".......,"
A satisfied smirk tugged at my lips as I switched off the choices function.
It seemed a little audacity was all it took to raise the prince's interest.
Though, I wasn't sure if that was necessarily a good thing.
Still, having some control over the situation – however limited – was a definite advantage.
୨⎯ " ??????'ʂ ΡσƲ " ⎯୧
My heart hammered against my ribs as I hurried down the hallway, the Grand Duke's summons echoing in my ears.
Ever since the news broke about the Duke's surprise interviews, the servants had been on edge.
"He wants every damn thing fixed!"
Some whispered, their voices laced with a mixture of fear and anticipation.
Was he preparing for a visit from royalty?
Or had some terrible secret come to light?
I, for one, couldn't fathom what had gotten into His Grace.
The Duke had always been a distant figure, a man of routine and stoicism.
His pronouncements were few and far between, delivered in a voice that brooked no argument.
This sudden flurry of activity, of individual meetings and inquiries, was completely out of character.
A shiver ran down my spine as I reached the heavy oak doors of the Duke's study.
Taking a deep breath, I knocked once, the sound resonating in the sudden silence that had fallen over the hallway.
"Enter,"
Came a voice from within, a voice that seemed different somehow, a hint of something… unfamiliar… beneath the usual sternness.
Steeling myself, I pushed open the door and stepped into the study.
The Duke sat behind his massive desk, his back straight.
His usual mask, a blank canvas that hid his emotions, was firmly in place.
Yet, there was something different in his posture, a subtle shift in his gaze that sent a jolt through me.
୨⎯ " (Ყ/ɳ)'ʂ ΡσƲ " ⎯୧
The door creaked open, announcing the arrival of Sandra, a young, redheaded maid.
I straightened in my chair.
"Sandra,"
I greeted, my voice firm yet laced with a hint of hidden amusement.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice."
Sandra, wide-eyed and slightly flustered, bowed deeply.
"Of course, Your Grace. It is an honor."
I gestured to the chair across from me.
"Please, have a seat. There's no need for formalities today. I simply wanted to have a chat."
Sandra's eyes widened further.
A chat?
With the Grand Duke?
This was unheard of.
Hesitantly, she perched on the edge of the chair, her posture rigid with nervous anticipation.
"Relax, Sandra,"
I said, a gentle smile playing on my lips, though it didn't quite reach my eyes almost hidden behind the mask.
"There's nothing to be afraid of. Tell me, how long have you been working in the Duchy?"
"Five years, Your Grace,"
Sandra stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
"Five years, huh?"
I steepled my fingers, feigning contemplation.
"And how would you rate your experience here?"
Sandra hesitated, her gaze flickering around the room before landing back on me.
"It's... it's been good, Your Grace. Everyone here is kind and helpful."
"Kind and helpful, you say?"
"Well,"
Sandra stammered, sensing a shift in the air.
"There have been a few... inconveniences, of course. But nothing major."
I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a low murmur.
"Inconveniences, you say. Perhaps you could elaborate?"
Sandra's eyes darted around the room once more, a flicker of worry crossing her face.
"Well..."
she began, then stopped, clearly unsure of where to begin.
"........,"
With a sigh, I sank into my chair and pulled out the notes I'd taken during the interviews.
Scanning the page, I absorbed the information I'd collected about the Grand Duke throughout the day.
Age: 26.
Interesting.
A mirror on the wall reflected a youthful face that didn't quite match the number.
Perhaps the years had been kinder to this body than my own who was only 20.
Another note caught my eye:
"Always wears a mask. Reason unknown."
Frustration bubbled within me.
This mask!
It was a constant reminder of whatever secrets His Gracw harbored.
The only solace was that a select few – my only younger sibling Kieran who's currently studying at the capital academy, trusted individuals such as Hans and the Head Butler – were allowed to see my face.
My gaze drifted to another line:
"Enjoys reading (especially history and philosophy)."
A flicker of surprise sparked within me.
Reading?
That wasn't something I indulged in much in my previous life.
Perhaps this Grand Duke had a side I wasn't aware of.
Reaching for a book on the shelf, I cracked it open, the scent of aged paper filling my senses.
As I delved into the philosophical book, a strange sense of calm washed over me.
Maybe this Duke wasn't so different from me after all.
We both craved knowledge, it seemed.
A slow smile spread across my face.
I had to play detective, to peel back the layers of this Duchy.
Me, the (former?) nobody, was now Duke Cha, and I was determined to get to the bottom of things, even if it meant turning this entire Duchy upside down.
The game had changed, and I was no longer just a character stuck in a pre-determined narrative.
The story was just beginning, and I was the author now, but the question remained:
Was I writing my own happily ever after, or a tragic downfall?
Exhaustion finally caught up to me after a long day of interviews.
I hurried up the stairs, the weight of the day clinging to me like a shadow.
Reaching my bedchamber, I closed the door with a soft thud.
Collapsing onto the luxuriously soft bed, I let out a long sigh.
It was only almost lunchtime, but the day had felt like a marathon.
My body ached with a pleasant fatigue, the kind that comes from mental suffering rather than physical labor.
Thoughts swirled in my head – the staff, the rumors, the secrets.
But with each passing moment, the pleasant exhaustion deepened, pulling me towards sleep.
'Food is important,'
A nagging thought buzzed in the back of my mind,
'but right now…'
The lure of the bed proved too strong.
With a lazy shrug, I cast everything aside.
Closing my eyes, I reached up and slowly removed the mask.
Sleep, a welcome escape from the whirlwind of the day, claimed me swiftly.
The quiet chamber was filled only with the gentle rise and fall of my breath.
The world dissolved into darkness, replaced by a scene that felt both familiar and foreign.
"........,"
✦ Warning: This passage contains descriptions of child abuse ✦
"........,"
"Boy!"
An older man barked, his voice heavy with anger and disappointment.
The man's figure was imposing, his features lost in the shadows.
"I told you not to sneak outside without permission!"
His hand shot out, connecting with a sickening slap.
Pain radiated through my cheekbone, and a metallic tang filled my mouth.
Disoriented, I reached up to touch the throbbing spot, a wave of nausea washing over me.
'What's this?'
I looked around the space, dimly lit and furnished.
My body felt small, smaller than it should be.
Lowering my head, I caught a glimpse of my hands – small, calloused, and covered in scars and bruises, not the well-kept hands I was accustomed to.
A chilling realization dawned.
These weren't my memories. They were fragments of His Grace's past, surfacing through the veil of sleep.
Tears welled up in the child's eyes, glistening in the faint light.
He tried to speak through the agony, but no sound came out.
He cowered in fear, hating himself for disobeying yet again.
"........,"
The man's voice cut through the silence, laced with cold malice.
"Get up, boy. Time to train again."
He loomed over the small figure, castinga long shadow that seemed to engulf the entire room.
With a heavy groan, the boy dragged himself out of bed, shivering from fear and exhaustion alike.
The training room was cold, its walls covered in scars from countless fights between master and student.
Today looked no different; it would be another brutal lesson designed to break whatever remaining shreds of dignity he had left.
The dream shifted, pulling me deeper into the Grand Duke's past.
This time, I found myself sitting cross-legged on the floor, head bowed low.
A burning sensation ripped across my back, followed by a sharp crack.
Each time the whip landed, the pain intensified.
Sobbing uncontrollably, the boy begged for mercy from the figure standing before him.
This man, this supposed teacher, this…
Father.
He was the source of the pain, the fear, the relentless training.
These were the buried memories of his grace, locked away for years, now resurfacing like vengeful ghosts to haunt my dreams.
"(Y/N), y-you wouldn't do this to your own father, r-right? Haha..."
A cold sweat slicked his skin as the cruel laughter of his son echoed in the darkness.
"No! Not again!"
With a gasp, I bolted upright in bed, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
Disoriented, I took a few deep breaths, trying to anchor myself to the present.
Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating my luxurious bedchamber – a stark contrast to the nightmarish scene that had just unfolded.
Memories of the day's events slowly seeped back in – the interviews, the unanswered questions, the weight of the Duchy settling on my shoulders.
Groaning softly, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stalked across the plush carpet.
My hands clenched into fists, frustration simmering beneath the surface.
"Why me? Why did I get trapped in this damned ga-...body?"
My thoughts were abruptly cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps.
With a growl, I tried to project an air of composure as a knock sounded on the door.
"Enter,"
I barked, hoping to sound more in control than I felt.
The door creaked open, revealing Hans, the Duke's personal servant.
He bowed deeply before entering the room, a tray laden with steaming food and a glass of water balanced in his hand.
"Your Grace,"
he greeted, his voice calm and soothing. Quietly, he set the tray down on a nearby table.
"Dinner is served. I hope I didn't disturb your slumber."
Assuming he was referring to my earlier nap, I shook my head dismissively.
"No, no worries,"
I mumbled, trying to sound more awake than I actually was.
Stiffly, I rose from the chair and walked towards the table.
Picking up a piece of bread, I dipped it into the soup, taking a hesitant bite.
The taste was… decent, a welcome distraction from the churning in my stomach.
Suddenly, a growl erupted from within, reminding me of how long it had been since I'd last eaten.
"Well, don't keep yourself waiting too long next time,"
Hans replied neutrally, a small smile playing on his lips.
Despite the food, I couldn't focus on eating with his watchful gaze upon me.
"Do you have something to–"
My question was interrupted by him handing me a sealed envelope, the familiar golden dragon insignia of the royal family waxed to its surface.
"You received an invitation to the second prince's birthday ceremony, Your Grace,"
he explained.
I took the envelope, my eyes narrowing as I noticed the date scrawled across the front.
Tomorrow.
"Thank you, Hans,"
I replied coolly, setting down my utensils and straightening in my chair.
"You may retire now."
He bowed once more before exiting the room quietly, the door clicking shut behind him.
With a heavy sigh, I leaned against the cool stone wall.
I scanned the contents briefly before placing it on the nightstand.
An invitation to a royal gathering?
This was escalating faster than expected.
A formal event with one of the kingdom's most powerful figures – this could only spell trouble.
Suddenly, a memory surfaced – an event from the game, Hard Mode.
Callisto's first official debut.
A gathering with the Crown Prince himself present…
Great.
Just great.
This wasn't good news.
The edges of my lips curled into a half-smirk.
I wasn't the protagonist in this twisted game, after all.
So perhaps a little wandering wouldn't hurt, right?
"........,"
╔. ■ .═══════╗
╚═══════. ■ .╝
"........,"
"Very well,"
I murmured, a glint of determination in my eyes.
"I shall attend."
.
.
.
╰┈➤ ❝ [Ɒσи'τ fσяɢєτ τσ vστє αиɒ cσммєиτ!]
₊❏❜ ⋮ ⌒(A/N): Thank you so much for reading this chapter! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )
.......
This is actually so long, tf.
Happy reading! >ᴗ<
ִֶָ๋𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐