~ Chapter : 4 ~
Another month passed like that.
The excuse that she had lost her memory and didn’t know anything proved extremely useful. Thanks to it, she managed to survive every crisis whenever people came to visit.
“If I say I don’t know, there’s nothing they can do about it.”
Still, it was suffocating.
The room reeked of medicinal herbs, and even ventilation was kept to the bare minimum since all the windows couldn’t be opened at once. It was painfully clear they had no intention of leaving even the slightest chance for her to escape. More than anything, being confined to the room under the excuse that she needed to recover was unbearably frustrating.
If she so much as twitched a finger, she could have anything handed to her—but she wasn’t allowed to leave. It was no different from a beautifully decorated prison. Even so, a whole month was too much.
No—counting the first chaotic week, it had been nearly a month and a half.
Stretched out in frustration, Ritia finally stood up when everyone had left the room. She began searching for the diary again.
The room was enormous, servants came in frequently to check on her, and the medicine prescribed by her physician always made her drowsy. Properly searching the room had been far from easy.
She searched desk drawers, bedside tables, wardrobes—every corner of the room—but found nothing. Finally, on a hunch, she crawled under the bed. Wedged between the bed frame was a small book.
“Ha… it was that simple.”
Ritia brushed back her disheveled hair and opened the diary.
The neat handwriting—not a single hurried scrawl—seemed to perfectly reflect its owner’s original personality.
“Let’s see…”
Maybe there would be some useful information. She flipped quickly to the back, assuming the most recent entries would be there.
Even those were already nearly two months old.
Year 293, February 7
Today, I saw a white butterfly.
Flutter, flutter—it looked so free.
I wish I could be like that too.
Year 293, February 6
Father was displeased again.
Running away from that place again, of all things.
Why am I always like this?
But that place was so suffocating, so painful.
Is there anyone who actually wants me to exist?
I wish I would just disappear like this.
Year 293, February 4
Why did God grant me this kind of power?
I don’t want to do anything.
What is Sir Jit doing now? He told me to contact him.
I shouldn’t have accepted his confession.
My heart feels so uncomfortable.
Just as expected, every entry was gloomy. She flipped forward several pages.
Year 293, January 3
Today, I saw the existence called “Orbs” for the first time.
They were far away, but are they really bad people?
They looked just like us.
Still, thanks to His Highness the Crown Prince, I was able to escape the discomfort today.
I feel sorry and grateful every time.
I wish every day could be like today.
Year 292, November 29
I received a confession from Young Master Jit Tresh.
It was my first time ever being confessed to, so I was completely flustered.
But I’ve only seen him a few times, so I don’t really know him…
What should I do?
I’ll apologize and talk to him again tomorrow.
Year 292, November 18
I went to the temple today.
It was nice being able to open my heart to His Holiness.
But what was that faint sense of darkness I felt?
Did he step away somewhere briefly?
I must have imagined it.
Knock, knock.
Startled by the sound, Ritia quickly returned the diary to its original place, stood up, and hastily fixed her hair.
“Ritia, it’s Father.”
When she opened the door, Duke Mont stood there, gazing down at her with his usual indifferent expression.
The moment their eyes met, his face softened with concern.
“Ah, please come in.”
“Yes. Have you been resting well?”
Duke Mont sat down on the sofa. Ritia followed and took the seat across from him.
“Yes, of course.”
“How is your body?”
“I feel much better after resting.”
“That’s good. You must have been frustrated. Let’s go out and get some fresh air together today.”
“Fresh air?”
Was she finally being allowed outside?
Going out with her father was a bit unsettling—but going out at all was better than nothing.
“Yes. There’s somewhere we can go together. A commemorative festival is being held at Atheon Hall for the next month starting today. We’ll soon be busy with the Oracle of Light, so let’s at least attend the evening banquet and get some air.”
A festival.
She remembered being shocked when she first read about it. In years when the Oracle of Light was revealed, the celebrations were said to be enormous—this was just one of them.
The banquet being held now was merely a prelude.
The commemorative festival, including the eve celebration, lasted a full month. Then, after the Oracle concluded, another month-long after-festival followed.
That meant more than two months of pure celebration.
Even if it only happened once every ten years and was the largest event in Atheon, two months still seemed excessive.
Moreover, Duke Mont wasn’t taking his stifled daughter out for her sake—he was taking her to show society that his daughter, rumored to be unstable, was perfectly fine.
But for now, this was her only way out.
If she refused, there was no telling when the restriction would be lifted. And since she currently had nothing at her disposal, she needed to stay on the good side of Duke Mont—the most powerful person in this household—to gain anything at all.
Now that she had become Ritia, she would have to carve out her own path to survival.
Besides, the original Ritia would have timidly agreed anyway.
“I’d love to. I’ve been feeling stifled—thank you so much, Father.”
Ritia lowered her eyes and answered obediently. Duke Mont’s lips curved into a satisfied smile.
Seeing that expression, she felt a strange mix of pity and relief. How indifferent had he been, not to notice his daughter had changed entirely? Still, it eased her heart. The guilt of taking over someone else’s body, the fear of being discovered—they both dulled slightly.
“I’m glad you’re pleased. Then prepare yourself, and we’ll meet at eight.”
“Yes, Father. I’ll be ready.”
With his business done, Duke Mont rose without hesitation.
As he turned and left, Ritia discreetly flipped him off behind his back—then waited for someone to come assist with her preparations.
* * *
“Miss, do you remember me…? I’m Emilia.”
The woman who introduced herself stared at her with watery eyes. Emilia—the maid who had been punished and confined ever since the day Ritia fell into the lake. She was also the only surviving servant among those who had attended and protected Ritia.
Her chestnut hair, tied into two thick braids down to her waist, was a mess, strands stuck to her tear-soaked face.
“Ah… I lost my memory, so… I’m sorry.”
“No! I’m the one who should be sorry! If only I had listened to your request back then… I’m so sorry, Miss. I thought you’d never wake up. When they pulled you out of the lake—your body was so cold…!”
Ritia tilted her head slightly as she comforted her. Maybe she could learn more about what had happened.
“What request? Did I ask you for something?”
“Well…”
“It’s okay. Tell me. I don’t remember anything.”
Emilia sniffed hard and slowly spoke.
“You said… you wanted to run away. But I didn’t have the power to help you. I’m so sorry. I really thought you were gone forever… lying there in the lake…”
Unable to continue, Emilia dropped to her knees and clutched the hem of Ritia’s dress, crying and apologizing over and over.
“It’s okay. I won’t make that kind of choice again.”
“…Really? You promise? You won’t do something so scary ever again?”
Ritia nodded gently, reassuring her.
Emilia cried on, saying she’d been terrified, haunted by nightmares every day of something happening to Ritia.
“Then… will you help me get dressed? And stay by my side to help me recover my memories?”
Emilia wiped her face and sprang up.
“Yes! Of course! I’ll go get your dress right away!”
Ritia watched her hurry out, then slowly stood.
* * *
The chandeliers illuminating Atheon Hall—the largest banquet hall—shone as brilliantly as a cascade of stars. It felt as though all the splendor of the world had been gathered here solely for celebration.
The central hall alone was so vast it felt like several grand rooms merged together. Walking from one wall to the other required real effort.
And that was only the main hall. Including the guest rooms and entertainment spaces, the full scale was immeasurable.
Beneath the dazzling chandeliers, even more dazzling dresses paraded like peacocks.
Among them was one woman who stood out as an uninvited guest.
Ritia Mont—the most talked-about young lady in the Atheon Empire, the treasured youngest daughter of the Mont family.
Accompanied by Duke Mont and Count Bazenti, Ritia entered to the elegant strains of a harp.
“Duke Mont, Count Bazenti, and Lady Ritia Mont are entering!”
At once, the lively hall fell silent, as if doused with cold water. Countless eyes fixed on Ritia.
“…She looks fine.”
“So it really was just a rumor.”
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
Ritia felt Duke Mont’s arm tense where she held onto him. He clicked his tongue softly.
“I’m fine, Father.”
She spoke reassuringly, and his expression eased.
“Do not let anyone notice that you’ve lost your memory.”
“I’ll be careful.”
Using his daughter like an accessory, Duke Mont strode forward through the stares. Among them were particularly sharp gazes—faces half-hidden behind fans, eyes filled with malice.
Ritia passed them calmly.
They were all thinking the same thing.
‘She tried to kill herself by jumping into a lake—and she’s alive and well?’
Ritia clenched her fist, steeling herself.
She had been given this chance—she couldn’t waste it. She had to survive here.
Holding her head high, Ritia lifted her chin defiantly.
