Until You Remember Everything

As Ramiro gently but firmly guided Luzia's hand, she glared up at him, her golden eyes narrowing into slits. "Is this really necessary?" she muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with exasperation.

Ramiro, utterly oblivious to her frustration, nodded solemnly. "Of course, my dear. This is a fundamental skill for a lady of your station."

Luzia huffed, her grip on the fork loosening as she reluctantly let him adjust her fingers. "It's a fork, not a weapon. I don't need a full lesson in wielding it."

Ramiro arched a brow, his expression calm but firm. "Every tool has its purpose, Luzia. Mastering even the simplest ones is a step toward refinement."

The room was so silent that the sound of the fork scraping against the plate seemed deafening. Behind them, Aurelio struggled to suppress his laughter, his shoulders shaking. Beatriz shot him a glare so sharp it could have cut steel.

"Well," Luzia said dryly, "I'm glad to know that my inability to stab a carrot properly is a matter of national importance."

Ramiro ignored her sarcasm, his focus unwavering. With his guidance, the fork finally speared a roasted carrot, and Luzia raised it triumphantly to her mouth. She chewed slowly, glaring at him the entire time.

"There," she said, swallowing dramatically. "Mission accomplished. Can we eat in peace now?"

Ramiro smiled, his expression softening into one of paternal pride. "See? That wasn't so difficult."

"Speak for yourself," Luzia muttered.

As Ramiro returned to his seat, the tension in the room eased slightly, though the staff still exchanged wide-eyed glances. Beatriz quickly signaled for the next course to be served, eager to move past the awkwardness.

Luzia took a deep breath and picked up the fork again, her grip firm but careful. Determined to avoid any more "lessons," she focused all her energy on the task. Slowly but surely, she managed to spear a piece of roasted carrot, lifting it to her lips without incident. Encouraged, she tried another bite, then another. Her movements were stiff and overly cautious, but at least the food stayed on the fork this time.

"You're doing well," Ramiro said, his voice filled with pride. His hands twitched as if about to clap, his expression lighting up with excitement.

Luzia froze mid-bite, her fork hovering halfway to her mouth. 'Oh no. Please, no.' Her golden eyes narrowed as she caught the telltale motion.

"Please don't start clapping," she said flatly.

Ramiro paused, his hands frozen mid-air like a puppet caught in the act. He let out a sheepish laugh, dropping them back to his lap. "Of course not," he said, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him.

Luzia sighed, setting her fork down with a quiet clink. 'This man is unbelievable.' She cast a quick glance around the table. Aurelio was barely holding it together, his shoulders shaking as he smothered a laugh behind his hand. Even Beatriz, ever composed, was biting her lip, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Luzia's cheeks flushed, a mix of irritation and embarrassment creeping up her neck. "Great," she muttered, half to herself. "Now I'm dinner entertainment."

'That's not the case, my lady… You're just too cute.' Aurelio and Beatriz thought simultaneously, though neither dared to voice the sentiment.

The dinner continued. Luzia, despite her initial reluctance, found herself relaxing—though she'd never admit it. Ramiro, for all his dramatics, seemed genuinely pleased to be sharing this moment with her.

As the final course was served, Luzia leaned back in her chair, her appetite finally sated. She glanced at Ramiro, who was watching her with an expression that was equal parts pride and relief.

"You're staring," she said flatly.

Ramiro chuckled, his voice warm. "I'm just happy you're here, Luzia."

Her lips twitched, and for a moment, it seemed like she might smile. But instead, she shook her head and muttered, "You're impossible, Dad."

The word hung in the air for a moment, and Ramiro's face lit up like the sun breaking through a stormy sky. He opened his mouth to respond, but Luzia held up a hand.

"Don't get used to it," she said, her tone sharp but not unkind. "I only said it so you won't cry again."

Ramiro chuckled, his laugh echoing warmly through the dining room. "Fair enough, Luzia. Fair enough."

After dinner, Luzia sighed heavily as she stared at the canopy above her bed, the soft flickering light from the candles casting faint shadows on the walls. Her nightgown, simple and light, felt like an uncomfortable reminder of the things she couldn't control. She twisted the fabric in her hands, trying to distract herself from the thoughts creeping in.

Ramiro's parting words echoed in her mind, his usual cheerful optimism lingering in her mind. "Have a goodnight rest my dear." A brief, involuntary smile tugged at her lips, but it faded as quickly as it came.

'Nothing is happening like the novel... a loving father? Caring and warm household?'

' I wasn't expecting this at all. But, I guess I should be thankful... Unlike Princess Benedicta's life, I only had two people on my side—Catarina and Benedicta's younger brother, Crisanto...' Her breath hitched slightly. ' And in my life before entering this novel, I had no one... no mom... no dad...'

Her fingers trembled slightly, the weight of the memories pushing down on her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tide of emotions threatening to rise. She didn't have time for weakness.

'Tears?' she thought bitterly. 'No. I can't let it get to me.'

She forced herself to sit up, brushing away the thoughts and the unfamiliar sense of longing. 'By the way, that isn't important. I need to keep a close eye on Ivan, but how?' Her thoughts shifted back to the looming problem at hand.

The quiet room felt oppressive now, the silence pressing in around her. She rose from the bed and paced slowly, her mind working through the possibilities.

'Shall I make him my personal guard?' The thought was almost laughable—she didn't exactly trust him yet, and things were still unclear given how everything is different from the novel. But the idea kept circling in her head. If she had someone watching him... she could learn more about his true intentions.

But even that didn't feel like enough. 'What if he wasn't the one she needed to worry about?'

With a frustrated sigh, Luzia sank back into the bed. 'The day he tried to kill Luzia was the day Ramiro left for the magic tower... That's two weeks from now.'

"I'll make him my personal guard," she repeated quietly to herself as she went back to her bed.

A while after Luzia had drifted into a deep sleep, the room fell into an eerie stillness, broken only by the occasional whisper of wind that slipped through the slightly ajar window.

The cool breeze stirred the light curtains, and in its movement, a single strand of silver hair slipped from the person's head, gently falling onto Luzia's soft cheek.

The figure remained still at the edge of the bed, their gaze fixed tenderly upon Luzia. Their expression was unreadable, yet there was an unmistakable softness in the way they looked at her, as if her every breath, every subtle movement in her sleep, was the most precious thing in the world.

The person's hand twitched slightly, almost reaching out to brush away the stray hair from her cheek, but they paused, their fingers hovering in the air.

They lingered there for what seemed like hours, their eyes tracing the contours of her face—her brown lashes fluttering with each soft breath, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept soundly.

A quiet sigh escaped the figure. But still, they remained silent, not wanting to disturb the peaceful slumber that Luzia was finally granted.

'I will continue to watch over you until you remember everything,' the figure thought, their gaze lingering on her.

Just then, the door to her room creaked open, and the figure quickly vanished, slipping into the shadows like a wisp of smoke.

Ramiro walked into the room, his eyes immediately drawn to Luzia, who was sleeping peacefully. The sight of her so serene, her face soft with sleep, made something tighten in his chest. However, as he stepped further into the room, something caught his attention—faint traces of magic lingered in the air.

He furrowed his brow, scanning the room with a practiced gaze. The magic was subtle but unmistakable—someone had been here recently.

'Someone was here...' His mind raced. 'I should assign a guard for Luzia immediately, and most importantly, find an etiquette teacher for her.'

With a sigh, Ramiro thought, 'I should stay here for a while, just incase.'

He walked towards the chair in her room and sat there with a quiet sigh, settling into the chair as though it had always been his place.