Volume 1, Chapter 17 – Rebirth

Now, whether she stayed or left hinged entirely on Anastasia’s next words.

At this thought, Fia’s hand holding the teacup trembled slightly from nervousness, forcing her to set it back on the table. Only then did she realize that, in just this short while, her clothes had already been soaked with sweat.

She felt like a criminal about to ascend the gallows, her inner turmoil making her breathing ragged. To steady herself, she took a deep breath and turned her gaze toward Anastasia, who sat across from her.

But Anastasia was no longer in her seat.

“An—”

“Your Highness.”

Suddenly, warmth touched her shoulders, then spread across her back, and finally to her neck and cheeks.

Anastasia had gently embraced Fia from behind, pressing her cheek against Fia’s. As if cradling an infant, Anastasia spoke in a tender, motherly tone.

“You… are trembling so much. Are you afraid?”

“N-no—”

Fia tried to deny it, but the words vanished before they could leave her lips.

This was exactly what she had longed for.

Reаⅾ oո KatRеаdiոɡCаfe

This warmth, and the care hidden within it.

For a moment, Fia’s heart wavered violently again. She feared that Anastasia would reject her once the truth came out. Right now, if she said nothing, she could avoid the consequences of honesty and simply indulge in this moment.

Indulge in the way Anastasia held her gently to comfort her, offering an incomparable sense of security.

She completely forgot how intimate Anastasia’s actions were, nor did she realize that Anastasia was a woman she had known for less than a day. All she felt from Anastasia now was familial concern—a warmth like lying on sunlit grass in spring, basking in the soothing rays.

“Though it may harm Your Highness’s reputation to show such childlike fear, given your memory loss, there’s no helping it. Still, I will protect you and ensure you return safely to the capital, unharmed. You may have forgotten, but I have not. I swore to be your sword, to never fail you.”

Her voice remained soft, so tender it seemed to seep into the skin and gently envelop the heart.

Yet when Fia heard those last words, her fervently beating heart quickly cooled. Emotion had dominated her entirely moments ago, but now, reason gradually steadied her mind.

She had not come here to cower like a frightened child, but to seek answers bravely, like a warrior.

Fia’s trembling ceased. Calmed, she gently freed herself from Anastasia’s embrace and turned around. Drawing a deep breath, she met Anastasia with a voice as gentle as the embrace she had just received.

“Anastasia, I didn’t have time to finish earlier. At the time, you thought I was simply suffering from memory loss due to severe injury—that I was still myself. But my answer was, ‘That’s not the case.'”

Though courage filled her chest, Fia still hesitated at this point.

“If it were just memory loss, my mind wouldn’t be filled with other memories—ones that don’t belong to this world, entirely different histories, cultures, languages, even the fundamental laws that shape reality. Yes, you heard correctly. My mind is filled with memories that don’t belong to the elf princess. Even so, do you still believe I am her?”

Reαd oո ΚаtRеαԁіոɡСafe

Silence fell over the room the moment her words ended.

The world seemed utterly still, as if a god had pressed pause, freezing time in place.

Only the sound of Fia’s pounding heart remained.

She resisted the urge to look away, staring intently into Anastasia’s eyes, unwilling to miss even the slightest shift in her expression.

If there was a definition of “an eternity in a second,” this was it.

She didn’t know how long it lasted—perhaps a breath or two, perhaps a quarter of an hour, or even longer. Just as Fia began to think all was lost, even preparing to bid farewell, Anastasia finally raised her right hand, brushed the golden hair that had drifted to her forehead behind her ears before responding with a puzzled expression.

“But you’re still you, aren’t you? The mana surge proves everything.”

“Listen, I have memories from another world. Even so—”

“Even so, you are still you. I don’t fully understand what you mean by ‘memories from another world,’ but I know the mana surge within you hasn’t changed in the slightest. That alone confirms your identity. Even if His Majesty the King were here, he wouldn’t dismiss you as someone else just because of these… ramblings.”

As she spoke, Anastasia knelt, lowering herself slightly below Fia’s eye level. She took Fia’s cold hands from her lap and cradled them gently on her own.

“These foreign memories might be side effects of the ‘Unsinkable Moon’—perhaps remnants of souls it once killed, or wandering spirits that clung to your body while you were in a deathlike state. But no matter the cause, you are still Dofilia Alexia Yushir, the Crown Princess of the Elven Kingdom of Silvar, the prodigy of our age.”

Rеаⅾ οn ΚαtRеaⅾіngCаfе

Anastasia paused, her blue eyes clouded with an indistinct, unidentifiable emotion.

“And my half-sister. The sun who pulled me from the mud.”

S-so… Anastasia, you accept me?”

“I’ve never pushed you away.”

Her soothing tone carried unwavering conviction.

Though Anastasia’s answer was simple, it was undeniably an affirmation. And Fia had already prepared herself—no matter how Anastasia phrased her acceptance, no matter the reason or emotion behind it, she would become the person Anastasia believed her to be.

She would become the elf princess. That distant, yet now tangible, existence.

Through effort—through redoubled effort—she would surpass even the original Dofilia, becoming the greatest elf princess the world had ever seen.

And all of it began with this elf maiden’s affirmation tonight.

It allowed her to move forward without guilt or hesitation.

A sting rose in her nose. Fia’s ruby-like eyes widened slightly, her long lashes trembling as tears pooled at their corners. She pressed her lips together tightly, as if holding back sobs, and swallowed repeatedly. But it was no use. Not wanting Anastasia to see her in such a state, she covered her mouth with a hand.

Anastasia flustered immediately, straightening and leaning closer in alarm.

Rеаԁ оn ΚαtRеαⅾіոɡСаfе

“W-was Your Highness truly so afraid that ‘you weren’t you’?”

“I… ah—”

The moment she spoke, Fia could no longer hold back a whimper. Then, like a flood bursting through a dam, her emotions overwhelmed reason. Clutching Anastasia, she broke into loud, wracking sobs.

It was embarrassing—yet so comforting.

No longer did she have to tread carefully, alone. Now, she had someone solid to rely on.

“A-Anastasia… th-thank you… thank you.”

“Your Highness, please don’t say such things… I-I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Fia’s tearful gratitude left the ever-calm, composed Anastasia at a complete loss.

But one thing was certain: for Fia, this night would be one of unparalleled peace.

No more walking alone. No more searching for a reason to live. In this moment, bound by an intoxicating, almost drug-like bond, the elf princess had found her purpose.

It was a rare and precious gift—bestowed by the gods themselves.