Chapter 42: Livia or Alia?

After washing up, Alia lay down in her soft bed, wearing loose sleepwear. Although her body was weary, her thoughts churned like restless waves, refusing to calm. Closing her eyes, she recalled the day's events, a faint smile curling her lips. Spending time with Lianna, eating and shopping, had provided a rare moment of relaxation, allowing her to briefly cast off the heavy burden on her shoulders and feel like an ordinary person again. Meeting her past life's companions stirred a sense of nostalgia, even if they no longer recognized her. Moreover, discovering Eryx's house and uncovering a long-hidden secret had made the day undeniably fruitful.

Yet, as she reflected on concealing her identity from those companions, a vague unease took hold. She opened her eyes abruptly, staring at the ceiling as a deliberately ignored question surfaced in her mind: in this timeline, where was the "Alia" who belonged to this reality?

A wave of icy terror crashed over her, paralyzing her limbs. Cold sweat soaked her back as her fingers clutched the blanket tightly. Fragments of her previous life flitted through her mind, but one haunting memory stood out: about a year from now, she had been killed by Marcellus within this castle. Gritting her teeth, she took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising panic, yet the question jabbed at her thoughts like needles. By this timeline, shouldn't the "Alia" of this world still be alive? Then why didn't I see her today when I met those old friends?

The more she dwelled on it, the more dread consumed her. Chills ran down her spine, seeming to seep into the room itself. Possibilities crowded her mind: had this world's Alia left the city? Had her own soul's arrival erased the original Alia? Or was this linked to a deeper, incomprehensible mechanism?

Her body trembled uncontrollably, suffocating as if the castle's air had thinned. Just as the fear reached its peak, Alia forced herself to take a deep, steadying breath.

"Calm down, calm down…" she murmured, wrapping her arms around herself, pulling her thoughts away from those unfathomable questions. Perhaps this world's Alia was simply somewhere she didn't know. Or maybe her soul's arrival had naturally replaced her counterpart. Regardless, this was beyond her understanding. Since it couldn't be changed, she had no choice but to accept it.

Closing her eyes once more, Alia let the images in her mind blur and fade. She stopped trying to solve the riddle and chose instead to focus on the present. At least she knew who she was—she was Alia, the person standing here now. As for the Alia of this timeline, she no longer had the means to seek an answer.

Carrying these conflicting emotions, Alia gradually allowed her exhausted body to relax, drifting into a deep sleep. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on her face. Her expression, calm yet determined, suggested that no matter how daunting the riddles of fate, she would confront them head-on.

In her dream, Alia was frolicking on a grassy field with Red and a group of old friends. Sunlight filtered through the trees, warming their laughter-filled moments. Everything felt carefree and beautiful, a fleeting glimpse of the freedom she had once cherished in her past life.

But the idyllic scene didn't last. One of her friends suddenly froze, their smile stiffening. They pointed at her and shouted, "Who are you? Why are you pretending to be one of us?"

The others stopped, their playful expressions turning to suspicion as they surrounded her. Alia instinctively stepped back, unease and panic washing over her. She tried to explain, but no words escaped her lips.

Then she heard the sound of rushing water. Looking down, she found herself standing at the edge of a crystal-clear river. Slowly, she leaned forward, peering into the water. The reflection staring back was not her own—it was Livia's face.

"How is this possible…" she whispered, her lips trembling, unable to produce a sound. The river's ripples distorted the image, but Livia's face remained clear, etched with an undeniable familiarity. Alia reached out, trying to wipe it away, but the harder she tried, the more vivid it became. Her friends' gazes grew colder, their suspicion hardening into hostility as they closed in, demanding, "Who are you? What are you trying to do?"

A sharp cry pierced the air, jolting Alia awake. She gasped for breath, her forehead damp with sweat. The room was bathed in morning light, the rising sun driving away the shadows of her nightmare.

Sitting on the bed, Alia hugged her knees, her mind still replaying fragments of the dream. The image of Livia's face in the water left her shaken and confused. She couldn't help but wonder: was she unknowingly being assimilated into this body's identity? The carefree moments with Lianna yesterday—the ease with which she'd adapted to and even enjoyed the life of a noble—did it mean she was gradually losing sight of who she truly was?

"No," she muttered firmly, her gaze hardening.

Clenching her fists, she reminded herself not to be deceived by her current circumstances. She was Alia, not Livia—not the owner of this castle, nor a carefree noblewoman. She was a thief, someone who had survived her previous life through wit and courage. In this new life, she would continue to live by that identity, uncover the truth, and seize control of her destiny. She refused to let herself be molded by her environment.

Taking a deep breath, Alia got out of bed and walked to the window. The sunlight warmed her face, dispelling the lingering fear and doubt. She knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but she also knew retreat wasn't an option. To navigate the tangled web of fate, she had to remain steadfast and clear-headed. Only by staying true to herself could she carve out her own path.

With that resolve, Alia turned and began preparing for the day. No matter how many mysteries or dangers awaited, she vowed to become the master of her fate, not a pawn of circumstance.