Even the Emperor cherishing a daughter who resembled her felt like the confirmation of his love towards her.

She was also pleased that Esmeralda admired Blair, as it felt like having something the other woman could never possess.

Katrina’s life was perfectly content.
Until Blair, who was growing up, began to resemble Esmeralda more and more each day.

At first, it was unsettling.

“You’re my daughter, why?”

It felt like having a child stolen without warning, born using her womb.

So, she tried to mold the child into her own image in any way possible.

But even if Esmeralda died and, as she grew, resembled her face even more, her true nature couldn’t be hidden.

The moment Blair, with the same gaze as that woman, faced her with a face resembling hers, it was horrifying.

It felt as if the ghost of the deceased woman had come back to life.

At some point, Blair became not a proud trophy but a rival to overcome.

How pitiful and pathetic it was to see that child yearning for affection, not receiving a fragment of her love, and how joyous it was.

However, everything changed when Blair married into Delmark.

Following Ivan’s words about absorbing that influence through a strategic marriage with Delmark was a fatal mistake.

“…The truth about that day must not be revealed.”

Katrina spoke in a desperate voice.

If the truth about that day were exposed, everything she had built up throughout her life would crumble.

That was absolutely unacceptable.

Gerald, who had been quietly watching Katrina, filled with anxiety, opened his mouth.

“If you are truly concerned, then do it like this.”

“Then have sweet dreams, milady.”

“You sleep well too.”
Melie helped Blair change into her nightclothes and even combed her hair before quietly leaving the room. Blair briefly stared at the closed door before getting up from the vanity. Although he hadn’t been visiting the bedroom for the past few days, it seemed prudent to go to bed early, just in case. After finishing preparations and getting into bed, Blair, about to lie down under the blanket, noticed his trembling hands unconsciously and clasped them together. The aftermath of the hypnosis performed with Agnes earlier in the day still lingered. Blair sighed as he observed his body reacting independently of his will. The hypnosis that started off promisingly ended in failure. Despite spending a long time with Agnes, the young Blair in his subconscious could not escape from the metaphorical closet. Perhaps it was not imprisonment, but rather self-imposed confinement for thorough self-protection. Still, during the last hypnosis, he caught a glimpse of something he hadn’t seen before through the crack of the closet – a maid’s uniform. On that day, the face of the maid who was said to have died there. However, the already revealed truth had little significance in revealing the truth of the incident. Agnes, noticing Blair’s disappointment without any harvest, encouraged her, saying it was evidence that memories were slowly returning. However, apart from that, she did not promise the next hypnosis session.
Agnes, sensing Blair’s disappointment due to the lack of results, reassured her by saying, “Still, it’s evidence that memories are slowly coming back.” However, regardless of that, she didn’t promise the next hypnosis session.

“If you don’t suffer from aftereffects tomorrow morning, let’s reconsider at that time.”

And so, today’s counseling came to an end.

Blair, lying in bed, still clasped her slightly trembling hands, fervently praying.

That she would be fine tomorrow morning as well.

Blair’s eyelids, which had been comforting herself for a while, closed softly.

Awakening from sleep, Blair slowly blinked her heavy eyelids, suddenly becoming alert.

“Where is this…?”

Not only had the sleeping place changed from the bed to the sofa, but this was not the view of the bedroom where she had fallen asleep in the first place.

However, it felt familiar somewhere. It was a scene that even brought back a faint sense of longing. The fragrance gently filling the room, in particular, comforted her heart.

Blair slowly sat up. As she did, her hand moved involuntarily to rub her drowsy eyes. Her hand felt small.

Realizing this, simultaneously, a voice, independent of her will, flowed out.

“Empress?”

When she raised her head, someone was doing something on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“Oh my. Are you already up, Blair?”

A missed voice. A missed face.
However, Esmeralda, now turned into a trauma, was there.

The moment Blair saw her, she sensed.

“…It’s a dream.”

Simultaneously, the realization that this was not just a dream but a forgotten memory from some incident along with it.