"Aria, are you quite well? Did you hear what I said?" Henry asked, his voice filled with concern.
I startled slightly. "Oh—pardon me, Henry. I am not feeling well today. I did not sleep much last night. If you will excuse me, I should like to rest in my chamber."
"Of course," he replied gently.
My mind was in complete turmoil. Julia was dreaming of me as well.
How am I to know whether this is real, or whether I am slowly losing my reason?
I spent the entire day in my room, pacing, replaying the dreams again and again, writing every detail down until my fingers ached.
When evening came, I went down to dine with Henry.
Without the duke's presence, the meal was—as it had become—warm and calm.
I found comfort in Henry's quiet company, his steady presence easing my restless thoughts.
Later that night, I made my way to the training grounds.
Leo was there, seated beneath the oak tree, as though he had never moved.
"Well," he drawled, feigning wounded pride, "you have finally taken pity on this poor soul."
"I was occupied," I replied curtly.
"Yes," he said lightly, though his eyes darkened, "with young Master Henry. I see you grow quite close."
I raised a brow. "Are you jealous, Sir Leo?"
"Yes," he answered at once.
The word struck me like a slap.
My eyes widened, heat rushing to my face. His blunt honesty left me speechless.
"You are cruel, Princess," he continued, his tone sharper now. "I wait for you night after night. Do you fancy Henry?"
Anger flared in me, swift and fierce.
"That is the most absurd question I have ever heard!" I snapped.
"And who are you to question me? I have promised you nothing. Do not indulge such delusions, Sir Leo. Remember your place—I am the lady of this house, and you are my knight. Nothing more."
I turned away, ready to leave.
What is it with men? Offer them the slightest kindness, and they believe they own you.
But Leo caught my wrist.
"I beg your pardon, Lady Aria," he said quickly, his voice stripped of all arrogance.
"I did not mean to offend you. Please—stay. It shall not happen again."
There was something desperate in his gaze now, something raw. I studied him, trying to understand this strange attachment.
We had spoken but a handful of times, yet he clung to me as though I were something he feared losing.
"Please, Princess," he whispered.
"…Very well," I said at last.
Relief washed over him instantly, his body visibly relaxing as a wide grin spread across his face.
We sat beneath the tree, leaning back against its trunk.
"So," he said with a teasing smirk, "I am your knight, then."
I sighed. "You are hopeless, Sir Leo."
He laughed softly. "You seem happier without the duke about. And much closer to young Master Henry."
"Yes," I admitted. "I enjoy Henry's company. He is a good man."
"That is… good," he said quietly, his voice losing its playfulness.
After a moment, I asked, "Do you believe there are other worlds?"
He turned to me. "Other worlds?"
"Entirely different ones," I explained. "With strange inventions, unfamiliar customs… perhaps even a different time."
A different time…
The thought struck me with sudden clarity.
Could Julia be from the future?
Leo waved a hand before my face. "Princess?"
I startled. "It is nothing. Forget I asked. It was foolish. I must return—it is late."
"Wait," he said quickly. "Will you come tomorrow?"
"No," I answered. "The duke returns tomorrow. It is too dangerous. Do not wait for me."
"Then the day after," he said, already certain.
"Good night, Princess."
I sighed. Arguing with him was pointless.
"Good night, Sir Leo."
I lay awake long after returning to my room.
If it truly is the future… it would explain everything. The strange carriages without horses. The odd garments. The world Julia lives in…
Eventually, exhaustion claimed me.
I awoke the next morning utterly drained.
Has the duke returned already? No—he would have come to me first.
At breakfast, I found only Henry seated at the table.
A wide smile spread across my face.
"Good morning, Henry," I greeted him brightly.
"Good morning, Aria. You seem in high spirits," he said, smiling back.
"And why should I not be?" I laughed.
"I slept well and am sharing a fine meal with my dear brother."
"When does the duke return?" I asked lightly.
"I am here, my sweet."
The world seemed to drain of color.
I turned slowly. The duke stood in the doorway, that dreadful smile upon his face.
He crossed the room and kissed my cheek. "Did you miss your father?"
It took all my strength to smile. "Of course, Father. Welcome home."
He joined Henry, speaking of his travels, but I could scarcely hear them. My appetite vanished; the food tasted like ash.
I excused myself and fled to my room.
Freedom is dangerous once tasted.
Endure, Aria. Only a few more months.
I returned to the memoir.
Maria brought tea and sat nearby, quietly embroidering.
I had never cared for such work—no matter how the duchess tried to teach me.
I reached the final section.
The Northern Kingdom.
My kingdom.
Suddenly, I sprang to my feet.
"Oh, sweet heavens—it cannot be!"
Maria gasped. "My lady, what is wrong?"
My gaze fixed on the faint scar upon my forearm.
The words on the page burned into my mind:
[Among all my patients, she was the strangest. A woman of the Northern Kingdom, her hair dark as the night, yet her eyes—emerald and unnaturally vivid.
She was weary, desperate, and terrified of sleep.
She spoke of dreams—of strange places and unfamiliar people.
'What frightens you so?' I asked.
'Everything that happens to the girl in my dreams happens to me when I wake,' she said.
'Are you seeing the future?'
'No,' she answered. 'I feel her pain. Her wounds appear upon my body.']