Liya's head felt swollen as she sat restlessly in the study of the mansion.
She held a book in her hands, flipping through it back and forth.
But no matter how she looked at it, she couldn't calm her mind.
What was this supposed to be?
She wanted to read to steady herself, yet the more she read, the more clearly she felt that strange sense of disconnection surging in her head.
When, exactly, had she started developing a habit of reading?
In the end, Liya still couldn't continue. She closed the book, tossed it aside, and rubbed her temples.
She picked up the teacup beside her and quietly took a sip.
The bitter taste swept over her taste buds, followed by a faint sweetness spreading through her mouth.
Vanilla stood beside her, saying nothing. After Liya finished drinking, she thoughtfully poured her another cup of tea.
Liya looked up at Vanilla and couldn't help but ask, "Vanilla, I remember, you're a mage, right?"
Vanilla bowed slightly and replied, "Lady Liya, I'm only an apprentice mage."
An apprentice mage was essentially a trainee for becoming a full mage.
Liya naturally knew this.
So she nodded.
"I didn't expect that among your demi-human people, there would actually be a demi-human like you with such magical talent."
Of course, what surprised Liya even more wasn't Vanilla's magical talent.
It was her unique rationality and intelligence, so different from other demi-humans.
Was Vanilla born knowing all this?
No, of course not.
With reminders from others, Liya had already sensed a very obvious gap in her memory.
With her self-awareness, she understood that Vanilla couldn't possibly have been trained by her.
A demi-human who was so polite, whose behavior was extremely elegant, and who was willing to serve others as a maid, someone like that was almost impossible for her to have personally taught.
The one who cultivated Vanilla was someone else.
So who exactly was that person?
Although she had asked Gwen many questions, Liya still couldn't recover that missing part of her memory that should have existed in her mind.
However, she did gain a few clues.
First, because someone from the Clavenna family had a marriage contract with Gwen.
So the identity of that mysterious person was almost certainly someone from the Clavenna family.
But the one bound by the engagement couldn't possibly be her.
Tracing things through the relationship between the mysterious person and Gwen, Liya finally thought of something.
Gwen was the swordsmanship instructor to the imperial princess.
Her qualifications were clearly insufficient, there was no way the royal family would let Gwen become the princess's instructor for no reason.
Only then did Liya realize that the person she had forgotten must have connections to the royal family, and not weak ones, at that.
Liya was certain that she had to investigate using this information.
So she asked Gwen, who was still staying in the capital, for help.
She believed Gwen would definitely be able to uncover something.
At this moment, Liya noticed the crystal on the table trembling.
She quickly picked it up, but the voice coming from it wasn't Gwen's.
Instead, it belonged to someone else she was very familiar with...
"Miss Liya." Leon's voice sounded from within.
Liya wasn't sure.
What did she have to report at a time like this?
"I remembered something. It might be able to help you."
Liya straightened up immediately and urged her, "Tell me!"
On the other side, Leon stood on a mountainside at the mine, holding the glowing communication crystal in her hand.
Her lapis-blue long hair swayed continuously in the breeze, her clothes fluttering along with it.
Standing at the top of the mine, Leon's expression was stern.
Looking down at the miners below, she spoke calmly, "When the workers dug out that mirror, I happened to be there."
At the time, Leon remembered that she had been going to look for Liya.
"But then, I suddenly forgot you."
"It wasn't until this morning that I remembered."
Listening to her words, Liya felt a wave of dizziness.
Suddenly, an idea formed in her mind.
She leaned forward slightly, staring at the crystal in front of her.
"What day of the week is it today?"
"Miss Liya, today is Saturday."
The moment she heard the answer, Liya immediately sensed something was wrong.
Because she also remembered receiving a notice from the mine workers and going there to see that mirror.
But after that, she knew nothing at all.
She only knew that when she woke up, the mirror had already been placed in her home.
That day was Friday, and it was still morning.
She had lost an entire day, Friday.
Just as Leon had said.
During that entire Friday, Leon had forgotten her.
Now, the blank space in Liya's memory matched Leon's experience with shocking similarity.
Liya instantly grew excited and spoke eagerly to the crystal, "Thank you, Leon!"
"Your clue has given me more than enough help!"
After speaking, she quickly cut off the connection and turned to instruct Vanilla, who was standing nearby, "Go notify Steward Halnarsen immediately. Have him bring that mirror over."
Upon receiving the order, Vanilla bowed slightly and left the study.
Not long after, an elderly yet powerfully built, tall bear-man walked in.
Vanilla followed closely behind him.
In the bear-man's palm, one hand grasped the edge of the mirror frame, carrying it into the room.
In his hand, the mirror looked like a small tray, remarkably light and compact.
Halnarsen placed the mirror in front of Liya and respectfully said, "Miss Liya, the mirror you requested."
The smooth surface of the mirror reflected Liya's face.
She looked it over from top to bottom, and the reflection mirrored her movements.
"Hm… this doesn't seem particularly special?"
She reached out, wanting to touch the mirror, but suddenly she froze slightly.
Turning her head, she looked at Halnarsen.
"Halnarsen, what did you just call me?"
"Why didn't you address me as 'family head'?"
Halnarsen bowed slightly. "Miss Liya, the family head is someone else."
Liya turned her entire body toward him, staring seriously as she asked, "What do you know?"
Halnarsen lowered his head and replied respectfully, "My apologies, Miss Liya."
"My capabilities are limited. I only know this much."
Liya placed one hand on her chin and began to think carefully.
Just then, the bear-man's voice sounded again.
"But I still remember."
Halnarsen looked at Liya and said in a deep, muffled voice, "That I once took all of you…"
"…to build a snowman together."
At that moment, Liya suddenly raised her head.
'That's it!'
She no longer cared about the strange mirror, ignored Vanilla standing nearby, rushed past Halnarsen, and hurried out of the study.
Soon, she reached the door to her bedroom.
The intense burst of movement left her gasping for breath.
But Liya didn't care at all. She pushed the door open and rushed to the cabinet.
"A magic lock? Oh gods, when did I even set this up??"
She didn't dwell on it. Reaching out, she began thinking about the correct way to open the magic lock.
But the instant her hand touched the cabinet, the lock seemed to recognize her automatically and opened on its own.
Liya didn't quite understand, a sense of doubt rising in her heart.
But this was clearly a good thing.
She didn't think further, rummaging through the drawer, pushing aside old, patched-up toys, and feeling down to the very bottom.
Then she took out that notebook, already yellowed with age.
'Snowman, snowman!'
She ignored everything at the front of the notebook. In her mind, there were only the words "snowman."
Finally, she found that page.
She looked at its contents and read them carefully, line by line.
"December 21st…"
"Today, it snowed, a really, really heavy snow…"
The childish handwriting carried a hint of youthful innocence and girlish naivety.
At last, Liya read further down.
She froze.
"I showed the snowman to my brother."
"To my brother… brother?"
'Who is this brother?'
She slammed the diary onto the table and, almost crazed, flipped through the earlier entries.
"November 6th…"
"November 7th…"
"November 8th…"
Brother, brother.
Throughout the memories in this diary, these two words appeared again and again.
Yet Liya had not the slightest memory of any of it.
Desperate, she tried to dig out the answer she wanted from this thin notebook.
Even if it was just a name.
'Brother, brother…'
'Who is he?'
So Liya kept flipping through the pages, not even caring that the yellowed, brittle paper was tearing under her hands.
'Why did I forget? Why?'
A desperate sound squeezed out of her throat, tinged with sobs.
'Remember already, Liya!'
Following the diary entries, she flipped to the back.
"December 23rd."
"He said he hates tears."
Yes, he hated tears.
At that moment, she learned to be strong for the first time, learned to be independent.
So from that moment on, Liya never cried because of him again.
But this time, she still broke down and cried urgently.
Drip! Drip!
Tears soaked into the yellowed diary.
Liya lowered her head helplessly, letting her hair cover her face.
At the same time, she read out the final line.
"I'm so useless…"
A breeze slipped in through the window, gently brushing across Liya's face and slowly stirring the yellowed, fragile pages.
Moved by the wind, Liya noticed something.
One page of the diary had its corner folded.
As if it had been done on purpose, just so she would see it.
She hurriedly flipped to that page and looked closely.
It was blank, with nothing written on it.
But suddenly, her eyes widened.
At the top of the blank page, a simple smiling face was drawn.
Yet it seemed to carry some kind of magic.
A name slowly surfaced in her mind.
"Vik… tor?"
A fierce gust of wind rushed in through the narrow window, making both window panes rattle loudly.
The curtains were swept up, and Liya's hair became tangled in the surging wind.
But within the raging wind, there seemed to be a gentle breeze, one that, without her noticing, wiped away the tears at the corner of her eyes.
Liya blinked.
That wasn't a breeze.
At that moment, she saw it.
It was a hand, warm to the touch, gently stroking her face.
With its thumb, it softly wiped away the tears at the corner of her eye.
A black trench coat fluttered endlessly in the wind.
The man's steady voice gradually sounded by Liya's ear, "I really don't like tears."
Liya stood there, stunned, staring at the man before her.
A crow stood on his shoulder, lifting its head, its single eye looking exceedingly proud.
Within the man's indifferent gaze, there was an added trace of gentleness as he quietly looked at Liya.
Feeling the warmth from his palm, Liya raised her head slowly, her eyes still wet.
Outside the window, the wind seemed to grow noisier, but no longer wild, instead, it became warm and gentle.
Soft air flowed over her skin, lifting her hair in a tender breeze.
The man's familiar voice, accompanied by the calm wind, gradually echoed, "So, don't cry..."
"My dearest."