“…”
After an instant’s pause, Rita lowered the shard and released the maid.
Hannah’s eyes were brimming with tears, her frame shivering as she darted a glance toward Leonhart. With his faint nod, she scrambled out into the corridor. Leonhart pulled the door shut without a sound and turned his attention back to his sister.
She seemed so delicate, small enough that he could practically wrap both hands around her. Yet the bearing she held and the iron in her gaze belonged to a scarred veteran who had endured ten winters in the trenches.
Just what had she been through while she was lost?
The thought pulled at his heart, but he kept his voice steady, pushing down the swarm of feelings inside.
“You were already dead to the world when we reached the manor last night. I had a maid wash you and change your garments, then let you sleep here in this guest wing. Nothing more happened.”
Leonhart turned the previous evening over in his memory. When they had arrived at the ducal residence, she was fast asleep on his back—or rather, completely unconscious. Leaving her in the maid's hands, Leonhart had taken the slip Lilietta wore and sought out the rest of his family.
Not everyone had been there to meet him. Their mother had only just come around after collapsing at the memorial service, leaving only his father and younger brother to sit by his side.
“Lilietta has come home, but she has no recollection of her early years. She insisted she isn’t Lilietta, claiming her name is Rita instead. She maintains that while the flesh may belong to Lilietta, the soul residing within it does not.”
As with most lineages of ancient blood, the House of Laskail kept a sacred relic to prove their descent. It was an enchanted heirloom called the Family Record—in their house, an exquisite basin cast with bronze reliefs resembling winding waters.
When a stray strand of hair brought by the maid touched the surface of the basin, the water stirred with light. The house crest rose from its depths: a violet iris wreathed in sheaves of golden grain. And over it, letters ignited with brilliance.
Lilietta del Nissa Laskail.
It offered undeniable proof that whoever shed that hair was not merely kin, but someone written into the Family Record since birth. Whatever she insisted about the spirit within, the flesh belonged to the lost daughter they had spent a decade seeking.
“Leon, are you convinced she truly is Lilietta? That spending ten years under another identity simply robbed her of her memories?”
“I am. That is what I believe.”
The Duke of Laskail deferred to his firstborn’s conviction. His younger brother, however, remained skeptical.
“She told you the body isn’t hers, didn’t she? That sounds like possession—a wandering spirit taking over. I’ve read about such practices in dark sorcery. What if something foul has taken Lili’s place?”
Following an arduous, drawn-out dispute, they had finally settled upon a course of action.
Returning to the moment, Leonhart took a seat on the parlor settee and gestured to the cushion opposite him.
“Sit with me, Rita. Let us speak.”
Taking deliberate steps, she dropped into the chair across from him, laying the jagged piece of glass right at her side where her hand could instantly find it.
Leonhart caught sight of the ruined mirror in the corner. Catching his gaze, Rita instinctively stiffened, blurting an explanation.
“I required a weapon. I’ll make good on the damages once I can.”
He parted his lips to dismiss it, but his eyes caught her palm, and his brow furrowed hard.
“You are bleeding.”
“What?”
Blinking, Rita looked down at her right hand. She had taken care when holding the shard, yet a clean crimson line ran across the skin.
Just how frail was this girl's skin?
Rita clicked her tongue in annoyance, but Leonhart was already reaching into his coat for a handkerchief, extending his hand toward her.
“Allow me to see it.”
“…”
Rita hesitated. Her eyes flickered over his features, mirroring her own in so many ways, before she silently laid her hand in his. Leonhart carefully pressed the clean cloth against the cut, wrapping it snug.
“It is shallow, thankfully. This will stem the flow. I shall have the house physician look after it properly later.”
“My apologies. I went and marked your sister’s skin.”
Leonhart’s hands froze as he tied the knot. Exhaling a breath, Rita murmured,
“I’ll take better care from now on. It’s not my flesh to ruin, after all.”
“…”
Leonhart remained quiet for a moment. He drew the knot tight, took back his hands, and after a measured breath, broke the silence.
“You claim you are not my sister.”
“I’m not. That’s the truth.”
“How can you be so certain?”
Rita turned her eyes toward the tall casement. Outside, rich sunlight flooded the earth under an endless vault of pristine blue.
“I suppose I ought to have given a proper introduction earlier. I’m Rita Pascal. Twenty-two years old.”
“Twenty-two?”
“Yes. How old is this girl? She looks barely grown.”
“Lilietta is twenty.”
“See? The years don’t match. And I looked nothing like this. My hair was reddish-brown, and my eyes were the exact same shade.”
“…”
“I belonged to the Children of Pascal, serving as vice commander of Beacon, an autonomous defense unit. We were stationed at the Final Defense Line.”
“Pascal… Final Defense Line…”
Leonhart murmured the names under his breath, his forehead creasing. Rita sighed quietly; she had anticipated this much.
“Just as I thought. My world must be entirely separate from yours. The terrain, how people survive… none of it aligns.”
“Another world? What do you mean by that…?”
“Do you know what a demonic beast is?”
Resting his chin against his hand, Leonhart stroked his jaw thoughtfully.
“We have monsters. But the phrase you used carries a strange ring to it.”
“Monsters? Such as orcs, goblins, trolls?”
“Essentially, yes.”
“I’ve only encountered those in children’s tales. Those are natural creatures, at any rate. Demonic beasts are a different nightmare altogether. They are corrupted abominations spawned by magical pollution—twisted beyond any law of nature. Have you ever faced anything like that?”
“Never.”
“…Then they don’t exist in this place. No wonder it feels so quiet and picturesque.”
She turned back toward the glass, gazing out at the open sky for a quiet spell. A faint, bittersweet curve touched her lips.
Leonhart swept a hand over his face, then spoke in a lower tone.
“And you… were raised in such a realm? Surrounded by those demonic beasts? What of your childhood?”
“My childhood? Only fragments remain. I was an ordinary stray, an orphan. Nothing unusual in a place like that.”
“Would you tell me about it?”
“Some other time. Right now, I need to understand where I am. I don’t even have your name yet.”
“Ah…”
Leonhart blinked, realizing he had gotten ahead of himself. Suppressing a breath, he offered a formal greeting.
“I am Leonhart del Nissa Laskail. Twenty-eight years of age, and eldest son to House Laskail. My father is Duke Waldemar del Regis Laskail, and my mother is Duchess Rosetta del Nissa Laskail. My younger brother, Richard, is two years my junior. The four of us make up Lilietta’s family.”
“Quite a mouthful. Grand names seem standard for nobility,” Rita remarked, offering a wry shrug. “Where I came from, lords and ladies only existed in storybooks. I know nothing of courtly manners, so you’ll have to make allowances.”
“You need not worry. I will arrange an instructor for you—someone who knows how to hold their tongue.”
“Pardon? You aren’t expecting me to study noble etiquette, are you?”
“From this day forward, you are a noble as well.”
“What?”
Rita stared at him, bewildered. Leonhart rested back against the sofa, clasping his fingers over one knee.
“Rita, you claim you hail from another realm, and that only your spirit was thrust into my sister’s flesh.”
“That’s how it seems, yes.”
“Do you understand why this occurred?”
“Not in the slightest. I was certain my life had ended. The next thing I knew, I was choking on lake water.”
“Which means you know of no way to reclaim your true form or return to where you belong.”
“…I don't.”
“Then why not assume Lilietta’s place for now?”
“Excuse me?”
“You have no means to return, and you hold no place in this world. Why not remain here as Lilietta of House Laskail? Fulfill the life owed to the vessel you inhabit.”
“Are you out of your mind—”
“Lilietta vanished when she was merely ten. We spent ten long years scouring the land for her. Only a few days ago did we finally surrender hope, holding rites over an empty casket. My mother collapsed from the grief of it all.”
“….”
“And now, after a decade of waiting, her child's body returns carrying an unfamiliar soul. I cannot imagine what the truth would do to her. If you were to simply vanish into the wind once more…”
“…”
“You follow what I am saying, don't you? If you are merely borrowing her vessel, I ask that you fulfill the duties that come with it.”
“Fulfill the duties…”
“Live as the daughter of House Laskail. In exchange, we will provide for you as our own. You will know only safety, comfort, and wealth.”
Rita scanned the chamber. Warm light drifted through the glass, bathing the opulent furnishings in a gentle glow. Living as a pampered noble in a world untouched by demonic beasts was an undeniably alluring prospect…
Yet familiar faces immediately crowded her mind. Her comrades, her recruits, her commanders, and—
“Don't! Damn it, Rita, don't do it! Please!”
She could still hear the desperate scream tearing through her final moments. The brother-in-arms who had stood beside her the longest. When the rest of their cohort was slaughtered, only the two of them had walked out alive.
Gide Pascal.
He used to laugh and say he could never survive without her. If she had truly fallen that day, the loss would shatter him.
If he had somehow survived that carnage, she had to return.
Beacon was a legion carved out entirely from Pascal's orphans. Children who had spilled blood and buried their dead on the front line since they were barely old enough to wield a blade. They had no hearths, no kin—only each other.
She could not idle away her days in silken luxury while they bled in that hell.
Rita shook her head firmly.
“No. I don’t intend to stay trapped in this skin forever. I’m going back home.”