragments of thoughts in her head, trying to piece them together into something coherent.
So she didn't immediately hear the soft knock on the door.
"My lady, are you awake?" came Seyla's familiar voice from the other side, soft but slightly worried.
Remesis hesitated for a moment, as if returning from far away, and only then answered, trying to infuse calm into her voice:
"Yes... come in."
After her words, the door cautiously opened, and the maid entered the room, carrying a tray with breakfast from which a light aroma of fresh food emanated.
Remembering that Seyla had had to shelter her in her own home — and so suddenly — and how much trouble she must have caused her, Remesis felt another pang of guilt. This feeling was persistent, not allowing her to simply brush it aside.
She lowered her gaze and said quietly:
"Sorry for all this trouble... I'll try to leave as soon as possible."
Seyla, who was at that moment carefully placing the tray on a small table, paused and looked at her with a slight reproach.
"My lady, you shouldn't say that," she replied. "It is a great honor for me to help you in a difficult situation."
Remesis chuckled softly, but weariness sounded in her voice:
"But you haven't been my maid for a long time now..."
Seyla shook her head, as if not accepting these words.
"That's not true. Deep down, you will always be my mistress."
This time, Remesis couldn't find an answer. These simple, sincere words unexpectedly touched her more than she had anticipated. Somewhere inside, through the anxiety and weariness, a warm feeling emerged — barely noticeable, but important. Even now, when everything was crumbling, there was still someone by her side who hadn't turned away from her.
Seyla, as if deciding not to dwell on this moment, softly added:
"Eat first. And then I'll help you take a bath. You need to change your clothes as soon as possible."
Hearing this, Remesis involuntarily looked down at herself — and immediately felt embarrassed. Since last night, she was still wearing the same nightgown, wrinkled and far from its best condition. Moreover, the memory of how she had vomited from the ordeal made her tense up even more.
After everything that had happened, her appearance must indeed have left much to be desired.
She sighed quietly and looked away.
Yes... she definitely needed to freshen up as soon as possible.
"Thank you," Remesis said quietly. "But this is your home after all, and I don't want to cause you unnecessary inconvenience... I can wash and change by myself just fine."
Seyla held her gaze for a moment, as if wanting to object, but ultimately just nodded. A light, understanding smile appeared on her face.
Remesis picked up her spoon and, after a slight pause, began her breakfast. The food was simple — plain porridge and a piece of bread, nothing fancy. But now the warm, almost homely simplicity was unexpectedly soothing.
However, after a few sips, something important suddenly surfaced in her mind.
She lifted her gaze:
"What about Michel? What's happening with him now?"
"My lord..." Seyla hesitated slightly, as if searching for words. "It seems he hasn't woken up yet."
"What?" Remesis frowned in surprise.
Even without getting up, one glance out the window was enough to understand — morning had long since settled in. The sunlight was too bright for this to be called an early hour. So why was her brother still sleeping?
Noticing her reaction, Seyla looked slightly embarrassed and hastened to explain:
"Our house is very small, and there were no spare rooms..." she lowered her gaze for a second. "So my husband had to arrange for my lord to stay in the attic. There's no proper bed there, just a mattress stuffed with straw... It seems my lord was very uncomfortable. He tossed and turned almost all night, complaining he couldn't sleep... So, it appears he only fell asleep towards morning."
Hearing this, Remesis paused for a moment — and then couldn't help but let out a quiet snort of laughter.
The picture in her imagination was just too vivid.
Her older brother — arrogant, impeccably mannered, with that innate sense of nobility that seemed etched into his very bones since childhood... And now this same person was forced to sleep on a straw-stuffed mattress somewhere in the attic.
It was so absurd and unfamiliar that Remesis almost felt a pang of regret that she couldn't see it with her own eyes.
With this thought, she smiled faintly again and returned to her breakfast, her mood now slightly lighter.
And just at that moment, Seyla, who had been watching her closely, unexpectedly said:
"My lady... you finally smiled."
"What?" Remesis looked up, slightly surprised.
"Since you returned to the mansion, I hardly ever saw you smile..." Seyla said quietly, a slightly sad smile appearing on her face. "I thought you must have been going through a very difficult time. So... I'm really glad to see you like this now."
There was no pretense or exaggeration in her voice — only genuine relief and care.
Remesis felt a little embarrassed and slightly averted her gaze.
It hadn't occurred to her that this could be something significant. An ordinary, almost accidental smile... and yet, for someone, it had been important.
She was about to focus on her food again to hide her awkwardness when Seyla spoke to her once more.
This time, her voice sounded different — more tense.
And the way she looked at Remesis was truly concerned.
"My lady... although I don't know all the details of what happened to you," Seyla began cautiously, "it seems to me that you should return north as soon as possible."
Remesis frowned, not immediately understanding where she was going with this.
"What? Why?"
Seyla lowered her gaze for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts, and then continued more seriously:
"In the last while... too much has happened in the south. Especially in the capital — it's very unsafe there right now. People can feel it. Many are already leaving the city, trying to find a calmer place."
The words sounded calm, but behind them, a hidden tension was palpable. Remesis involuntarily became alert. She hadn't expected to hear something like this, especially from Seyla.
But she didn't stop.
Her voice grew quieter, and a heaviness crept into it:
"Too many... terrible things have happened. First the Crown Princess... and then the Emperor and Empress. All of them died. The situation in the empire is extremely unstable right now."
"What?.." Remesis lifted her head sharply, not believing what she heard. "The Emperor and Empress... passed away?"
Seyla looked at her in confusion:
"My lady... haven't you heard about this?"
Remesis paused for a moment, feeling a chill inside.
"I... no."
And it was true.
Ever since that horrible tragedy had occurred in her life, Remesis seemed to have shut herself off from the rest of the world. Everything that happened beyond her own thoughts and feelings had ceased to matter. She was no longer interested in rumors, news, or the fate of the empire as a whole.
Even after arriving in the south, she had never tried to find out what was going on around her. She had spent those days in almost complete isolation at the Carter family mansion. No news, no talk about what was happening outside. Even Livius never mentioned anything like that, as if shielding her from it.
So what she heard now sounded completely unexpected to her.
"...It's true," Seyla confirmed quietly. "At the moment, the entire imperial family is dead."
Remesis involuntarily swallowed.
This was truly too sudden.
Seyla, noticing her state, nonetheless continued, albeit cautiously:
"To put it bluntly... the empire is probably on the brink of war right now."
Remesis said nothing.
A thick, oppressive silence settled in the room.
"War between the north and the south... it is already very close."
***
The young man with dark hair and amethyst eyes opened his eyes abruptly, surfacing from a heavy, restless stupor. The cause was a persistent sensation — someone was shaking him, preventing him from sinking back into the darkness.
"...My lord! My lord, please wake up!"
The voice sounded alarmed, nearly breaking.
Livius Natantin Carter couldn't focus his gaze immediately, but gradually the worried face of Morris came into view before him. The servant was supporting him, almost holding him close, desperately trying to bring him to his senses. Other servants had already gathered around them — their faces were tense, alarmed, exchanging glances, unsure of what to do.
Pain throbbed in Livius's temples. His head was splitting, as if he had taken a strong blow, and with the slightest movement, an unpleasant sensation in the back of his head made itself known — there was definitely a bruise there.
He winced slightly, trying to understand what had happened.
But in the next moment, the memories of the previous night returned.
Sharply. Without warning.
They crashed over him like an icy wave, knocking out the remnants of sleepiness and making his heart clench. Everything — the events, the images, the tension — surfaced in his memory with frightening clarity.
And at that same moment, Livius fully regained his senses.
His eyes widened, his breath caught for a second, and only one single thought remained in his mind, pushing out everything else.
"Remesis!" He abruptly grabbed Morris's arm with unexpected force. "My sister... where is she?!"
Morris hesitated for a moment, clearly reluctant to answer immediately. His gaze darted to the side, as if he were trying to find the right words — or at least soften them.
"My lady... she..." he faltered, then continued, "it seems she left together with Lord Michel."
"What?!" Livius exclaimed, shocked, lurching forward.
Disbelief and mounting tension mingled in his voice.
Morris involuntarily pursed his lips but continued to explain:
"Last night, I happened to see the two of them together. I intended to call the guards immediately, but... I didn't make it." He closed his eyes for a second, as if remembering. "When I regained consciousness, we were already locked in this room. I called for help right away then."
His words sounded even, but behind them, awkwardness and anxiety were palpable.
Livius listened, and with each word, his expression grew darker.
Shock quickly gave way to a dull, mounting rage.
"That bastard..." the thought flashed sharply and harshly in his mind. "So it was him who struck me?!.."
He gritted his teeth.
Never before had Livius Carter experienced such anger. It wasn't just irritation or frustration — this feeling rose from within, spreading through his veins like molten iron, making the blood roar in his ears. His thoughts became tangled, sharper, more fragmented, stripping him of his usual cold clarity.
Unable to bear it, he abruptly rose to his feet, almost roughly pushing the servant away. His movements no longer held their former restraint — only tension and barely suppressed irritation.
"Incompetent idiots... how could you let him escape?!"
Livius's voice rang out sharp and harsh, like a blow. He looked directly at the guards, who were shifting guiltily at the entrance, not daring to raise their eyes.
"You were tasked with guarding just one person," he continued, colder now, but only more terrifying for it. "Was that truly too difficult a task for you? What do you even get paid for?!"
None of the guards dared to answer. They stood with their heads bowed, fully aware of their guilt. But their silence and helpless appearance only irritated Livius more.
It seemed to him that it only made things worse.
A dull, heavy feeling grew in his chest, demanding release.
Finally, he sharply averted his gaze, as if deciding it was pointless to waste any more time on them.
It was clear now — he would have to deal with this himself.
"That bastard dared to kidnap my sister..." the thought flared anew. "I truly regret not killing him then!"
Livius clenched his teeth so hard that pain shot through his jaw. It took immense effort to keep himself in check — anger was literally bursting out, hindering clear thought.
Without another word, he headed for the exit, intending to leave the room immediately. A confused Morris and tense silence remained behind him.
But, almost at the door, Livius suddenly stopped.
As if a thought had suddenly returned to him.
He slowly turned his head and, without fully looking back, said:
"You have one day."
"...What?"
"Within one day, you will find out where that bastard who kidnapped my sister is." He paused briefly, gritting his teeth. "If that doesn't happen... you'd better not ask what punishment awaits you."
The room grew even quieter.
Morris involuntarily shuddered, feeling a chill run down his spine. These words were not an empty threat — he knew his master too well to doubt that.
Meanwhile, Livius Carter stood motionless, like a stone statue, but a very different storm raged inside him. His face remained cold, almost indifferent, yet a hard, unyielding resolve was frozen in his eyes.
He slowly clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
"Michel... it seems it's truly time to settle the score with you..."
The anger that had seized Livius was no longer just a flash of emotion. It was becoming something deeper and more dangerous — something slowly transforming into a cold, almost painful obsession.
"I will spare no one who dares to take my sister from me..."
His gaze darkened.
"Not even you."