Threads Of Trust.

A full week had passed since that night—since I woke from the coma.

This morning, like every other, Nirelle came into my room as the soft sunlight crept past the curtains. Her familiar knock echoed softly before she stepped in with her usual warm greeting.

"Good morning, Lady Liora. It's time to rise."

She helped me out of bed, then guided me through my morning bath. The warm water soothed my limbs as she carefully washed my hair and helped me dress in a fresh gown of ivory and pale lilac. Afterward, she brought my breakfast, placing it neatly on a silver tray and began preparing my medicine in the background.

Once I finished, I moved to the window as I always did. The breeze fluttered through the sheer curtains. Nirelle brought me a small stack of books—histories of the Empire, noble etiquette, the social hierarchy—and set them on the reading desk across from the bed. It was carved elegantly from pale cream and light brown wood, its surface wide enough for letters and study.

Normally, I would begin reading right after breakfast. But today was different.

Today, the physician was coming for my weekly check-up.

After finishing the last of my herbal tea and stretching my legs with a brief walk around the room, I sat down on the bed to wait. Moments later, there was a knock at the door.

"My Lady," Nirelle said softly, poking her head in. "The physician and Sir Bertram are here."

"Let them in," I replied gently.

The door opened wider with a soft creak, and the two men entered.

Sir Bertram stepped in first and bowed politely. "Good morning, Lady Liora. How are you feeling today?"

He was an older man—perhaps around fifty—with neatly combed light-black hair and calm, deep brown eyes. As always, he wore a crisp black butler's uniform, tailored with elegance and worn with quiet dignity. His voice was steady, low, and comforting.

"I'm feeling better than yesterday, Sir Bertram. Thank you for asking," I said with a soft smile.

He gave a small, approving nod, stepping aside as the physician approached.

The physician—an aging man with steady hands and a thoughtful face—sat beside me and began the check-up. He checked my pulse, my eyes, and asked a few questions about dizziness, sleep, and strength.

After examining me carefully after several quiet minutes, he finally leaned back with a nod. "You're recovering well, My Lady," he said warmly. "You've always had a frail constitution, but your progress has been remarkable. Another week of rest, and I believe you'll be strong enough to resume your daily routine. You may begin light activities and even walks in the estate gardens."

"That's wonderful news," I said, genuinely relieved. "But… could you reduce the amount of medicine I take?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

I smiled apologetically. "Your medicine is very effective—but it makes me sleep too deeply. I feel like I'm always drowsy."

The physician chuckled softly. "Ah, that would be the calming herbs. Very well. I'll prescribe only one dose, to be taken after dinner."

"Thank you," I said with a light smile.

"I'll return next week to check on your progress. Please take care, My Lady." he said before rising and offering a parting bow. Then, he left the room.

Bertram remained, hands folded behind his back.

"My Lady," he asked with a gentle voice, "is there anything you require?"

I glanced toward the desk thoughtfully. "Yes, Bertram. I'd like paper and a pen… and guidance on how to write a formal letter."

His brows lifted slightly in surprise. "A letter…?"

Then he quickly composed himself. "Very well, My Lady. I shall bring the writing materials. If you'd like, I can assist you with the structure and etiquette of formal correspondence. When would you like me to return to help?"

I smiled. "After lunch would be fine."

He tilted his head slightly. "If I may ask... who are you planning to write to, My Lady?"

I looked at him, eyes calm but firm. "I'm writing a letter to the Emperor."

His eyes widened. "T-To His Majesty…?"

I chuckled at his reaction. "It's not what you think. Don't worry—I trust that you'll help me, Sir Bertram."

There was a pause. His expression softened. "You… trust me?"

I nodded slowly. "Yes. I don't know why I said it out loud just now, but I do. Maybe… because I've seen how loyal you are to the Duke—and to me. You've always been a trustworthy presence, even when others weren't."

He bowed his head deeply. "That... means more than I can say, My Lady. And please forgive me if I overstepped earlier. I was only surprised."

"There is no need to apologise," I said gently.

"You've always been kind to me. Even before I fully woke up, I felt it... that you were someone I could rely on."

His eyes softened.

I remembered it clearly—on the third day after I awoke in this body, I was still struggling with the rules of this world. There had been a knock on the door, and I thought it was Nirelle.

"Come in," I'd called groggily.

But it was him—Sir Bertram.

He had bowed with grace and introduced himself. "I am Bertram Hawkes, of House Hawkes. Butler of this estate. I heard you've awakened… though with memory loss."

I had stared at him, still adjusting.

"I was not in the estate when the news arrived," he continued. "If I had been, I would have come immediately. You may not recall me, but I have served you for many years. It is a relief to see you well."

I had nodded slowly. "I'm recovering some memories, Sir Bertram. The physician says they'll return in time, so there's no need to worry."

He had studied me carefully and asked, "You look troubled. May I help?"

I had told him, "I need books—ones about the empire, etiquette, noble laws. Everything."

Without hesitation, he'd replied, "I will bring books on noble etiquette first. Once you've read those, I'll return with the next."

Before he had left that day, I had said something unexpected.

"Sir Bertram, please… call me Lady Liora. Not 'My Lady.' If you truly know me and care for me, then don't distance yourself with titles—just because there's another girl in this house now."

He had looked genuinely surprised. "It's not… as your family intends to bring in another—"

I had cut him off firmly. "I'm not talking about the Duke. Or the Lords. Or that girl. I'm speaking only for myself. Please understand."

He had paused for a long moment… and then bowed low with a smile. "You've changed, Lady Liora."

"I have," I'd said quietly.

Before leaving, he had told me, "If you ever need anything—anything at all—just call for me. I will be there."

Now, back in the present, I walked slowly to the window. The sky outside was sunny, but dotted with soft grey clouds. A strange quiet had settled in my chest.

How quickly life can change…

One dream. One night. And nothing is ever the same again.

Or maybe… it wasn't a dream at all.

That vision I had that night—it wasn't fantasy. It was a warning.

A glimpse of a future where Liora dies.

No… where I die.

The night Nirelle left my side and I fell into a deep sleep, I had seen something.

Something terrible.

I still can't explain what I saw—but I know it wasn't a dream.

It was a memory of the future.

A cruel fate waiting quietly… if I dared to live as the old Liora once did.

And that, I could no longer allow.

.