Female lead is back

I just realized that I am a lot like a female lead. I woke up after a near-death experience with two years' worth of memories gone, and I have a husband and a lost child.

Callum never gave me an explanation. He avoided the question and told me to rest. Since then, he's been scarce, which seems suspicious.

I walked out of the cabin for the first time in the two weeks I've been here. Feeling much better and bored, I decided to explore since I didn't sustain many injuries despite 'falling from a cliff.' I wandered around, enjoying the peace and quiet, and the scenery was perfect for reading.

"I need a book," I mumbled. I wasn't sure where I was and wished I could get back home.

I heard the sound of horses approaching quickly and turned in their direction. I didn't expect to see anyone here; the place was so secluded. I was surprised that anyone else would come here.

Two horses carrying people dressed in unfamiliar uniforms appeared. From their outfits, I could tell they were knights.

"What are they doing here?" I wondered, walking out to observe. The knights stopped and began searching the area. They walked around and soon approached my direction, but the trees obscured me from view.

"What do we do?" one of them asked.

"If this keeps up, what will become of this nation?" his companion replied.

"Could this be an attack? Will there be war?"

"Who would dare?"

War? Attack? Will Garhian be okay? Who attacked us? What about my family? Lucy?

I had to find out what was going on. As a female lead, it isn't good to stay ignorant for so long; what if major scenes start and I don't know what's going on? That would ruin my story.

"Exc—" I started to say when someone covered my mouth. I struggled, but it was pointless.

"Calm down, I'll explain. Let's get out of here first," I heard Callum's voice. Every part of me wanted to run, but I decided to stay and hear him out.

"Did you hear something?" one of the knights asked. They looked around and started moving towards us.

Callum released me and led me back to the cabin. I remained silent throughout. My mind was urging me to flee, but I resisted, chalking it up to my trust issues.

"What was that?" I asked once we were outside the cabin.

"You need to avoid those soldiers," he said.

"Why?"

"They… I should have explained things to you earlier. I guess I'm just having a hard time accepting that you don't remember anything," he said. I wondered how that must feel and felt a pang of sympathy for him. Why did I jump? Or did I just slip?

"I heard them mention something about war or being attacked. I'm not sure. What's going on?" I asked.

"We're not in Garhian," he informed me.

"Huh? Then where are we?" I asked.

"Erries," he said. Erries… the Erries? The country of shifters?

"Then you're…" I stuttered, stepping back.

"I'm human," he said. I didn't know why I felt partially let down.

"But…"

"A year ago, the king suddenly went mad and started mistreating his subjects. Soon, he began forcing his soldiers to bring women to him, whether they were married or not. He married anyone he wanted. That's why we started staying here," he explained. This king must be a psychopath.

"That's why I should avoid them," I mused. "You never explained to me how and why we are married," I said, and he sighed.

"Let's go inside," he suggested.

"No," I shot back. I needed to understand what kind of story this was before I got too comfortable.

"I found you passed out on the streets when your stepmother kicked you out," he said. She did? That woman! Did father agree to that? Lucy? "I helped you get back on your feet, and you stayed with me for a while… and…"

"Lucy? What happened to her?" I asked.

"Lilien, I think you should sit down for a minute," he said.

"What happened to her?" I pressed.

"She… she died," he said, and my eyes widened.

"She… she…" There's no way. "You're lying," I stated, but something flashed in his eyes before his expression returned to one of sadness. "She can't be dead," I said, stepping back but tripping. I fell to the floor, staring into space.

I didn't need that information. I didn't need to know. Lucy can't be dead; she wouldn't leave me like that.

"Lilien," Callum called, and I looked up. He helped me up and led me inside. I no longer had the energy for anything.

'Why did Lucy die? How did she die?' I kept asking myself, but I couldn't find the answer. I didn't want to know either.

I lay in bed, crying silent tears. It's worse knowing that I forgot. I forgot what happened to my sister.

I didn't expect my story to take such a tragic turn. I had always envisioned it as something more vibrant, a narrative with twists and turns that led to a satisfying resolution. Instead, it had become a tale of sorrow, marked by loss and unanswered questions. I wanted my story to be more than just a series of unfortunate events; I wanted it to hold the promise of magic and miracles, where anything was possible. I had hoped for a plot where Lucy could be brought back, where there could be a fantastical solution to mend what was broken. But now, faced with the stark reality of her absence, I felt a profound sense of loss. I didn't get the chance to say goodbye, and I found myself grappling with the painful truth that I might never get that chance. I didn't want to face this finality, this inevitable goodbye that loomed over me like a dark cloud.

The weight of guilt pressed heavily on me. I couldn't shake the persistent thought that somehow, it was my fault. Lucy's death felt like a direct consequence of my own failures. I replayed the events in my mind, each moment a painful reminder of my inadequacy. If that woman hadn't discovered our whereabouts, if we had managed to keep hidden, we might have avoided the disaster that led to us being trapped in that burning building. The thought that my actions—or inactions—might have contributed to her fate was unbearable.

I kept wondering about my father. What had he said or done in response to these events? I couldn't fathom how such a catastrophic situation could unfold without him taking decisive action. His silence and apparent inaction left me with a growing sense of bewilderment and frustration. How could he remain passive while everything fell apart around us? His failure to act—or even to communicate the gravity of the situation—was incomprehensible. The unanswered questions about his role in this turmoil only added to the chaos of my emotions. I felt adrift, lost in a narrative that no longer made sense, struggling to find meaning and resolution amidst the confusion and pain.