The newspaper trembled slightly in Esmeralda's hands.
Not visibly.
Not enough for anyone to notice.
But she felt it.
Every word.
Every line.
Every implication.
"Incident at the Cathedral—Blessed Child Falls During Sacred Mass"
"Lady Amaria Claims Uncertainty—Possible Push?"
"Ducal Daughter Present at Scene"
Her gaze moved down.
Another headline.
Smaller.
But sharper.
"Crown Prince Seen Strolling with Blessed Child in the Capital"
"Speculations Arise Regarding Ducal Engagement"
Esmeralda lowered the paper slowly.
Her posture was steady.
Her expression was calm.
Inside—
Nothing made sense.
Wasn't this what I wanted?
The broken engagement.
The separation.
The freedom from a future that was never hers to begin with.
So why—
Why did it feel wrong?
Her fingers tightened slightly around the paper.
The story she remembered—
The one she had relied on—
It had been clear.
Predictable.
Safe.
But now—
Amaria was different.
Not kind.
Not gentle.
Not the naive heroine she had expected.
The newspaper crumpled slightly in her hand.
"…What am I supposed to do now?"
No answer came.
Of course not.
For the first time—
She felt it.
Not fear nor panic.
But something far worse.
Uncertainty.
…If the story can't be trusted…
…Then what am I even following?
Silence answered her.
So she exhaled slowly.
And whispered—
"…Oh, Goddess… if you are truly listening…"
Her gaze lowered.
"…answer my concerns."
Nothing.
No light.
No voice.
No miracle.
Just silence.
Esmeralda let out a quiet breath.
"…That's stupid of me. I mean, as if someone would actually answer."
She left her room not long after.
Her steps carried her instinctively—
To the one place she always went when her thoughts became too loud.
The tree.
Her tree.
The garden was quiet.
The air is softer here.
Gentler.
The breeze brushed against her skin, cool and steady, as if the world itself had slowed just enough to let her breathe.
Esmeralda lowered herself onto the grass.
She closed her eyes.
The weight in her chest didn't disappear.
But it loosened.
Just slightly.
The wind passed through the leaves above her, casting shifting shadows across her face.
Calm.
Unwavering.
As if—
It was lulling her.
Pulling her under.
Her thoughts blurred.
Then faded.
And before she realized it—
She fell asleep.
-----
White.
Endless and unfamiliar.
Esmeralda stood still, her breath catching slightly as she took in her surroundings.
There was nothing.
No walls.
No sky.
No ground she could truly define.
Only—
White.
At the center sat a white table.
A white chair.
And a figure—
Draped in a veil, her eyes covered by cloth.
Still.
Composed.
And drinking tea.
"…Welcome, child."
Her voice was soft.
Calm.
Esmeralda did not move.
"…Where am I? Is this a dream?"
But even as she questioned it—
She stepped forward and sat across from this entity.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Silence followed.
Not uncomfortable.
Not tense.
Just… existing.
Then—
"This is neither a dream nor a reality." the person spoke, "How are you faring in this world?"
She answered and simply questioned.
And yet—
Esmeralda hesitated.
But then—
Without thinking—
She spoke.
Words flowed out of her as if she had known this person enough to share her inner thoughts.
"…I don't know anymore."
Her voice softened.
The figure listened.
Unmoving.
"I do not have much time, child," she said gently. "Even now, I take more than I should."
A pause.
"I am Serafim."
The name settled.
"The 217th fragment of the All Mighty."
Esmeralda's breath stilled.
"I was assigned to watch over this world," Serafim continued. "And in the process of looking after it, I fell in love."
Her voice softened further.
"With its people. With their lives."
A faint pause.
"And so, I gave them my love."
Esmeralda's hands tightened slightly.
"A blessed child to be born in each generation," Serafim said. "so that my children will know of my love."
Her covered gaze turned toward her.
"For this one…"
A breath.
"I have blessed you."
Esmeralda's eyes widened.
"…Me?"
"Since the day you were born," Serafim continued, "I have blessed you with so much love."
The words felt… warm.
Unfamiliar.
"The wealth you hold. The family that cherishes you."
A pause.
"My blessing merely enhanced your presence, but it was you who nurtured it and turned it into who you are today."
Esmeralda didn't speak.
Then—
"One day," Serafim said, quieter now, "I heard a desperate cry for mercy. A soul so broken that I could not see through her intentions"
"I pitied her," Serafim admitted. "How unfortunate is this child? I thought."
Her voice carried regret.
"And so, I gave her my blessing."
A pause.
"Again."
"And again."
"But no matter how much I gave…"
Silence.
"…her soul did not change."
Cold.
Certain.
"That's when I knew—it was simply her nature."
Esmeralda's breath hitched.
"She is destruction," Serafim said softly. "And I have made her worse."
The white space felt heavier.
"The All Mighty warned me," she continued. "To love carefully."
" But I did not listen. I had thought that as long as I loved my children, no problems would arise."
A pause.
"And now… this world will suffer for it."
Esmeralda's fingers curled.
"…Then why me?"
"Because you can change it."
The answer came without hesitation.
Esmeralda stilled.
"…The book."
"It was not just a book," Serafim corrected gently. "It was a connection."
"All worlds are bound together, even by the smallest thread."
"Your previous life… and this one."
"They touched."
"And so you saw it."
Esmeralda exhaled slowly.
"…So it was real."
"Yes."
A pause.
"And so are you. Your soul had travelled here and coincidentally, your previous world had written the future of this one."
"Is that why you said you blessed me?"
"No, child. From the moment you were born, I have felt your sincerity. A soul so pure, it would attract everything around it."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Then—
"Then.. why wasn't I declared the moment I was born?" Esmeralda asked.
"I had no means to whisper my intentions. The blessed are chosen by me, but the Miracle Workers—or as they are called in this world, the Saintess—are souls appointed directly by the Almighty."
"So then, why have you declared Amaria as the blessed one?"
"Because I could not speak nor be heard clearly," Serafim answered. "My whispers are weak. I require an extensive amount of life force just to create a connection with the Saintess."
"And when I tried to warn about the blessed child…"
A faint breath.
"I was misunderstood."
Another silence.
Long.
"I cannot take anything more than what I have already taken from you." Serafim said again.
"…I cannot help much but I can grant you this—"
Then—
She leaned forward.
And pressed a gentle kiss to Esmeralda's head.
Esmeralda's breath caught.
"Wait—what—"
The world began to break.
White cracking.
Fading.
"I—what—"
"Good luck," Serafim whispered.
"My beloved child."
Awakening
Esmeralda gasped.
Her eyes flew open.
Dark.
Familiar.
Her room.
"…Huh—?"
She pushed herself up slightly holding her head—
"My Lady!"
A loud clatter echoed.
Water spilled across the floor as Belle dropped the basin in shock.
"Tell the Duke and Duchess!" Belle shouted, already rushing forward. "She's awake!"
Another maid ran out immediately.
Esmeralda blinked.
"…Belle?"
Tears welled in her maid's eyes instantly.
"My lady…!"
She grabbed her hands, trembling.
"…What happened?"
Esmeralda frowned slightly.
"I was only asleep."
Belle froze.
Confusion replacing her panic.
"…My lady…"
Her voice shook.
"…did you not feel it?"
Esmeralda stilled.
"…Feel what?"
A pause.
Then—
"You've been asleep…"
Belle's grip tightened.
"…for a week."
"How could—"
Belle's face turned pale.
"My lady! Your hand!"
Esmeralda lowered her gaze to her wrist.
A soft glow appeared.
When it faded, a symbol remained.
"T-The Goddess's mark! My lady… you have been blessed by the Goddess!"