Though Ceres didn’t bring up Elios, Snow felt a bit embarrassed just facing Ceres Martadia, as if her innermost feelings were completely transparent. Ceres Martadia knew how special Elios was to her.

As always, Arianne came to visit before she fell asleep. It was always Arianne’s role to wake Snow in the morning and prepare her bed before sleep. Snow felt sorry that Arianne volunteered for this task when she could do it herself, but Arianne considered it not a duty but her own small joy.

“I couldn’t focus on anything all day because you seemed so down, but seeing you smile like this is such a relief.”

Arianne spoke with a genuinely happy expression. Snow lay in bed with a languid smile.

“I’m sorry for making you worry. I’m fine now. You must be tired too, go get some rest.”

“Thank you for your concern. But seeing you like this washes away all my fatigue from the day.”

Arianne placed a light kiss on Snow’s forehead. Though Snow had completed her coming-of-age ceremony, Arianne still treated her like a child, but Snow had no intention of stopping her.

Only after checking once more if she was too cold or hot, and if her nightgown was comfortable, did Arianne leave the room. When she left with the candlestick, the room darkened.

Snow was truly fine now. It was literally just a dream. In a few days, she would barely remember what dream she had.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Snow deliberately muttered aloud before closing her eyes. She quickly fell asleep.

♣ ♣ ♣

That night, Snow dreamed again.

This time it was a dream so long it seemed it would never end. Ten years, twenty years. A dream that lasted nearly twenty years.

One month, two months, one year, two years—as a long time passed in the dream, Snow lost even her sense of self. It was mysterious.

She had thought it was just a dream. She had thought that in a few days, she would barely remember what dream she had.

But it wasn’t a simple dream. Nor was it something that could be forgotten with the passage of time.

One night. In just one night, everything became tangled, intertwined, and jumbled.

♣ ♣ ♣

Her mother died giving birth to her. On that day, the area between the exhausted legs of the deceased Duchess Nigritia was soaked in blood. Freia was born beneath her. It was a day of rain, thunder, and lightning. The newborn baby didn’t cry much. Instead, the household members shed tears in her place.

That day, Freia’s birthday, became the anniversary of Duchess Nigritia’s death.

She was exceptionally frail from birth. There was no specific diagnosis, nor any particularly effective medicine. The numerous doctors who stood before the Duke all carefully informed him that his precious daughter would struggle to live past her tenth birthday.

But the Duke’s daughter survived tenaciously. She was like a flower stem that wouldn’t easily break in the wind, and also like a weed that stubbornly survives no matter how much it’s trampled.

It wasn’t Freia’s fault that she was weak, nor that she stubbornly survived despite that weakness. However, whenever Freia stood before Duke Nigritia, she felt as if everything was her fault. Even her very existence in this world.

“Useless thing.”

After hearing such words from the Duke, Freia avoided him. She was afraid of her father. He was someone who valued the family name more than the family itself. He was someone who could sacrifice his family for the sake of the lineage. Considering how the Nigritia family had maintained power for generations, the Dukes of Nigritia must have all been cold-hearted people like her father.

The ducal family had traditionally married their daughters to royal men. To put it more bluntly, they “sold them off.” It was merely a means to solidify the family’s power, with no regard whatsoever for the daughters’ wishes.

However, they couldn’t marry off a frail woman who might die at any moment to royalty. It was unclear whether they could even find a son-in-law who wouldn’t tarnish the ducal name, let alone a royal match. It was certain that no high nobleman would want to marry a weak woman who coughed up blood at every opportunity.

She rarely went outside, let alone attended social gatherings. The fact that a daughter was born to the Duke of Nigritia was a major issue for the first few years, and for the next few years, it generated all sorts of rumors about “the Duke’s precious lady who is so ill that she doesn’t show herself to outsiders even on her birthday.” As more time passed, she gradually faded from people’s memories.

Freia didn’t hold large birthday parties. This was because the date overlapped with her mother’s death anniversary. Instead of begging her father for a birthday party, she would visit the low hill where her mother’s beautifully adorned bones were said to have scattered far in the wind. It was one of the few outings for her, who rarely left home due to her weak constitution.

She would sit in a sunny spot on the hilltop and talk with the mother she couldn’t even remember. Beside Freia, who quietly asked about her mother’s well-being to the blue void, was always her brother, Ian Nigritia.

In Freia’s early years, before meeting Ikanel, Ian was practically her entire life. Though outwardly gentle and kind, her heart was actually tightly closed. No servant in the castle, not even her closest maid, nor the Duke could enter her world. Only one person, Ian Nigritia, could fully step into her world.

When Freia had grown old enough to have some discernment, Ian took her in a very comfortable carriage to the hill where their mother’s bones had been scattered. It was partly because he felt sorry for his young sister who sat blankly on her birthday, unable to do anything in the gloomy atmosphere of the mansion, and partly because he wanted her to know how much their mother had cherished the unborn Freia, stroking her swollen belly. Afterward, the two siblings visited the hill on their mother’s death anniversary—that is, on Freia’s birthday—as if following a set routine.

“My sister. How can you be so lovely?”

Occasionally, with eyes containing the green of a lush summer forest, Ian would smile and whisper. Only in moments with her brother would Freia’s pale cheeks flush with vitality.

♣ ♣ ♣

Freia’s second oldest memory was from when she was about six years old, visiting the hill where her mother’s bones were scattered with her brother for the first time. And her oldest memory was of a strange experience she had at the age of five.

The young girl was hovering between life and death. She had a high fever that made her consciousness come and go. It was a common occurrence. Her father would look at Freia gasping for breath with a distorted face, then click his tongue and stride out. And he wouldn’t return.

“Freia, my beautiful sister. My precious sister. Goddess Amir, Mother, please save Freia!”

Ian, who was about ten years old, held his feverish sister’s hand tightly and cried until his eyes were swollen red. If Freia had a seizure, he would be even more startled and press the doctor.

In her consciousness that wavered with high fever, Freia heard her brother’s sobbing. It was like an echo coming from beyond the horizon, not feeling very real. Her eyelids, which she was struggling to keep open, grew heavier and heavier. The moment she finally closed her eyes completely, she felt a spinning dizziness. Five-year-old Freia completely lost consciousness.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a beautiful arch. Rose vines were intertwined in elegant curves, filling the arch made from a single piece of pure white stone. The roses were dyed in colors that seemed like they couldn’t exist in this world. They couldn’t be described by any color that Freia usually liked.

Freia passed through the arch as if in a dream. It was clearly not the cozy room in the Nigritia mansion where she had been lying. The mansion was nowhere to be seen. Her body no longer hurt either. Her body felt light. She felt the urge to sing and run around freely.

Freia didn’t find any of these changes strange at all. As if it were natural. As if it had always been that way. She forgot even her precious brother who had been holding her hand and crying, and moved forward through the arch. As she passed through, the roses on the arch emitted a rich fragrance. That too was a scent that seemed like it couldn’t exist in the world.

A large garden unfolded before Freia’s eyes beyond the arch. It was a dreamlike place that would reduce the beautiful gardens of the imperial palace to a humble vegetable patch.

Bright yellow freesias were in full bloom. Around them were hydrangeas tinged with purple, cinerarias that bloomed abundantly in the footprints she left with each step, cornflowers that bloomed ahead of her making a path, lilac trees that stretched like deer necks waving their delicate petals, colonies of tulips, hyacinths… Flowers of all four seasons bloomed together, creating a chaotic spectacle.

Freia stroked each flower with her small fingers as if handling something precious. It was a familiar touch, as if rediscovering something she had always known. Freia felt an aching feeling deep in her chest. She felt like she might cry.

There, the sun never set. The flowers never withered. Freia was wearing a dress that dragged to her toes, but despite being dragged across the dirt, it remained pristine white without getting dirty.

Freia walked through the garden. The garden was endless, revealing new and diverse landscapes no matter how far she walked. She couldn’t tell whether she had been walking for an hour or a day. She walked and walked, but her legs didn’t hurt, her throat didn’t get dry, and she wasn’t out of breath.

As she moved forward as if enchanted, Freia gradually felt a numbing emotion. She couldn’t understand why the beautiful scenery felt so desolate. Why it felt so unsettling. After turning her young mind over and over in thought, she finally realized.

There was nothing there. In this beautiful garden.

There was no sound of busy bees flying between the flowers, no butterflies fluttering like petals, no ladybugs crawling up the flower stems. No hummingbirds tickling the petals with their small fluttering bodies.