As Anastasia wandered around her room, her cold eyes taking in every detail of the place, she heard a light knock at the door—but the door opened immediately before she could give permission to enter.
Anastasia froze in place, looking toward the entrance, to find the head maid standing there. She was a stern-looking woman, her gray hair tightly pulled back, dressed in black attire that amplified her authority.
She stepped forward confidently, not bothering even to bow in respect to the occupant of the new room. She stood in front of Anastasia, staring at her with a sharp gaze, while her silence filled the tense atmosphere.
"Do you think this is acceptable? Entering my room without asking?"
Anastasia spoke coldly, without bothering to look at the woman standing there, who radiated an aura of silent anger.
The head maid completely ignored the question, speaking in a dry tone:
"I am here by Lord Nathan's orders. He requested that you come to the main hall for dinner at the appointed time."
Anastasia raised her now-violet eyes toward the woman, trying to read her intentions, which were as clear as a still water surface: hatred, doubt, and hidden contempt behind words that seemed formal.
"His command is strange, isn't it?"
Anastasia said in a calm, almost sarcastic tone.
"A man without a sister presents me as one. I see that this bothers you greatly."
"And do I seem like someone who needs to exploit others?"
Anastasia asked, rising from her seat, her steps light but radiating hidden strength. She moved a few steps closer, standing before the woman, who remained firm despite her inner discomfort.
"It doesn't matter what I think," said the head maid, trying to restrain her anger.
"But I will stay here to protect him from you and people like you."
Anastasia smiled a calm, warmthless smile, before whispering coldly:
"And I will stay here to see exactly how you intend to do that."
The head maid did not reply, instead turning her back and leaving the room with angry steps this time, leaving Anastasia alone.
As Anastasia wandered the room after the head maid left, she decided to explore the palace she had found herself in. The place was strangely quiet, yet she felt an uneasy presence accompanying her steps. Her cold, commanding aura would usually make anyone think twice before approaching her, but this time she felt something different, as if eyes were watching her from afar.
She suddenly stopped, turning toward a shadow behind a column, and said in a low but clear voice:
"Why not show yourself instead of hiding?"
A young man appeared, evidently a servant from his attire, pale-faced and tense. He tried to bow in apology, but his nervousness was obvious.
"I apologize, my lady… I did not mean to disturb you. I was just… doing my duty."
Anastasia looked at him with a steely gaze and said coldly:
"Your duty? It seems you are watching me too closely to convince me of that."
The servant stepped back, flustered by her direct confrontation.
"I… I was merely passing by you. There was no intention, I swear."
Anastasia sensed his anxiety. She could easily read his emotions: fear was obvious, but so was curiosity. She raised an eyebrow and asked in a more serious tone:
"If you're this afraid of me, why insist on provoking me with unjustified actions?"
The young man stammered again:
"I… I don't think I… it's just…"
She interrupted him.
"Listen… what is your name?"
"John, my lady."
She smiled lightly, a smile carrying a warning:
"John, I will give you only one piece of advice. Think carefully about who you deal with, and do not let your fears or illusions make you miss an opportunity to stay safe."
John looked at her silently, as if absorbing her words.
Anastasia responded in a calm tone, with a hint of sarcasm:
"Since you're here, maybe you can be useful. Why not show me around? This place seems large enough to need a guide."
He looked puzzled for a moment but mustered his courage and replied:
"Of course, my lady. I'll be happy to accompany you."
She nodded lightly:
"Very well, let's start the tour then, and I hope you prove to be a good guide, John."
As Anastasia walked through the palace with John, she took the opportunity to question him indirectly. Speaking in her calm, unreadable style, she asked:
"This place seems full of stories, doesn't it? There must be many important people here, like the head maid, for example. She seems like a significant figure."
John hesitated for a moment but replied lightly, trying to seem natural:
"Yes, Lady Margaret is indeed an important figure. She has been with the Count since he was young."
Anastasia raised an eyebrow slightly, encouraging him to continue without interruption.
"She… actually, she was his governess. She took care of him since childhood, especially after his mother passed away. She was a constant shadow beside him, so when Nathan Blackwood became Count, one of his first acts was to reward her. He gave her a respected position in the palace, and she became head maid."
Anastasia observed John's subtle expressions, noticing how his conversation became awkward. It seemed he realized he had said more than he should have, and he tried to change the topic quickly.
"Anyway, the palace has many grand rooms and beautiful gardens. Would you like to see the library? It's a very special place here."
Anastasia smiled, her eyes gleaming with knowing curiosity. She said calmly but with a hidden meaning:
"The library seems interesting, but I think talking about people can be even more fascinating. Don't you agree?"
John looked at her shyly, tinged with fear. She sensed a mix of regret and anxiety in his intentions. Perhaps he felt he had revealed too much or crossed boundaries by discussing the head maid and the Count.
Seeing Anastasia insist on discussing Lady Margaret, John felt increasing pressure. He paused, trying to control his anxiety, then decided to change the topic quickly:
"Perhaps instead of talking about people, I can tell you about a special place here. The library in this palace is not an ordinary one—it contains books that cannot be found anywhere else."
Anastasia stopped walking, her eyes mixing curiosity with analytical thought, then asked:
"Unique books? It seems your master has a penchant for collecting rare things."
John nodded quickly, trying to appear more confident this time:
"Yes, Count Blackwood has a special interest in books. It is said that his private collection even surpasses the Emperor's own library. Each book here has a story, some handwritten by authors whose works were never published."
Anastasia noticed his clear attempt to shift the conversation away from the previous topic but decided to allow him this temporary escape. She smiled lightly and said:
"Interesting. Then the library deserves a visit. Take me there."
John visibly relaxed and gestured toward the long corridor leading to the library:
"This way, my lady. I promise you won't regret visiting it."
Anastasia followed him, showing interest in the library, though her mind worked quietly, analyzing John's words and quick responses. Perhaps the library held more than just rare books.
Upon reaching the library, Anastasia stopped before the large door adorned with intricate carvings, reflecting the importance of what lay beyond. Her expression was calm, her violet eyes scrutinizing the details as if assessing the place before entering.
Behind her, John bowed shyly, then said softly:
"My lady, this concludes my tour with you. The library is very private; only the Count is allowed inside."
Anastasia stopped staring at the door and turned to him with a soft yet curious question:
"And what makes it so exclusive?"
John answered quickly, as if justifying:
"The library holds a unique collection of books the Count has gathered over the years. It is said to be one of the greatest collections in the kingdom, even the Emperor himself does not have a comparable library."
Anastasia contemplated the door for a moment, then looked back at John, speaking in a calm tone:
"And you, why did you stop here?"
John smiled faintly, hiding his nervousness, and replied:
"As a servant, I am not allowed to pass this door. But since you're… his sister, I am confident the Count would not object."
Anastasia nodded lightly, ignoring his hesitation, and said:
"Thank you for accompanying me. You may leave now."
John bowed once more respectfully, then turned and left quietly, leaving Anastasia alone before the library door.
She gently pushed the massive door open, revealing a vast library that seemed like a repository of ancient knowledge. The distinctive scent of old books and paper filled the space, while the shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, crammed with hundreds of carefully arranged books. In the corners, candles cast a soft glow, giving warmth to the tranquil atmosphere.
She walked slowly toward a nearby shelf. The books were remarkably varied: large volumes with engraved leather covers, alongside smaller, simply bound books. She picked up one, its title written in golden script:
"Ancient Legends and Forgotten Heroes."
Opening it, she flipped through tales of great heroes and fallen kingdoms, illustrated with delicate drawings. She paused at a page showing a massive battle between human armies and strange creatures.
"Nathan has an interesting taste in books," she murmured with a light smile, returning the book to its place. She moved to another shelf, finding books on magic, rare plants, and ancient maps. One title caught her eye: The Art of Political Wars. She picked it up to browse.
The book was a strategic guide filled with advice and tactics for navigating intrigues and political schemes. After a few moments, she closed it, thinking:
"This is not merely a place to store books—it's a reflection of Nathan himself."
She continued her exploration, discovering a small section dedicated to novels. Titles ranged from romance to adventures in fantastical worlds.
A genuine, warm smile crept across her face, unlike her usual cold, sarcastic ones. She immediately thought of her sister Olivia, who used to devour such books with passion as a teenager.
Her mind wandered back to the day Olivia, at sixteen, sat in the palace garden under a blossoming cherry tree, reading a romance novel intently. Her youthful features brightened with each page, as if immersed in a distant world of love and dreams.
Flashback
Anastasia approached her quietly and sat beside her without speaking. Olivia suddenly looked up, tension showing on her face, as if fearing punishment for reading something forbidden.
"What's this book?" Anastasia asked coldly, reaching for it.
Olivia tried to hold on to it, but Anastasia's insistence prevailed. With pleading eyes, Olivia whispered:
"It's just a romance novel, please don't tell anyone."
Anastasia looked at the cover, skimmed a few lines, then closed it and said calmly but firmly:
"Olivia, this type of book isn't suitable for your age yet."
Sadness appeared on Olivia's face, but she said nothing. She feared her book would be taken. Anastasia, noticing this, smiled rarely and softly:
"I promise you something. When you're old enough, I'll give you all the romance novels you love. But for now, you must focus on more important things."
It was a rare moment between them, and Olivia felt her older sister truly cared despite her usual coldness. She kept that promise in her heart, waiting for the day her sister would bring her favorite novels.
End Flashback
Returning to the library, Anastasia picked up a novel, examined it thoughtfully, then returned it to its place. She muttered softly:
"Olivia, if you were here, you would have loved this place."
Her violet eyes were calm, yet they carried a mix of nostalgia and sadness. She continued her exploration, but that memory lingered like a faint shadow.
As Anastasia returned a book to its shelf, she felt the subtle presence she had never missed. Someone was watching her silently, but she gave no sign of noticing. She remained calm, flipping the pages with casual grace, then said in a confident, cold voice:
"Is watching people a common habit here at Blackwood Palace… Nathan?"
A short silence followed, then soft footsteps echoed inside the library. Nathan Blackwood emerged from the shadows, standing by the carved door, his violet eyes glinting with curiosity as he looked at her intently.
"I didn't know you could smile like that," he said in a deep voice, his tone blending seriousness and amusement, as if discovering a side of her he hadn't expected.
Anastasia slowly turned to face him, regaining her usual cold demeanor. She looked at him steadily and replied calmly, with a hint of sarcasm:
"Oh, it seems you're imagining things, my lord. I don't think I did anything worth noting."
Nathan smiled faintly, a smile that conveyed more than it seemed, and stepped closer, watching her as if trying to unravel the mysteries of her personality.
"Really? Then what were you thinking to show that rare expression on your face?"
"I was thinking of something that doesn't concern you, Nathan," she said coldly, returning her gaze to the bookshelf.
She made no attempt to continue the conversation, though his gaze lingered on her, piquing his curiosity more than usual.
"Strange," Nathan murmured, as if to himself. Then he added:
"Usually, people smile when they remember something happy.
I don't see you as someone who carries happy memories."
Anastasia raised an eyebrow slightly, not turning toward him this time, and said coldly:
"It seems you like projecting your assumptions onto others, but I'll tell you one thing. Even if there are memories, they belong to me alone, and they are not up for discussion."
Nathan nodded slightly, then stepped back, though the attentive look in his eyes did not fade.
He took a few careful steps inside, glancing toward a shelf filled with books as if giving himself a moment to breathe. Then he continued in a lighter tone, trying to show seriousness:
"In fact, I came to escort you to dinner. I knocked on your door many times, but it seems you were busy enough to ignore me."
He shifted his gaze toward her again, as if observing the effect of his words, then added with a faint smile:
"After not finding you there, I asked John where you were, and he told me you were here."
Despite his words, Anastasia did not move an inch. She remained standing, staring at him with cold eyes that concealed much. It seemed as if she were thinking—or analyzing his words and manner.
Then, without nodding or showing any annoyance, she said sarcastically:
"And how did you come to escort me to dinner? Didn't you tell Margaret that I should come alone? Do you wish to be my official companion for dinner now?"
Nathan paused, his expression subtly changing. Anastasia's tone was sarcastic, and her smile carried a sharp question, making him momentarily stop speaking. He quickly regained his composure, trying to hide his astonishment with a slight smile:
"Margaret…?" he said, then continued uncertainly: "I think there's some confusion regarding the instructions. You weren't supposed to be alone."
It was clear from his tone that he was trying to cover up what happened with the head maid, but he showed no genuine concern. He continued slowly, ignoring the remark:
"Anyway, dinner is ready. That's why I came."
Anastasia continued to stare at him, her gaze cold and contemplative. She didn't believe all he said but had no desire to scold him further. Instead, she said coldly, without moving from her place:
"If that's all, there's no need for more words. Let's go."
She then moved slowly toward the door, not looking back, as if choosing not to respond to his hints any further.