Chapter 19: A Moment of Warmth

Alia's heart pounded in her chest like a war drum. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, then at the pair of tender eyes gazing at her from behind. For a fleeting moment, she felt a pang of hesitation: perhaps she could set aside her dangerous doubts, leave behind the bitter memories of her past life, and choose to stay here in the castle, living a peaceful and happy life with Marcellus.

After all, Marcellus's gentleness and care didn't seem like a façade. She could feel the sincerity of his affection, a warmth so genuine it was like a campfire in the dead of night, coaxing her weary soul to long for solace and dependability.

Yet, that hesitation lasted only a heartbeat before Alia snapped herself back to reality. Taking a deep breath, she buried the momentary softness within.

"Don't be foolish, Alia," she silently chided herself.

No matter how deeply this man seemed to care for her, his love was for "Livia," not "Alia." She was merely a soul occupying Livia's body, always an impostor, never truly belonging to his world. More importantly, the bloody memories of her past life clung to her like an unshakable nightmare. That night, Marcellus had pulled the trigger with his own hand, killing Livia without mercy—and with her, Alia's life had ended in the chaos.

No matter how flawless his demeanor might be now, she couldn't ignore the cold truth: this man had taken her life once before and could do so again.

"If I choose to trust him, to lean on him and indulge in this affection, I'll only be walking into the same trap," Alia reminded herself sternly.

She forced herself to regain composure, her gaze cooling as she tucked her emotions away. While she could temporarily accept his displays of affection or even use his feelings to her advantage, she couldn't allow herself to sink into them. Her mission remained her priority. This affection was a dangerous vortex that could swallow her whole, leaving her with nothing—not even her life.

What she needed now was clarity and resolve.

"Hmph, don't think you can fool me so easily," Alia huffed, feigning annoyance. But her tone grew softer, almost lacking conviction. Watching Marcellus's earnest expression, half her irritation dissipated. She turned her head slightly, silently acquiescing and letting the matter drop.

Marcellus chuckled at her puffed-up cheeks and defiant attitude, his voice tinged with amusement. "My dear, I've noticed that since you woke up, you've become livelier, more spirited. You are truly wonderful now."

He took a few steps closer, his voice lowering with a hint of indulgence. "Here at home, there's no need to hold back. Perhaps what happened recently has allowed you to truly free the parts of yourself you've kept hidden."

Alia froze momentarily at his words, her heart rippling with mixed emotions. She knew she had to act as though she were Livia, but her personality and instincts had inevitably shaped the way she portrayed the role. Whether due to her innate nature or the environment's influence, her performance as Livia had taken on shades of her true self.

Still, in a world where resurrection was a reality, who could say there wasn't a way to discern a soul's true identity? The thought made Alia more vigilant than ever. She carefully studied Marcellus's expression, finding no trace of suspicion or anger—only acceptance of her newfound demeanor.

Relieved but cautious, she followed his lead, responding naturally. "You're right. Since waking up, I do feel like a weight has been lifted, as if life's second chance has taught me to treasure it more. I don't want to suppress myself any longer."

Her tone carried a tinge of sincerity and reflection, as though her words stemmed from the depths of her heart. To complete the act, she gently touched her necklace, a gesture of savoring her regained freedom.

"Yes, my dear, there's no need to dwell on the past. I'm here for you," Marcellus reassured her gently, his deep, resonant voice wrapping around her like a protective cocoon. He placed his warm hand over hers, the heat from his fingers conveying an unspoken promise: as long as he was by her side, she had nothing to fear.

Alia looked up at him, a faint smile gracing her lips. Yet, behind her calm demeanor, she was parsing the layers of meaning in his words. The warmth of the moment lingered until Marcellus's gaze turned more profound, as if seeking to deepen their connection.

Before he could act further, a soft knock interrupted them. A servant entered with hurried steps, breaking the mood. Marcellus's expression tightened slightly, his irritation barely perceptible, but he managed a polite smile for Alia before stepping aside to converse with the servant.

Alia couldn't make out their hushed conversation, but she noticed the gradual furrow in Marcellus's brow.

What news could cause such concern? Feigning nonchalance, Alia cast a sidelong glance, attempting to glean clues from his reaction.

After a moment, Marcellus returned to her, his tone still gentle but tinged with regret. "My dear, I must attend to some urgent matters. I won't be able to return to the castle tonight." He hesitated briefly, as though gauging her reaction, then added, "I've already instructed Elise about the ball's arrangements. You needn't worry—she'll report to you if anything comes up."

Alia nodded lightly, keeping her expression composed. "All right, go ahead. I'll handle everything here."

Marcellus leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his breath warm against her skin. The tenderness lingered even as he turned and left, the comforting warmth gradually fading.

Watching his retreating figure, a flicker of complexity flashed through Alia's eyes.

She let out a quiet sigh. This fragile warmth… how long can it last? I only hope that one day, I'll truly find freedom.