đ.đ: Family secrets I
Elysia's perspective | A few days later. . .
đhis was the sixth morning since I'd reincarnated as Elysia, and for the past two days, I'd been living like a full-time private investigator.
Or, as I playfully put it, a highborn stalker.
There was this principle in psychology I studied meticulously in my past life. It was called the mere-exposure effect.
Let's say someone heard a song for the first time and thought it was no better than a dumpster fire.
But after hearing it repeatedlyâon the radio, from their neighbor's speakers, in every single freaking ad they scrolled pastâthey started to thinkâŠ
Hey, maybe the song isn't that bad after all.
Mere-exposure effect, ladies and gentlemen.
So I thought: why not use such a convenient approach in winning over the twins?
Thus, I made it a point to always be within the peripheral vision of either Luke or Lucas. Preferably both.
I sat through their morning sword practicesânot flinching even once when Luke glared daggers my way. I popped up during afternoon hunts, even 'managed' to bump into them in the royal gardens like fate had suddenly taken up matchmaking as a side gig.
In truth, I'd memorized their daily schedule better than my own. All in the name of progress, of course.
But today, I had different plans.
I sat alone in the vast dining hall, a long silver spoon swirling lazily through my bowl of warm porridge. The grains were soft and buttery, laced with cinnamon and honey, but I barely tasted it.
The golden glow of the morning sun streamed through the stained-glass windows, painting glossy mosaics across the polished marble floorâsapphires, rubies, and emeralds flickering with every flick of light.
I found myself watching those colors dance from time to time, mesmerized.
The clatter of distant footsteps and the occasional rustle of a servant's skirt were the only signs of life.
Without my brothers' animated bickering or King Zachary's commanding presence, the room felt strangely hollowâbut not unwelcome.
For once, I didn't mind being left out.
The King and his sons were away handling urgent royal duties: Lucas had accompanied His Majesty to the western borders to negotiate a peace treaty with the Ironfang clan, while Luke had been tasked with overseeing an inspection of the capital's outer defense towers.
They'd be gone until dusk, which meant the castle was practically mine for the day.
And I couldn't have asked for better timing.
Swallowing the last spoonful of porridge, I dabbed the corners of my mouth with a linen napkin and rose from the table, the hem of my gown brushing softly against the marble as I moved.
"Your Highness," Mira, my adorable and fiercely efficient lady-in-waiting, curtsied as I passed. "Will you be needing anything else this morning?"
She's alone. I guess Liliette and Seraphine are occupied with other tasks.
On habit, I noted her affection level and mentally fist-bumped the air when a lovely 61 gleamed back at me. Progress.
The girls and I had grown especially closer these past two days. It was surprisingâendearing, even.
I'd still half-expected Mira and Seraphine's icy glares and hushed whispers. Instead, I found warmth. Respect. Maybe even the budding roots of trust.
Perhaps the mere-exposure effect won this round, too.
"No, thank you, Mira. I intend to spend most of today reading," I said with a serene smile. "Make sure no one disturbs me, unless it's an emergency."
Mira's eyes sparkled with understanding. "Shall I prepare some items to make you comfortable in the library?"
"Please do. Maybe a bowl of fruits and nuts this time. Something light."
A few minutes later, wrapped in a luxurious velvet cloak and clutching a soft blanket under one arm, I made my way to the grand library.
The tall arched doors groaned faintly as they opened to reveal that familiar scentâaged parchment, old oak, and the faintest trace of lavender from the polished floors.
Mira had already been throughâthere was a small end table beside my favorite reading chair, a tray perched on top with a carved wooden bowl filled with grapes, sliced apples, almonds, and dried apricots.
A warm spiced lamp flickered beside it, casting a golden hue across the chair's plush fabric. A fresh stack of books awaited my attention, their spines cracked but proud.
Perfect.
I settled in and flipped open one of the older texts, a dusty tome titled The Lineages of Nightborne Royalty, which was mostly fluff I had no interest in. But it gave me the perfect cover.
After a while, I murmured under my breath, "Winfred?"
The system's artificial voice echoed in my mind like a soft bell chime.
[ Host. ]
"How much time do I have left on the side mission and the main mission?"
[ You have used 4 days, 20 hours, and 2 seconds of your allotted 7 days for the side mission. For the main mission, you have used 4 days, 2 hours, and 2 seconds. ]
A wave of anxiety tugged at my chest.
Almost five days gone already? I hadn't even gotten past the entry point of the underground chambers.
"Looks like it's time to work."
I was well prepared this time for sure.
So, I stood, brushing my dress smooth, and glanced toward the massive double doors. I waited, listening.
Nothing.
As expected, the moment those heavy oak doors shut, the library became a soundproof vault. Designed to grant the royal family their peaceâand, in this case, me, my secrets.
Pulling the cloak tighter around my shoulders, I approached that dark, quiet space tucked in the eastern alcoveâseveral paces from the towering shelf of Sacred Texts, past the faded tapestry bearing the Aerelion crest.
There it was. The worn-out, out-of-place shelf hugging the stone wall like it didn't belong. The suspicious scuff marks on the tiles in front of it gave me all the confirmation I needed.
A sigh escaped me when I realized I had to move this thing. Again.
The weight. The dust. My poor spine.
I sighed once moreâbut got to work.
My muscles strained as I shoved the shelf aside, wincing as it scraped loudly against the floor. Once it shifted enough, I crouched and brushed my fingers along the cool stone surface behind it.
There.
The keyhole.
It was exactly as I remembered.
From the hem of my inner lining, I retrieved the old iron key I'd carefully sewn in place. Heavy. Cold. Rusted. The carvings on its head were nearly faded with time.
I slid it into the hollow, twistedâ
Click.
A groan echoed from within the wall like a beast stirring in its slumber. Then the stone door shifted, inch by inch, dust billowing from its edges as it opened.
I stumbled back, coughing loudly and waving a hand before my face.
Dust blanketed the floor and danced in thick clouds through the wall lamp's golden beam. The musty scent of time-locked decay clawed at my senses. My pulse thundered in my ears.
I held my breath, straining to hear anything. Still nothing. Not even a whisper.
I retrieved the key and slipped it back into its hiding spot. Then, I slung my blanket over one shoulder and removed the lamp from its wall sconce.
After taking in a deep breath, I stepped inside, flinching when the stone wall shifted back in place with an echoing thud.
Beyond the hidden doorway was a narrow stairwell plunging into blackness.
Like something ripped from a horror movie...
But I didn't hesitate for long.
Each footfall echoed against the ancient stone as I descended. The stairs were unevenâsome cracked, others moss-covered. Clearly untouched for centuries.
The deeper I went, the colder the air grew. My breaths formed wisps in the light. The scent of earth, stone, and rot crept into my nose.
I clutched the blanketânot just for warmth, but for comfort. My hands trembled slightly, and I cursed myself under my breath for shaking this much.
This wasn't just some cozy fantasy adventure anymore.
This was real.
And terrifying.
The stairwell twisted, once, twice, then straightened into a hallway. A narrow stone corridor stretched forward into shadows, the walls lined with rusted sconces long emptied of their torches.
Cobwebs clung to the ceiling like skeletal drapery. My lamp's light reached only a few paces ahead, but I could make out the faint outline of an iron door at the far end.
I crept forward. Every creak of my shoes felt loud enough to wake the dead.
The air here⊠it felt heavy. Like it held memories. Like it remembered pain.
As I reached the door, I pressed my ear against it and waited. Nothing. Heart hammering, I pushed.
It didn't budge.
I spotted another keyhole and reached for the key again. I hadn't even expected it to work but it slid in perfectly. Another click, and this time, the door creaked open with a metallic groan.
Inside was a chamber that stretched higher than I could see.
Stone shelves filled the room, lined with scrolls, vials, ancient tools, and herbs preserved in crystal jars. A massive marble table stood in the center, covered in faded maps, torn parchment, shattered glassware.
This was no ordinary chamber.
It was a war room.
Or a laboratory.
Or both.
I stepped inside, shoes disturbing the thick dust. My lamp's glow flickered across strange markings etched into the stone floorârunes, perhaps? Some glowed faintly beneath the dust, like a heartbeat long forgotten.
I neared one of the scrollsâwritten in a language I didn't recognize. For that, I'd need a translation spell. Eventually.
But for now, I was getting closer.
Closer to my true role in this world.
Closer to undoing the demise Elysia had unjustly faced in the original story.
Closer to the answers that had been buried beneath false peace and silenceâand perhaps even closer to something, or someone, that hadn't wanted to be found.
I glanced back once more, then pulled the iron door shut behind me.
The past had been hidden for a reason.
But I intended to make its secrets my weapon.
So I wouldn't meet the same fate as Elysia.