The world felt hazy as Laura slowly regained consciousness.
Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing the familiar sight of her own chambers.
For a few monts, she simply stared at the ceiling, her mind sluggish from what felt like a long sleep.
She rubbed her groggy eyes, mumbling, "What ti is it...?"
Then, suddenly, a wave of realization struck her like a hamr.
"Wait a minute... where am I?!"
She shot up from the bed, scanning her surroundings.
Her gaze landed on the large window across the room. Without wasting a second, she rushed over and flung it open.
The castle’s grand view greeted her, confirming what she feared.
"Yeah... I’m back in the castle," she muttered, feeling a strange sense of unease.
Then, her eyes widened.
"And it’s noon?!"
Panic surged through her.
Not because of the mystery behind her sudden return.
Not because of how she had arrived here almost ghostly, without any recollection.
But because it was noon.
She was what people would call an early bird.
And yet here she was, waking up midday, sothing completely unnatural for her.
Then—
Clatter.
A faint sound of sandals echoed outside her door.
Her body tensed.
She turned, watching the entrance with a wary gaze.
Then, the door swung open, revealing—
Olie.
The demonic maid.
With a tray of food in her hands.
For a brief mont, Olie froze.
Then—
Her face contorted as her eyes welled up.
The tray was placed down with alarming speed, and before Laura could react, Olie bolted forward—
Throwing herself into a tight embrace around Laura.
Tears stread down the young maid’s cheeks as she sobbed.
"Laura, you finally woke up...!" she sniffled, gripping onto her like a lifeline. "I thought that bastard did sothing to you... sob..."
Laura smiled wryly.
’Why does every little or big problem always get plastered on his face?’
She fully ignored the fact that, not too long ago, she used to be one of those who did the exact sa thing.
Sighing, she gently caressed the crying girl’s head, comforting her.
"How did I get here, though?" she asked.
Olie sniffled, wiping her tears, before pulling away and fixing her outfit.
"That bastard Einar did," she muttered, crossing her arms.
Laura blinked.
Olie continued. "At first, when he arrived, we thought so stranger was trying to swoon you. Carrying you princess style and all."
...
Laura froze.
"Princess style?"
"Yeah," Olie nodded, completely serious. "He carried you like a princess. Then he was the one who tucked you in."
...
Silence.
Then—
A soft puff of steam practically erupted from Laura’s face as her cheeks burned bright red.
She clenched her fists, stamring, "A-And you guys couldn’t stop him?!"
Olie shook her head.
"Like I said," she replied, completely unapologetic, "we thought he was trying to swoon you."
Laura’s eye twitched.
"He looked really handso, so we just... ignored the introductions."
Olie shrugged, looking almost smug.
"We were like, ’Sis got a good man.’"
Laura facepald.
She hadn’t been paying enough attention to the fact that Einar had changed drastically.
Thinking back, weren’t they basically play-fighting in the middle of the desert?
She hadn’t been cautious of him.
And neither had he.
Then, she rembered—
His arms around her waist.
The gooey substance saring onto her.
The way he held her close.
...
Her face burned even more.
Olie narrowed her eyes, her instincts picking up on the change in Laura’s expression.
"Sis," she whispered, leaning in closer. "Did he... do sothing to you?"
Her tone turned deadly serious.
"If he did, I swear I will gather magical weapons and smite that bastard."
Laura scoffed.
"You didn’t do anything when he carried ."
Olie flinched, now embarrassed.
"T-That’s because he looked different!" she protested.
"We didn’t really observe it was him until Bess—"
(High ponytail maid.)
"—pointed out the similarities."
Laura groaned, rubbing her forehead.
"Whatever," she sighed. "What about the work? Is everything done?"
Olie puffed up her non-existent chest.
"Yes!" she said proudly.
"Not just everyday housework, but also town-related matters! That was completely handled by Bess!"
Laura smiled subtly, patting her head.
"That’s good," she said. "Now, give your sis so free space. I’ll join you all in a minute."
Olie nodded furiously, then gestured toward the tray.
"And please eat," she scolded. "You look like you starved for a week."
Laura laughed at her seemingly on-point remark.
Then—
Olie left.
And Laura sat on her bed, a brooding expression settling on her face.
"...Einar said he forgot his mories," she murmured.
"Maybe that’s why he’s acting differently...?"
She frowned.
"But that doesn’t make sense."
Losing mories doesn’t make you an entirely different person.
It doesn’t erase incompetence.
It doesn’t remove arrogance.
It doesn’t lower the natural distance he always kept from peasants.
And it definitely doesn’t explain—
"...He wouldn’t have ever touched ."
Her fingers curled into fists.
"Not unless his mind wasn’t stable."
She swallowed, a sense of unease creeping in.
"That’s... not him."
She looked down at her trembling hands.
"So other entity has probably taken over his body."
Her breath hitched.
"I need to inform his father."
With her mind set, she moved toward her desk.
Opening a drawer, she pulled out—
A quill.
An ink bottle.
And a parchnt.
She took a deep breath.
Then sat down, staring at the blank paper.
Lord Varek Sanguis.
One of the most enigmatic figures of their era.
A Deity.
A being standing atop the food chain.
Writing to him was like writing to a God.
Still—
She gritted her teeth, dipped her quill into ink, and began writing.
’Dear Lord,
This humble servant of your loved 1017th son, Einar, wishes to convey her heartfelt concern.
For the past few months, the young master had locked himself away due to circumstances. However, after erging from his slumber, he has been acting... differently.
Too differently.
This humble servant does not wish to cross her boundaries, but I fear—
Sothing has possessed him.
I humbly beg you to give so of your precious ti to this matter.
To Lord Varek Sanguis.’
She hesitated.
Then—
Whoosh.
The mont she wrote his na—
The parchnt vanished.
As if it had never existed.
Her breath quickened, despite having seen it before.
She murmured to herself.
"...I hope he’s the sa."
For better or for worse.
A faint grumble leaked from her stomach.
"...I guess I should eat first before moving forward."
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