Not so long after, the doctor announced that she could finally go home. The doctor prescribed Aeliana medicines and pain relievers in case the headaches she had been experiencing would return.

She left the hospital accompanied by Silvanus, who drove the car towards an unfamiliar place.

Aeliana grew restless.

When they arrived, the two of them stood before the gates of a massive mansion. Many thoughts crowded Aeliana’s mind, doubts gnawing at her—should she really trust this man, who still felt like a stranger to her?

The only thing she clung to in that moment was a fragile hope—that Silvanus was telling her the truth. The mansion, Silvanus claimed as his own, was empty of residents. Silvanus explained to Aeliana that from time to time, he paid people to keep the place clean and in order.

As Silvanus opened the door, Aeliana was greeted by the grandeur of the architectural design of the foyer. Everything, including the staircase that spiraled upward to the second floor, was foreign to her.

She let her gaze wander.

Silvanus stood quietly, watching her.

Aeliana lifted her eyes towards the high ceilings, scrutinizing the place. But nothing—nothing at all—seemed familiar to her.

Meanwhile, Silvanus, with his arms crossed, began walking slowly toward her. “Upstairs, our wedding photos are displayed. If you want to see them, you may go there right away.”

“Can I?” Aeliana asked, turning to see Silvanus.

Silvanus tilted his head slightly, gesturing toward the stairs with his hands. “Why not? This is our home.”

“O-okay,” Aeliana replied hesitantly. Yet she obeyed the voice inside her mind urging her forward. She wanted to be sure if the marriage Silvanus had spoken of was truly real and valid.

When she reached the top of the staircase, she found herself at a crossroad—two hallways, one to the left and one to the right. She did not know where to go. Silvanus was right behind her.

“To the left,” he said, hands tucked in his pockets.

The only time Silvanus had ever touched her was on the day she first awoke in the hospital. Since then, it seemed as though he had been reluctant, even uncertain, to lay his hands on her.

Their eyes met. Aeliana felt as though she had been burned by Silvanus's gaze, so she was the first to look away.

Aeliana focused on her path. Every step she took was accompanied by moths circling the light, and she suddenly felt like a princess in a castle she had only ever seen in fairy tales on television as a child.

Her right hand rested on the balustrade, savoring the touch of everything she saw, though she had no memory of how she used to interact with such things when her mind was a whole and fully intact.

“You have always been doing that,” Silvanus’s voice came from behind her. “Holding the balustrade when you’re near the stairs, or walking toward the right side. It was always your habit.”

Aeliana said nothing and continued walking.

Even with Silvanus’s presence—though he was still unfamiliar to her—her heart did not quicken, did not stir with any recognition of a husband.

And yet, strangely, she felt no fear. His presence made her feel safe. Comfortable.

She glanced at him. “Why don’t your parents live in this mansion?” she asked, puzzled.

Usually, children of wealthy families—such as she assumed Silvanus to be—would not neglect the welfare of their parents. Yet, Silvanus only gave her a look that was almost intoxicated, unfathomable, reluctant. And he did not answer.

Aeliana continued onward, her hand still brushing the balustrade, until at last she reached the most elegant door, the one that stood out from all the rest.

“This is our room,” Silvanus declared as he opened it.

Aeliana was immediately enveloped by an unfamiliar fragrance that seemed to rush through her veins. She closed her eyes, savoring the scent—then froze. Her brow furrowed as she glanced around the room. She took four hesitant steps inside, her body fully crossing the threshold.

Something felt… strange.

“It’s rare,” she whispered. “I don’t remember a single thing.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Silvanus said softly at her side.

Startled, Aeliana turned toward him. “Why don’t you want me to remember?”

He only shrugged, offering no reply. Aeliana’s mind began to race—did Silvanus, who claimed to be her husband, have a hidden agenda?

Yet nothing in his demeanor suggested he was dangerous. Surely her suspicion was absurd.

Her gaze shifted, and she noticed two large picture frames hung on opposite walls. Each measured twenty-four by thirty-six inches.

Her eyes dimmed with emotion. There she was in the photo—smiling, wrapped in Silvanus’s embrace from behind. Both of their eyes gleamed with a powerful expression.

It was love.

But for Aeliana, there was nothing. No stirring inside her. Instead, a heaviness sank into her chest.

She turned to Silvanus.

“What happened to me before I lost my memory?”

His eyes locked with hers, but they spoke volumes without words. Silvanus seemed unwilling to answer, bowing his head, exhaling harshly before straightening to face her again.

“Accident,” he said briefly.

Aeliana wanted to press him, to know more. But Silvanus averted his gaze, stepping backward to put distance between them.

That stopped her coldly. Why was he avoiding her?

Aeliana kept her questions within herself, recognizing Silvanus had no intention of revealing the truth. If Silvanus would not help her recover the past, then she would have to do it herself.

When night fell, the caretakers Silvanus had mentioned finally arrived—who is a man and a woman, whom appeared to be husband and wife.

To Aeliana, they were strangers. She strained her mind, trying to recall them, but the effort only worsened the pain in her head.

Standing before them, with Silvanus at her side, Aeliana noticed that the couple could not look her directly in the eyes. Their expressions—especially the woman’s—were steeped in disdain.

Silvanus turned to her.

“This is Aunt Lindy and Uncle Bob,” he introduced warmly, gesturing toward the couple. “They are the ones I trust most in this mansion.”

The woman’s eyes pierced into Aeliana’s, sharp with fury. Aeliana swallowed hard. The woman’s gaze softened only when directed at Silvanus, but every glance at her brimmed with hostility.

“We are happy to see you again, Ma’am Aeliana,” said the old man politely.

Bob turned to his wife, as though urging Lindy to greet Aeliana as well, but Lindy only nodded curtly and looked away.

“They were often with you here, before the…” Silvanus’s words trailed off, as though he had caught himself remembering something he should not mentioned.

“Don’t talk about it, Sir Silvanus,” Lindy interrupted sharply. “We’ll just pretend Ma’am Aeliana never existed here in the…”

“Lindy!” Bob cut her off sternly. Lindy rolled her eyes and turned away from Bob.

Bob gave Aeliana a strained smile.

“Forgive my wife, Ma’am Aeliana. Perhaps she simply cannot believe you’ve returned.”

If she was Silvanus's wife. Aeliana was certain she would never wander anywhere and would most likely loved to stay in the house.

She's no sociable. She prefers staying in the house, alone.

“Where was I before, Uncle Bob?” Aeliana asked curiously.

But before he could answer, Silvanus cleared his throat. Bob turned to look at Silvanus instead, leaving the question hanging in the air.

“They’re both busy, Aeliana,” Silvanus said smoothly, offering the couple a polite smile.

Lindy returned his smile with warmth—so unlike how Lindy had looked at her just moments earlier.

Doubt clouded Aeliana’s mind, growing heavier with every encounter that day.

And yet, none of them—neither Silvanus, nor Lindy, nor Bob—could she remember.

What kind of accident had truly happened to her, and why had it stolen so much of her memory?