Two months later, at the Loran family's mansion.
On a quiet spring night, Stella sat by the window of her room. The air carried a faint humidity, typical of the season, and the stillness of the night seemed to settle gently over everything.
She reached out and pushed the window open.
A soft breeze slipped inside, brushing against her face as she stood there, gazing outside. The garden stretched beneath her, its trees standing calm, their leaves trembling lightly under the passing wind. Above them, the full moon hung clear and luminous, casting a pale glow over the landscape.
There was almost no sound, only the faint rustling of leaves and, somewhere far away, the brief bark of a dog before silence returned once more.
For a few moments, she remained still, her thoughts drifting into emptiness as she watched the sky. Then, exhaling quietly, she murmured, "the sky is so beautiful tonight."
Back in the city of ' Big Bridge ', such a view was rare.
The sky there was often obscured, crowded, dim, and restless, much like the city itself, but here, everything felt open, calm, and untouched.
"I wonder what they're doing now… How are they?"
The thought pulled her mind back to her family.
"I hope Father has fully recovered. If he has, he'll be able to calm her… and take care of Jean too."
A soft sigh escaped her as memories surfaced, everything that had happened since her arrival, each event layered quietly over the last.
"The most important thing now is to focus on what's ahead," she told herself, "that's better than worrying endlessly."
Stepping away from the window, she crossed the room toward a small cupboard placed neatly against the wall. It had become her personal corner, reserved for books she found interesting or potentially useful.
Behind the stacked volumes, her phone and a few belongings carefully hidden. Everything was arranged with deliberate care.
"I should really return some of these to the library… though I'm glad Liam values books as much as he does."
She picked two volumes at random and moved back to the bed, placing an oil lamp beside her.
The soft light flickered as she opened the first book. After a few minutes of scanning its pages, she closed it with mild irritation and set it aside.
"I've read something like this before… the same information repeated again. Did the author just rewrite the same book? How annoying."
Finding reliable historical sources had proven frustrating. There were few available, and most offered identical content, differing only in style or presentation.
"The internet really is something incredible…" she muttered, recalling how effortless it had once been to access information.
She reached for the second book.
Its cover was worn, faded blue, with no clear title visible.
Curious, she opened it, but quickly frowned.
"Huh? What language is this?"
Setting the lamp on the nearby table, she leaned closer, attempting to make sense of the text.
The letters were unfamiliar, their shapes uneven and difficult to follow.
"Well… let's see what's written anyway."
The pages were in poor condition, edges slightly torn and discolored with age, though not worse than the cover itself.
"I don't remember taking this one… I probably grabbed it by accident. It's smaller than the others."
Carefully, she turned the pages. The first six were blank, no title, no author, nothing at all, only on the seventh page did a brief introduction appear, written in small, cramped script that required effort to decipher.
Despite the difficulty, she continued.
Then, on the tenth page, she found a map !
Her eyes widened in sudden shock.
It was a world map, uncannily similar to the one she remembered from her homeland.
This time, the writing was larger, clearer, she leaned closer, reading with growing focus.
The map was carefully drawn, detailed despite the book's worn state. Across the southern landmass, bold letters read: "South Side."
Opposite it, "North Side."
At the poles, simple labels marked "South Ice" and "North Ice."
"I haven't seen any maps since I arrived… finally, something useful."
A spark of excitement lit her eyes as she scanned the surrounding text, searching for anything she could fully understand.
One section spoke of a nobleman from a well-known family who had discovered a vast, uncharted land filled with islands.
"So… this is about our continent," she murmured, "back home, we were always taught that we were the original inhabitants… that no migration ever happened."
Yet the text told a different story.
It described a man who had journeyed from the northern continent to an empty southern land. The account suggested it had happened by accident, he and a group of companions had lost their way at sea.
His name was written clearly, "Morwen Seren Whitemore."
Later known as "The Saint."
The name stirred something in her memory, faint but familiar, though she couldn't place it.
Still, that detail mattered little compared to what she was now uncovering.
His family had once held immense power, true rulers of the northern continent.
After returning, he had spoken of the discovery, requesting support for a larger expedition.
But the head of the Whitemore family had refused outright, fearing the discovery might threaten their dominance. He had even forbidden anyone from spreading the information.
Unwilling to accept this, Morwen rebelled, gaining support from other noble families.
The rebellion was crushed.
Execution had been considered.
Instead, the conflict escalated into a prolonged civil war between opposing factions, lasting for years. In the end, Morwen and his followers surrendered and were imprisoned.
Many expected their deaths.
Yet the new ruler, his own cousin, so he chose exile instead.
But peace did not follow.
Soon after, the ruler himself was assassinated, by that same cousin. Chaos returned, plunging the continent into another war.
Morwen, now branded a traitor, was exiled to the southern continent along with his supporters.
From that moment on, they became enemies of the north.
Later, the governing system changed entirely.
The continent was divided into four regions, each centered around a major city, ruled in succession by powerful noble families.
Though the book itself was short, its content carried immense weight.
"This is exactly what I was looking for… thank goodness I picked it up."
She closed the book carefully and placed it back in the cupboard.
"I should keep this one with me. It's valuable…"
But the earlier excitement faded as another thought settled in.
"This book explains a lot of things… then why were we lied to all these years?"
Sleep did not come easily that night.
She lay awake for hours, turning restlessly, thoughts circling without pause, until a knock at the door broke the silence.
She rose quickly and approached it.
"Who is it?"
A familiar voice answered,
"Alina… can you open the door?"
It was Carla.
Opening it, Stella frowned slightly.
"Carla? What are you doing here at this hour?"
Carla shifted awkwardly, her expression uneasy.
"Alina… can I sleep here tonight?"
Stella blinked in confusion.
"Why? Don't you share a room with the others?"
"…A snake got in," Carla said quietly.
That explained everything.
Even if it had been removed, the thought alone was enough to keep anyone away from that bed.
"…Alright," Stella said after a pause. "Just for tonight. But this is really unpleasant."
That night, the two shared the same bed, a cramped arrangement that made sleep even more difficult.
"I doubt even the people here know this story," Stella thought as she stared into the darkness. "I asked Helena and her mother before… but they never gave clear answers.They only said that powerful families rule… as if I were just some ignorant girl from the northern countryside."
"Only a few must know the truth… even the Loran family doesn't seem to understand everything."
Her gaze shifted slightly.
"But what matters now… is that I finally understand why those masked people were so hostile that day."
The memory sent a faint chill through her.
Fear lingered, but so did something else. Sadness.
"I just hope I find more answers in the coming days."
And with that unresolved thought, the night stretched on in silence.