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"... That's what she said."

The young girl with long, straight mint hair, curling at the ends, sat quietly and elegantly while listening to the report from the male servant, her hand still gripping a beautiful teacup that was already half full. Her face slowly began to frown slightly.

Meanwhile, Alisa, the lovely Marchioness of the luxurious residence sitting across from her, let out a heavy sigh as she listened to the same report.

"Poor my baby..." she muttered, glancing at the cheerful young lady, who was the same age as her daughter but now wore a worried expression.

"I'm sorry, Cecillia. Eleanor's condition requires at least a month to recover," she continued in a soft voice, on the verge of tears as she recalled her daughter's plight after the accident.

Cecillia, the mint-haired girl, attentively reached for her handkerchief from the pocket of her purple dress and offered it to the beautiful middle-aged woman in front of her.

Marcioness Alisa weakly accepted the outstretched handkerchief and used it to wipe the corners of her tear-filled blue eyes.

Once she ensured the Marchioness had calmed down, Cecillia spoke gently.

"If I had known her condition was this severe, I should have brought a different gift, something more meaningful than mere accessories."

Marchioness Alisa shook her head with a bittersweet smile. "It's alright. Didn't you say Eleanor wanted that accessory but couldn't get it because it was a limited edition when she was at the academy? She must be delighted to have received it now."

Cecillia nodded with relief, taking a sip of the sweet tea before looking at Marchioness Alisa. "But I'm afraid she may have forgotten about it because of this accident, Marchioness," she said quietly, recalling the news that Eleanor had fallen from a horse and hit her head.

"Ah, according to a maid who accompanied her, Eleanor experienced symptoms of amnesia briefly after she fainted!" Marchioness Alisa's radiant face turned pale as if she had just remembered something horrific upon speaking those words.

"I'm terribly sorry, Cecillia. Let's end this talk for now. I need to call another doctor to reassess Eleanor's condition," Marchioness Alisa said, rising gracefully despite the worry etched on her face.

"I will ask my father to send our physician to check on Eleanor as well." Cecillia also stood, her movements equally graceful, with no wrinkles at the edge of her elegant purple dress.

Marchioness Alisa smiled in relief and nodded, while the maids stood alertly behind her, aware that the conversation between the two esteemed ladies had concluded and it was time to proceed with cleaning the room.

"Thank you; the Duke family's doctor will surely be an invaluable help to Eleanor."

"I sincerely hope Eleanor recovers soon so we can be together again like when we were little," Cecillia said earnestly before she took her leave from Gwendolyn's luxurious residence with her personal maid.

***

"... uh?"

I blinked several times, a confused expression on my face, as I noticed three strangers standing by my bed. I had been preparing to take a nap after enjoying a simple lunch on my room's balcony, soaking in the strange atmosphere of this world.

Initially, I considered getting up to confront these uninvited guests, but I ultimately chose to remain calm and comfortable on the soft bed, pulling the thick blanket up to my shoulders while leaning against the headboard. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my maid, Tina, standing guard at the entrance with a few other maids, which eased my nerves. They seemed calm, too.

"Who are you?" I finally asked, ensuring the three individuals were neatly dressed in attire resembling that of a doctor, rather than the suspicious garments typical of intruders with ill intentions.

I suddenly recalled that one of the strangers was someone I had seen the previous night.

"Doctor Vincent, right?" I said, directing my gaze toward one of the middle-aged men wearing glasses.

He was Gwendolyn's family doctor, who had examined me upon my arrival at Gwendolyn's luxurious residence last night on the instructions of Elandro, the Marquis—my father in this world.

Vincent nodded politely. "Your ability to recognize me and recall my name indicates that the possibility of your amnesia has greatly diminished, Lady Eleanor." He smiled, looking relieved, as if he were witnessing his own daughter's recovery.

I was about to inquire about what had happened and who the other two people were when one of the strangers, a middle-aged woman with neatly tied black hair, interjected to firmly counter Vincent's statement.

"Not necessarily. Lady Eleanor may recognize you because you met her last night. However, she may not recall memories related to others she has not seen since the accident. Therefore, we need to assess her memories from before the incident," she asserted confidently.

Vincent's lips curled slightly as he calmly corrected her analysis. "Lady Eleanor also recognizes the Marquis and Marchioness. While in this residence, she exhibited no signs of amnesia whatsoever, demonstrating familiarity with the rooms and spaces. Rochelle, you should consider practical evidence alongside your theories."

The woman named Rochelle gritted her teeth at Vincent's retort and spoke again, refusing to back down. "But her maid reported that when Lady Eleanor regained consciousness after fainting a few hours post-accident, she seemed disoriented, unable to recognize her surroundings or the people near her."

"That reaction is common among patients who suffer head injuries, Rochelle. Have you forgotten this?"

"Stop treating me like a peer, Vincent! We should focus on confirming Lady Eleanor's memories after the accident."

"..."

I could only stare, astonished, at the two doctors who were embroiled in a heated debate about the condition of a lady named Eleanor.

'Ah, Eleanor is me; I'm still not getting used to that...' I mused, reflecting on my experience in Gwendolyn's grand multi-story residence.

Thanks to some fairly clear memories retained in Eleanor's body, I was adapting as if I were the true Eleanor within this luxurious mansion. However, certain memories remained blurry, prompting me to avoid specific rooms until I felt secure enough to explore, rather than arousing suspicion from those in the residence.

'Should I pretend to have partial amnesia so they don't grow suspicious when I act as if I don't know something I should?' I pondered, my ears still catching snippets of the ongoing argument between the two doctors regarding my own memories within my room.

'By the way, it seems that Doctor Rochelle holds a prominent position or is particularly confident in her abilities, given how daringly she debates with Vincent, who is Gwendolyn's family doctor....' I concluded briefly, my gaze landing on the remaining stranger, who stood silently with a look of confusion as Vincent and Rochelle continued their argument.

I restrained myself from giving a pitying stare to the young doctor, who appeared intimidated by the two individuals engaged in a heated debate. One spoke with confidence, while the other remained calm and precise, each demonstrating their own knowledge and abilities.

Feeling the need to mediate their discussion, I pondered the right words to say, my head throbbing slightly. This recurring pain served as a reminder that my body had nearly lost its life after falling from a horse and sustaining a head injury.

"I appreciate your concern for my daughter's condition, but I hope you can refrain from arguing loudly in front of her," a serene voice, familiar to my ears, interrupted the debate. The atmosphere in the spacious room shifted dramatically, falling silent at her words, save for the sound of footsteps approaching.

I turned to see a stunning middle-aged woman in a red dress, walking elegantly into the room, while the three doctors bowed respectfully at her presence.

"Greetings, Marchioness Gwendolyn," they said in unison.

Marchioness Alisa nodded briefly and then sat on the edge of my bed, her gentle hands cupping my cheeks, now flushed with color.

"You look troubled, my dear. Does your head still hurt?" she asked anxiously.

I nodded softly. "It hurts occasionally," I admitted.

Her expression turned more anxious, and she glanced at the three doctors. "Please, check Eleanor's condition once more."

"Yes, Marchioness," they responded, eager to oblige.

Marchioness Alisa then turned back to me, her motherly gaze filled with affection. She began to introduce the doctors to calm my nerves. "This is Doctor Rochelle, a highly skilled physician from the Duke Emmeline family. Cecillia requested that the Duke send her to you, so make sure to thank Cecillia later." She gestured toward Rochelle, a middle-aged woman with neatly tied black hair.

"They are three skilled physicians, each an expert in their field, bringing their own perspectives to your care. With their help, I'm sure you will recover quickly, so there's no need to worry, my dear," Marchioness Alisa reassured me with a warm smile.

I nodded, beginning to understand the situation better.

"What about the one next to her?" I asked softly, indicating the young doctor who had once appeared uncertain but now stood confidently alongside the two esteemed physicians.

Marcioness Alisa chuckled. "Ah, that's Rui. He was the sole student of the Imperial family's head physician and has now been promoted to head physician of the Imperial military forces. I asked your father to find a doctor with experience in cases like yours."

'I—Imperial family?'

Listening to her explanation, I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me.

'I'm sorry for judging him based solely on appearances!' I thought, instinctively lowering my gaze.

After fielding several questions and responding perfunctorily to signal my fatigue, the three doctors finally took their leave, documenting their examinations for future reference.

'The power of the Gwendolyn family is truly formidable. How could they so easily call upon doctors from such prestigious families?'

"I hope the results are fine…" Marchioness Alisa murmured, still seated beside me. I turned to her with a small smile.

Noticing my smile, Marchioness Alisa returned it with an equally beautiful one. "I heard you declined Cecillia's visit. Don't you remember her?"

I pondered how to respond but ultimately chose to answer ambiguously. "Just a little…"

I felt uneasy about admitting that I had no recollection of her at all, sensing that the heroine might return soon if I did.

'I must keep my distance from her for as long as possible until I gather enough information to avoid raising any suspicions,' I resolved internally.

After all, apart from family, Cecillia was the only one who knew Eleanor best; it wouldn't be surprising if she one day noticed something unusual about the current Eleanor—the Eleanor I had possessed.

It was tragically ironic to think that the person closest to you could also be the one who led you into misfortune…