Volume 7, Chapter 17 – Anxiety, Relief, and Drawing Closer

A tranquil night.

Three days had passed since the change in Anastasia’s soul. Fia remained buried within the archives. Because she read at such an incredible pace, Claire could no longer keep up on her own. Now, the task of transporting books had been handed over to the manor’s maids. They carried potentially useful volumes from the Forbidden Library and the various Elemental Towers to the Twilight Palace, then returned the books Fia had already vetted and deemed useless to their original places. Consequently, the Twilight Palace had become exceptionally lively.

However, this liveliness was only apparent to outsiders. To those familiar with Fia, they didn’t see this as a good sign. Fia hadn’t slept at all, and even her meals were extremely brief. Anyone could see the anxiety burning in her heart. She was more worried about Anastasia’s condition than anyone else; even a moment’s relaxation brought on an indescribable sense of guilt.

“Tsk.”

Clicking her tongue sharply, Fia set aside the ancient tome in her hands. The heavy book hit the table with a dull thud, sending a faint cloud of dust into the air.

Sitting at the side of the desk, Claire—who was also holding an ancient text—put her book down. Her clear green eyes reflected her concern as she watched Fia. Her lips parted, her silver hair swaying slightly as she hesitated for a moment before speaking softly.

“Not this one either?”

“No,” Fia replied, her brow furrowed as she sat stiffly at the desk. Finding an outlet for her frustration, her voice was thick with complaint. “There’s too little useful information. I can’t find a single precedent that matches Anastasia’s situation. While some books mention the possibility of another identical world, or theories that a Holy Son is formed because the world’s protective shell is too fragile, these are all baseless conjectures. They’re useless.”

That’s not what I meant.

Claire answered silently in her heart, pausing for a beat.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit? You haven’t slept in days. Pushing yourself like this will only decrease your efficiency.”

“I can’t. No one knows what Anastasia is going through right now. My constitution allows me to maintain normal cognitive function without sleep; at most, it’s just uncomfortable. If I feel my efficiency dropping, I’ll sleep, but not now. It’s late, Claire—you should go to bed first.”

“Your eyes are already bloodshot.” As she spoke, Claire stood up. She pressed a hand firmly onto the stack of books, preventing Fia from picking up a new one. “I know you’re worried about Anastasia, Fia, but you need to look at it from her perspective. If she knew you were neglecting your body like this, she would stop you herself.”

“That side is being consumed by Chaos. No one knows how long the Alliance can hold out. Claire, don’t stop me.”

A note of impatience crept into Fia’s voice. If the person holding down the books had been anyone other than Claire, she would have already snapped. Over the past three days, she had read an untold number of books, scouring almost every ancient text in the Royal Castle related to the soul, yet she had come up empty-handed.

As time ticked away, her heart burned with increasing agony over Anastasia’s predicament. Anastasia was the woman who had given her a new life, a woman unique and irreplaceable to her. If Anastasia hadn’t desperately clung to her and accepted her back then, the person known as Dofilia wouldn’t even exist today. Anastasia was the one who had brought her into this world full of light. Now that Anastasia was trapped in a place that seemed as hopeless as the bottom of a well, it was her turn to save her.

Yet the situation was full of uncertainty. No one knew if Anastasia would recklessly seek out the Elf soldiers. Once Anastasia left the village, Fia might never be able to bring her back. If she hadn’t been able to confirm Anastasia was still alive through the Mana Surge of the one before her, she wouldn’t have known how to stay sane.

She felt like a headless fly trapped in a bottle—unable to find an exit, only able to comfort herself by frantically flapping her wings.

“But continuing like this won’t yield results. You know it too, Fia. The anomaly happening to Anastasia has never occurred before. You’ve flipped through every book in the Royal Castle. If the knowledge isn’t even in the Holy Tree’s Forbidden Library, what kind of book could possibly hold the answer? You’re just torturing yourself. You’re using this as self-consolation, making yourself feel like you’re working hard so you don’t feel like you’ve failed her.”

“Self-consolation? Claire, are you saying you aren’t worried about Anastasia?!”

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As if a raw nerve had been touched, Fia snapped her head up, glaring into Claire’s eyes.

Claire didn’t flinch. Her gaze remained calm and steady.

“Of course I am worried about her. But Fia, working hard in a useless direction won’t solve the problem. Your anger right now proves that you understand deep down that continuing this way is futile. If it were anyone else stopping you, you would have turned into someone else entirely by now. Change your approach, Fia. Continuing like this is just lying to yourself.”

A surge of nameless fury raced through Fia’s body, causing the muscles in her arms to tense with strength. Her breathing became heavy. Had it been anyone else, she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from grabbing them by the collar and demanding to know if they cared about Anastasia at all before throwing them out of the library. But the person before her was Claire. No matter how angry she got, she couldn’t lay a finger on her.

She took a deep breath to suppress her rage, only speaking after several seconds.

“Then what does Claire suggest we do?”

“I don’t know, but I’m certain you can find a lead. What you need is to be calm and find the right direction. Staying here is meaningless. Listen to me—go back and rest. We’ll discuss this again once you wake up.”

As she finished speaking, Claire ignored the powder keg that was Fia. She took Fia’s hand and pulled her into a gentle embrace. Over the past few days, she had watched the anxiety in Fia’s eyes worsen until the whites were webbed with red. This morning, Liti and the others had wanted to come and distract Fia to get her to rest, but Claire had turned them away. Now that they had exhausted the Royal Castle’s archives and even Laplace’s research to no avail, Claire truly didn’t believe a breakthrough was hidden in these books.

“And look at the current Anastasia. Because you’ve been cooped up in the library all day, she can’t calm down either; she feels like she’s a burden to you. Anastasia isn’t someone without her own opinions or someone who acts recklessly. If she really is in that other world, she’ll adapt quickly to protect herself and wait for you to find her. Time isn’t as tight as you imagine.”

“…”

Feeling the warmth and fragrance of Claire’s soft chest against her, and hearing the slightly rapid beat of Claire’s heart, Fia kept her lips tightly pressed together and didn’t answer. She knew Claire was right—this was likely a fool’s errand. But as Claire said, she didn’t have any other viable method.

The more clearly she realized this, the more anxious she became. She had even started intentionally slowing down her reading, subconsciously believing that as long as the books weren’t finished, the hope of finding a lead wouldn’t vanish. It was as if by not seeing the end of the pile, the problem didn’t exist.

But if she didn’t keep searching the ancient texts, how else was she supposed to bring Anastasia back…

The realization brought that familiar sense of dread back to her mind. As if sensing Fia’s unease, Claire held her even tighter, using her own body to soothe Fia’s anxiety, her cheek resting gently against Fia’s forehead.

“The more you try to think while you’re anxious, the easier it is to get trapped in a loop. Stop thinking about these things tonight. Let’s go back to your room.”

The soft voice seemed to carry a hint of magic, like an invisible hand smoothing over her internal turmoil. Fia suddenly felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her, though the sensation vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. She snapped awake and realized her face was buried in Claire’s chest. Whether it was the faint medicinal scent or the soft sensation through the fabric, it made her feel shy. This was Claire’s unique, intoxicating feminine charm; if she wasn’t careful, she would lose herself in it. She gently pushed Claire away, her eyes fixed on the floor.

“I would have rested even without you using magic on me, Claire. But I want to finish the remaining books on the desk before I go back.”

Just as Fia said, that sudden drowsiness had been Claire quietly casting a spell. It wasn’t a low-tier spell either; Fia felt that even if Helian were here, she would have collapsed instantly. But Fia, like Claire, was an anomaly—Claire’s magic didn’t work on her.

Claire gave a wry smile at her failed magic.

“Even my magic doesn’t work. Maybe the Chaos of this world hasn’t turned into a disaster yet because it’s sensed your presence and got scared.”

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Claire glanced at Fia’s ruby-like eyes. They weren’t as dangerously restless as before. Relieved, she stepped forward like a gentle, caring older sister and lightly stroked Fia’s long black hair.

“Then I’ll go back to the room and wait for you.”

“Okay.”

If Fia had been any more stubborn, Claire would have had to use more extreme measures—even if it meant wearing something indecent to seduce her—just to distract this stubborn idiot. Claire sighed inwardly, glad that Fia wasn’t quite that headstrong.

Wasting no more time, Claire turned and left the archives. She pushed open the heavy doors and found Anastasia hiding by the entrance. The latter jumped in surprise and hurriedly lowered her head in embarrassment, looking as timid as a maid who had done something wrong.

She was probably worried about Fia too, but given her position, she didn’t know how to advise her, so she could only hide at the door.

She’s a poor soul too.

Feeling a pang of pity, Claire whispered a reminder.

“Fia is inside. She’s regained her composure. If you have something to say, say it now.”

“Th-thank you, Lady Claire…”

“It’s nothing. If the Fia in your world is resurrected, we’ll eventually meet as well. That’s all—I’m heading back.”

Offering Anastasia a smile, Claire disappeared down the hallway.

So this is Dofi’s fiancée…

Watching Claire leave, Anastasia felt a wave of hesitation.

Just as Claire had guessed, she had come out of concern for Fia. To stay awake for three days straight was something she could handle as a former warrior, even if she’d be sluggish and lose focus, but seeing Fia do it made her restless. Especially knowing Fia was so desperate to bring back the “real” Anastasia, she felt a profound sense of guilt—as if she were the culprit. If she didn’t exist, Fia wouldn’t be overtaxing herself like this.

She had originally intended to storm into the archives and stop Fia even at the risk of being hated, but now that this woman named Claire had done it for her, she felt entirely redundant. Over the past few days, she had spoken with Claire many times and realized she was a virtuous, gentle, powerful, and wise woman. Combined with a beauty that surpassed even the Elves, Anastasia felt like a common country girl standing before her.

What a charming woman. She and Dofi really are a match made in heaven.

Still, I never expected Her Highness to end up liking women. How did she overcome the opposition of the nobles and the King… No, considering how cold and taciturn Dofi used to be, maybe the nobles and His Majesty were just thrilled she liked anyone at all.

Thinking further, a Queen’s consort probably wouldn’t be limited to one. With this precedent, there would likely be many more in the future. Euphimilu, for instance, was likely one—practically a bride raised from childhood.

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It felt a bit rude to think that way, but Euphimilu blushed whenever the Princess’s name was mentioned, and the wings by her ears would flutter nonstop; it was hard not to see the romantic tension. Then there was Erin Slate—an ideal candidate. She had the elegance of a noble lady, the title of Sword Saint, and a maturity that could assist the Princess in her work.

Anastasia could easily imagine Erin Slate supporting Fia. Although Erin had been an exiled criminal in the past, her status had been cleared the moment Fia brought her back. Those two were also a perfect match.

If being pardoned means they can be together, then since His Majesty pardoned me…

No, I’m just an outsider. Even if it were Anastasia’s turn, it wouldn’t be me.

Anastasia quickly shook the forbidden thought from her head. She found herself wandering into the half-open archives. Only after she heard the sound of pages turning did she realize she shouldn’t be here—Claire had already handled everything.

Damn it, I was daydreaming.

Anastasia’s entire body went stiff. She hid in the shadows of a bookshelf and began to back away in a crouch, hoping Fia hadn’t noticed her so she could slip away. But before she could take two steps, Fia’s cool voice echoed through the vast room.

“Anastasia?”

Hearing her name, Anastasia froze, her expression stiff like a rusted machine.

At this point, I have to see it through.

Tensing her expression, she gathered her courage and stepped out from behind the shelf. Fia had already turned off the magical lights illuminating the library, leaving only the desk lamp. The warm yellow light cast a glow on Fia’s focused profile, reminding Anastasia of the times she had spent with the Eldest Princess. Although she couldn’t understand the magic books the Princess read, simply standing behind her and watching her serious face had always brought her immense satisfaction.

“How… how did you know it was me, Your Highness?”

“Footsteps.”

“But it could have been anyone. Besides, the ‘me’ standing here isn’t the same person you know…”

“Your habits are identical. You can’t help but daydream when you’re around me, and then you forget to control the sound of your steps. Once you snap back to reality, your steps suddenly become very light. No one else in the Twilight Palace walks like that. Furthermore, there’s only a fifteen-year gap between you and the Anastasia here. Since the moment I was hit by the Unsinkable Moon, you spent fourteen years in that world, while my Anastasia spent one year here. Fifteen years is quite short for an Elf; it’s only natural that your habits haven’t changed.”

Fia didn’t look up as she spoke, continuing to flip through the ancient texts at a speed that left Anastasia speechless.

Anastasia hesitantly approached the desk. She leaned down slightly to observe Fia’s face and asked timidly.

“You… you don’t seem as restless as you were during the day…”

Only then did Fia look up, her face filled with curiosity.

“Why do you say that?”

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“If it were the version of you from earlier today, you wouldn’t have been willing to say so much to me.”

“Hmm… true. Claire reminded me that I was being a bit too rigid.”

Fia snapped the book shut with a clap . She sat up straight and gave a self-deprecating smile.

“I failed to consider your feelings these past few days and left you in a state of constant fear. I’m sorry. I’ve looked through so many books and found nothing; continuing would be a waste of time. Leaving it to Laplace and the Knowledge-Seeking Demon General will yield the same result. Before you walked in, I thought of another plan. If we go to the Milcandis Holy Kingdom and make the Pope hand over the divine oracle, we might get an answer from the Goddess of Life.”

Fia’s reasoning was simple: just because the Goddess of Life didn’t know how to break Claire’s curse didn’t mean she wouldn’t understand the anomaly with Anastasia. Anyone could read a book, but only Fia could force a Pope to surrender a divine oracle.

Anastasia waved her hands frantically. While she was happy Fia was considering her, such a formal apology felt too heavy. She was just a lowly servant, no better than a slave; she didn’t deserve an apology from her master.

“No, no, no! You don’t need to apologize to me. It’s a fact that I’ve taken over Anastasia’s body. Being able to live a life like this already feels like I’ve reached heaven.”

“Then how have you been lately? Have you gotten to know Claire and Milu? Oh, right—Father came to see me a few days ago regarding Kalsey. He said he met you and that he won’t pursue the past anymore. You can act more naturally in the palace from now on. If any noble dares to talk behind your back, tell me their name and I’ll tear their mouth off.”

“I couldn’t possibly…”

Despite her words, Anastasia was acting like a maiden in love, shyly clutching the hem of her maid outfit. She had never heard the Eldest Princess say something so domineering for her sake. To tear a noble’s mouth off for a mere maid was unthinkable in any country—it was the mark of a tyrannical autocrat. But she couldn’t deny the joy blooming in her heart at being protected and cared for by her master. It was as if her status as “his property” had been officially recognized, and no one could take it away.

No, Anastasia, you can’t be like this.

Realizing she couldn’t let the conversation continue this way, she quickly changed the subject.

“As for problems… I have encountered a small one…”

“What is it?”

Fia tilted her head.

Anastasia’s eyes began to wander across the floor, and her hands gripped her skirt tighter.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking… exactly what kind of attitude should I have when facing you and the people around you…?”