on a robe and, for convenience, didn’t light a candle. After finding the item, I started back, but a dark shad ow flitted past my window, heading directly for Seraphina’s room.
The shadow moved so fast, it was almost like a trick of the light.
I quietly opened my door and crept along the wall, hiding outside Seraphina’s room.
The room was silent. There was no one there, no movement at all. It was as if the shadow had been a figm
ent of my imagination.
I was about to turn and leave when Seraphina’s inner voice echoed in my ears.
“The Fang family are all fools, except for Elara.”
“Now that I’m in the palace, I’ll be able to get what I need soon,”
“On the day my revenge is complete, I will go to my real parents and beg their forgiveness.”
The fragments of thought made no sense. I was certain that no one had been speaking in Seraphina’s room. Which meant… she was communicating with the shadow using her inner voice.
But her inner voice was only meant to be heard by my father, mother, and brother.
Unless… she could control who heard it.
If so, what was her real purpose in getting close to my family?
I knew Seraphina was up to no good, but I had no intention of telling my family. They already thought I coul- dn’t tolerate her. If I tried to warn them, they wouldn’t be grateful. They would only see it as more proof of my wickedness, of me trying to sow discord.
Besides, in my past life, I had starved to death in the family chapel. My mother had stood by, holding Seraph- ina, watching the entire time, warning her not to become “base” like me. My father had flogged me with a horsewhip, calling me unclean and a disgrace to the family name. My brother had bound my hands and feet as if I were an animal, the thick ropes digging so deep into my flesh I thought they would never come out.
The pain of those days was still vivid. The memory alone was enough to make me tremble with despair.
But though I sought no trouble, trouble came to find me.
It was my mother’s birthday, and the manor was decorated for a grand celebration. Lanterns were hung everywhere, and the atmosphere was festive. At night, I could hear waves of laughter coming from the main
courtyard. It was my parents and Gareth, sharing an intimate moment with Seraphina.
In my last life, whenever they had these happy family gatherings, I could only watch from the sidelines, full of
envy, hoping that one day they would finally see me.
This life, I simply feigned illness and sent a simple gift over to my mother.
Last time, I had spent two months painstakingly copying holy scriptures as a gift for her. To ensure their pot-
