Chapter 40. The silence before the storm
An icy wave swept through my entire body, not from the cold outside the window, but from the inside. I stood with my fingers gripping the windowsill until my knuckles turned white. My head was buzzing, and my temples were pounding. The pictures, the sounds, the smells—everything was so vivid, so real.
Family dinner. Heat. Laughter. Mom. Her brown eyes, full of love. Father... his eyes, the same brown. No scarlet magic. Just a warm, soft look. Expensive tableware with a coat of arms that I couldn't make out. Suits, dresses. Not wealth, but legacy. Sophistication. We were nobles. But not one of them. Not Purple. Strangers in this world from the very beginning.
And then... The rift. Purposeful. Exact. Like a surgical stroke. I vomited through the pain and chaos. I didn't see what happened to them. I just... disappeared. One. There's a rainstorm in the snow.
People. Soldiers. They found me. We became a family. Short-lived. And then He came. Monster. Cold calculation. One punch. Fast, clean, ruthless. And the heads...
..And last thoughts: "I hope my parents are alive. And you, my sister... I hope you won't cry for me. Heh."
Sister. Noble blood. A stranger to this world.
I didn't move. He didn't rush around. The wave of panic subsided, replaced by a chilling, absolute calm. I let go of the windowsill and slowly, very slowly, turned around.
His gaze slid over the stone walls, the wrought-iron grate, the heavy door with a lock. The trap. But now I saw it not as a cage for an animal, but as an office for a strategist.
They're not Purple. They are strangers. Enemies, perhaps. Perhaps those who are behind the Rift. The ones who killed my soldiers.
My parents are alive. Somewhere. My sister is alive. Somewhere.
Yuki... She was taken away. My only support.
I didn't come to the door. I didn't try to listen or shout. I just went over to the table and sat down on a rough wooden chair. The back is straight. Hands are folded in front of you.
I won't talk to anyone. Not with Solomon. Not with Quinn. Not with anyone. Every word, every look is information that they can use against me. Against Yuki. Against my real family, which I now knew was waiting for me somewhere out there.
My gaze fell on the wall opposite. On a bare stone. I looked through him, deep into my memories, searching for details. The coat of arms on the dishes. The bend of the pattern. The accent in the father's speech. Fragments of phrases dropped by the soldiers who found me... about the "eastern lands", about the "old surnames", about "that war", which everyone preferred to keep silent about.
I was a noble. From a family that didn't fit into the new order of the world after the Disaster. Perhaps even enemies of the Crimson Ones. Or their rivals.
And I was spared. They didn't kill him. And they threw it here, to perish. But I survived.
Why? For me to become their weapon against themselves? Or did someone hope that I would die quietly without leaving a trace?
I slowly raised my hand and opened my fingers. He looked at his palm. The hand of a murderer. The survivor's hand. The hand that was supposed to either destroy this castle or retake it.
But now... now I won't do either.
The plan was simple.
Silence. Observation. Absolute, icy passivity. I'll do what I'm told. To study. Train. To show complete submission. I will be the perfect, silent student.
And I will absorb everything myself. Every word, every detail about the castle's structure, its routine, and the weaknesses of its inhabitants. I will look for a flaw in their armor. Look for hints of your family in their conversations. To find a way to get Yuki out of this trap.
And when I know enough... when I find them...
Then I won't make any noise. I won't challenge you.
I'll just disappear.
And I'll take everything they're trying so hard to hide with me.
The door clicked. I didn't turn my head. He didn't show that he noticed.
—The Patriarch is waiting for you in class," the maid Agatha's voice was as steady as ever.
I slowly looked up at her. My face was an empty mask. Without thoughts. Without emotion. Without a story.
I nodded. Once. Briefly.
And he got up to follow her in silence.
Not to learn.
And to start your real hunt. Quiet. Invisible.
The hunt for the truth.