The silence after they left lingered longer than it should have.
Seraphina remained standing near the center of the room.
Still.
Thinking.
Her instincts refused to rest.
Because nothing about this place made sense.
The peach blossom mark.
The disciplined assassins.
The hidden estate.
And most disturbing of all—
the familiarity she felt around them.
Minutes passed.
Or maybe longer.
Time felt strange here.
Controlled.
Measured by someone else.
Then—
he door opened again.
Softly.
The same two masked figures entered.
Silent as before.
One carried fresh bandages.
The other a tray with new tea.
Routine.
Almost domestic.
Seraphina watched them carefully.
Their height.
Their posture.
The way they moved around each other without speaking.
Synchronized.
Natural.
Too natural.
The taller one approached slowly.
"…Your fever reduced."
His voice was calm.
Familiar.
Painfully familiar.
Her eyes narrowed instantly.
Not because of the words—
but the tone.
That voice.
'No.'
'Impossible.'
The younger assassin set the tray down near the bed.
Avoiding eye contact entirely.
Seraphina stepped forward slowly.
Ignoring the pain in her side.
"…Take off the masks."
Silence.
Neither moved.
Her voice sharpened.
"…Now."
The two assassins exchanged a glance.
Brief.
Unreadable.
Then—
slowly—
the younger one reached upward first.
Removing the black mask carefully.
Seraphina froze.
Dark hair.
Sharp eyes.
Familiar features she had known since childhood.
"…Luca…"
The name escaped her before she could stop it.
The second assassin removed his mask too.
And the world seemed to tilt beneath her feet.
"…Dante…"
Her brothers.
Not illusions.
Not copies.
Real.
Standing directly in front of her.
Alive.
Unharmed.
Emotion struck harder than any blade ever could.
For the first time in a long while—
Seraphina's composure cracked visibly.
"You're alive…"
She stepped toward them immediately.
Relief flooding through her voice.
"…I searched everywhere— father was worried—"
Neither reacted.
The warmth in her expression slowly faded.
Because both of them were simply…
looking at her.
Polite.
Calm.
Empty.
No recognition.
Luca tilted his head slightly.
"…Lady Seraphina."
Formal.
Too formal.
Dante lowered his gaze respectfully.
"…You shouldn't stand for long. Your injuries aren't fully healed."
Seraphina stared at them.
Confusion spreading slowly beneath her skin.
"…What are you doing?"
No response.
"…Stop joking."
Silence again.
Her chest tightened.
Because they weren't pretending.
They genuinely looked at her like she was—
someone distant.
Someone important.
But not—
their sister.
"Luca."
She stepped closer.
Too fast.
Emotion overpowering caution.
"You disappeared— both of you disappeared—"
Her voice trembled slightly now.
Not from fear.
From disbelief.
"…Look at me properly."
Luca finally met her eyes fully.
Calm.
Respectful.
And completely unfamiliar.
"…I am looking, Lady Seraphina."
The words hit like ice water.
"No."
She shook her head immediately.
"No, stop saying that."
Dante moved slightly.
Not toward her.
Instinctively defensive.
As though unsure how unstable the situation might become.
That hurt more than anything else.
"…It's me," she whispered.
"…Sera."
Nothing.
Luca frowned slightly.
Subtle confusion crossing his features.
Not emotional confusion.
Practical confusion.
"…You require rest."
Seraphina's breathing became uneven.
Because now—
she understood.
They truly didn't remember.
Not partially.
Not damaged memories.
Gone.
She grabbed Luca's wrist suddenly.
Desperate.
"…You used to hide under my bed during storms because you hated thunder."
Silence.
"…Dante broke father's antique clock and blamed me for it."
No reaction.
"…You both used to sneak into my room at night because you were scared of the west wing."
Still—
nothing.
Luca slowly removed her hand from his wrist.
Gentle.
But detached.
"…I apologize if this causes distress."
Distress.
Not pain.
Not grief.
Distress.
Like she was a patient.
Not family.
Seraphina stepped backward slowly.
Her chest tightening harder.
"…What did they do to you…?"
Neither answered.
Because neither understood the question.
Dante finally spoke quietly.
"…We have served the House for years."
House?
What house?
"…What house?"
A pause.
Then—
"…The Wolf House."
The room fell silent instantly.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Seraphina's eyes widened slightly.
Because they said it naturally.
Without fear.
Without hesitation.
Like lifelong loyalty.
Impossible.
The De Luca heirs would never kneel to another house.
Especially not willingly.
Unless—
Her thoughts stopped abruptly.
Because she suddenly remembered something terrifying.
The illusion chamber.
The manipulation.
The mental conditioning.
The control systems.
And for the first time—
true fear crawled into her chest.
Not for herself.
For them.
"…Who did this to you?"
Silence.
Luca and Dante exchanged another brief glance.
Then Dante answered calmly.
"…No one harmed us."
That answer terrified her even more.
Because he believed it.
Completely.
A soft knock suddenly echoed from outside the room.
Three precise taps.
Both brothers straightened instantly.
Their entire demeanor sharpening.
Disciplined.
Alert.
Then—
they bowed slightly toward the door.
Not out of fear.
Out of absolute respect.
Seraphina noticed immediately.
And her stomach sank.
Because whoever stood outside that door—
held enough power to command even them.
The door handle slowly turned.
And both brothers lowered their heads further.
"…Master."
Seraphina's pulse stopped for a single terrifying second.