We arrived in Kalvena, a port city in the Yelvanti Kingdom, just as the sun was beginning to set. After that, Khan brought us to an inn. The sign above the door was painted in curling Zarethi script—the formal, looping letters used to write the Yelvanti language.
As we followed Khan inside, he spoke briefly with one of the inn's staff. The staff member handed him two keys, presumably for the rooms we'd be staying in tonight. Khan turned back toward Alessio and gave a subtle nod. Alessio returned it with a slight nod of his own, and we headed up to the second floor.
We stopped in front of two rooms, side by side.
"I'll return tomorrow. You both seem like you could use some rest," Khan said, wearing the same smug smile he'd worn all day.
"Thanks for understanding. My body's running on fumes after today's nonstop travel. I swear, my heart's been pounding in my chest the whole time—like I was expecting Marius to appear around every corner. My body's drenched in sweat and my clothes feel like old rags. Ugh, what a day."
"Pfft," Khan stifled a laugh, clearly trying not to burst out. "You're right. Here's your key, Lady Sonia. Rest well."
He handed me the key with a grin. Just as I reached for it, he suddenly took my hand and kissed the back of it.
Alessio flinched.
"Khan, that's enough. Don't push your jokes too far. Get in my room. I need to talk to you," Alessio said, his tone just a little sharper than usual, and he gave Khan a glare that hovered somewhere between 'I'm serious' and... well, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Not that it mattered — I was too distracted thinking he looked kind of cute when he got all bossy like that.
'Anyway, what a strange man. I thought this was just typical Yelvanti behavior, but judging from Alessio's reaction... maybe not.'
I giggled softly and said, "Well then, I'll head in first." I gave a small wave.
Alessio offered a slight nod before saying, "You said you had some questions for me. Come to my room tomorrow morning. Khan will be back around noon."
I nodded back and slipped into my room. Alessio and Khan exchanged a few words in Yelvanti before disappearing into Alessio's.
"Nngh." I stretched my arms high above my head, trying to shake off all the tension that had built up in my body throughout the day.
The room was neither big nor small, with a door that probably led to the bathroom.
'Alessio really planned everything thoroughly. Thank goodness we actually managed to escape the Empire.'
At the time, I thought we'd just stop briefly in Mellerfen to figure out our next steps. But I hadn't expected us to leave the Empire entirely right away.
'Well, it makes sense. Even though Mellerfen sits outside Wittelsbach's jurisdiction, it's still technically part of the Empire. And with Marius's connections everywhere, staying even half a day would've been too risky.'
I felt a wave of relief wash over me now that we were finally in a different nation—one safely beyond the Empire's borders.
I walked toward the bathroom. When I opened the door, I was surprised to find a bathtub. It wasn't nearly as luxurious as the ones back at Wittelsbach Manor—but somehow, just seeing it made me feel more at ease.
Funny, isn't it? Those fancy baths never helped me relax back there, not with everything that was going on. But this one, plain and humble as it was, actually made me feel like I could finally breathe.
Once the tub was filled with warm water, I climbed in and let my body relax.
"Huu…"
As I soaked in the water, I thought back to how the memories had started coming back. When I first woke up in this world and realized I was in Sonia Mitford's body, I also recognized Marius from the novel. But that was all. The real memories—the ones that belonged to this body—only began to surface after I saw him in person for the first time. Some were terrifying. I remembered one especially clearly: the real Sonia hiding behind a wall, pressing a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming as she watched Marius murder the household staff member.
Back then, Marius smiled after stabbing her—an eerie, detached smile that didn't belong on a sane person's face. Her hair was an odd shade of pale orange, like she'd just dyed it. I didn't know why he killed her, but I assumed she might've been a spy he'd uncovered and eliminated.
Then there was the memory of me entering a room… the details were blurry, and I couldn't quite recall what kind of room it was, only that there was a door inside that led somewhere completely different. When I stepped through, everything changed. The floor turned cold and rough beneath my feet. A dungeon. Iron bars lined both sides like prison cells. In the first one, I saw a man whose fingers had been severed and were rotting from lack of treatment. The image was burned into my mind. As I went deeper, I saw more people—men, women… their faces unclear, but I could still hear the overlapping sounds of their voices pleading for help. The last thing I remembered was running away.
The memory that returned to me back at Grandmama's cottage seemed tied to that same moment—the one I'd only vaguely recalled after seeing Marius in person. It was the room I entered just before finding the door to the dungeon. I still didn't remember how I got there, but in the memory that resurfaced the day before we left for Mellerfen, I saw portraits, letters, and countless other items...
You know, like a room decorated by a fan of their idol. Except in this case, it felt more like the lair of a deranged stalker.
Most of the portraits were of a pink-haired woman—unmistakably Sonia Mitford in her adult years. Among them was a single painting of a young girl with the same distinctive hair, cradling a cat: clearly Sonia at a younger age. Beside that were several scenic pieces—paintings of a garden at dusk, a fountain, and a stone bench.
I opened a drawer filled with envelopes—and nestled among them was a small wooden box. My hands trembled as I reached for it. I think… I was crying in that memory. I don't remember why.
Inside the box were Sonia's letters—ones she had exchanged with Marius before they ever dated, all the way through their relationship. And the envelopes in the drawer? More letters. Addressed to Sonia Mitford, but never sent.
What struck me most were the dates. The earliest ones were from twelve years before the party where Sonia and Marius supposedly met for the first time—the very event described in The Crimson Devotion.
I used to love that novel—even though Marius was described as obsessive, I thought the way he devoted his time, effort, and attention to Sonia was romantic. The book made it seem like he only got rid of people who stood in their way, but it never described how. It was all vague, more implied than shown. So when I saw him for the first time in this world—shackled to a bedpost—and the real memories began surfacing, it was terrifying. The truth was far darker than anything the novel ever hinted at.
'Reality is so much worse than fiction, huh. All the things the book glossed over… they're drenched in blood when you see them for yourself.'
I slapped my cheeks hard enough to turn them red—just to shake off the thoughts before they swallowed me whole.
"Ah, whatever. No more thinking about this stuff today. Let's just relax!"
With renewed resolve, I got out of the tub, dried my hair, got dressed, and threw myself onto the bed. All the tension left my body at once, and maybe because of that… I fell asleep almost instantly.
* * *
Chirp chirp. The sound of birds signaling that morning had arrived woke me up.
I slowly sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
The first thing I remembered was what Alessio said last night: "You said you had some questions for me. Come to my room tomorrow morning. Khan will be back around noon."
I washed my face and headed out. Once I reached Alessio's door, I knocked.
No response.
I knocked again. Still nothing.
"Sir Slovene? Are you there?"
Third knock. Silence.
"If the door's unlocked, I'm coming in."
Creak. I pushed the door open just a little—but at that exact moment, another door creaked open.
Turns out, Alessio was stepping out of the bathroom. The sound of our doors closing overlapped with a clack.
Alessio looked like he had just taken a shower, a towel slung low around his waist—and basically, he was half-naked. I could see his muscular body, his broad chest, his defined waistline, and the lower half of his body that, honestly, looked mythological when the towel slipped off and dropped to the floor with a soft plop—
Wait, WHAAAT?!
Maybe I was still half-asleep, but my gaze instinctively dropped down.
Oh.
Oh no.
We stared at each other, eyes wide, mouths parted in stunned silence.
A beat passed.
Then Alessio scrambled to pick up the towel and cover himself again, his face red as a cherry. At the same time, I shrieked—
"Aaaahh!"—and slammed the door shut with a bang.