Revelation of the Secrets!

The following morning, Seraphina awoke on the same bed she had risen from after her demise. The night had been tumultuous, having traversed several miles on a shaky cart that left her with an excruciating headache.

She perched on the bed, her heart burdened by a heavy weight, and exhaled deeply as she noticed the faint glow of the rising sun. Her nocturnal routine had been disrupted, failing to provide the solace it once did.

Aware that a restful eight-hour slumber was imperative, she found herself unable to attain the serenity she sought, interrupted by Kara's boisterous voice upon opening her eyes.

Once more, she sighed and settled back on the bed, propping herself up with her elbows.

Like an overwhelming tsunami, memories of her stay washed over her. The stolen moments shared with Damian, the enigmatic fate intertwined with Genghis, and the uncertain future that lay ahead elicited both apprehension and eager anticipation within her.

She rested her head in her hands, acknowledging that the road ahead held greater challenges. Among her ruminations, a profound guilt cloaked her heart: What if she were still Jane?

Her mind continued to churn with contemplation, reaching deeper depths of thought.

She thought… thought… And thought.

And in the end, her ponderings led to yet another revelation.

"If I were still Jane, none of this would have happened," she mused aloud, her voice filled with a mixture of longing and resignation.

As Jane, she would have served as the king's consort, playing a pivotal role in matters of state and diplomacy. She would have acted as an advisor, offering guidance and support in decision-making. Her responsibilities would have extended to charitable and social initiatives, representing the kingdom and fostering goodwill among its people. Additionally, she would have worked towards preserving traditions and culture, serving as a symbol of unity and continuity for the realm.

That was her previous life—the life that had killed her existence and granted her the opportunity to live anew as Seraphina.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she shifted her gaze to the still-packed travel trunk. The recollection of the journal left atop the trunk flooded her mind.

"I almost forgot about its existence," she murmured, her curiosity piqued. With a deliberate attempt to avoid making noise and disturbing others, she tiptoed towards the trunk.

The thin walls needed caution, and she opened the trunk gently, using one hand to sift through her clothes. Her fingers encountered the familiar solidity of the book, and she grabbed it, holding it up to examine closely.

Traces of dust clung to its surface, which she brushed off delicately before studying the letters inscribed upon it.

"I remember..." she whispered, her gaze fixed on the familiar script.

They were the same letters she had discovered on the quills, remnants of her mother's possessions. She could vividly recall spending countless hours scrutinizing those letters, immersing herself in the story and striving to discern her place within its narrative.

Yet, as she realized that the actual tale diverged from her expectations and that the details did not align, she had ultimately given up on unraveling its secrets.

But the book in her hand said otherwise.

This was not a fictional book or a fantasy book, but it looked as if it was a journal.

[4th October 1782]

Dear Journal,

Another day has come to pass, and with it, I find solace in the embrace of my cherished journal. As the sun's golden rays gently caress the aged pages, I am compelled to pour forth the musings and events of my weary heart. This morning greeted me with a symphony of chirping birds, their melodies weaving through the open casement of my chamber. The air, crisp and cool, whispered promises of autumn's arrival.

With a heavy sigh and bones that creaked with the weight of years, I rose from my humble bed, where restful slumber still eludes me. The tapestries adorning the walls whispered stories of distant lands, a reminder of the adventures I once sought. However, time has etched its mark upon my countenance, and my wanderlust has given way to the comforting familiarity of these castle walls.

Breakfast was a modest affair, shared in the grand dining hall, where the light of the chandeliers danced upon the polished silverware. A simple repast of warm porridge and freshly baked bread embraced my senses, offering a measure of sustenance to face the day's endeavors. The chatter and laughter of courtiers filled the air, their conversations weaving a tapestry of intrigue and fleeting joys.

As the hours waned, I found respite in the castle's lush gardens, where roses bloomed in vibrant hues. Their petals, delicate and fragrant, whispered secrets of love and devotion. Lost in their embrace, I found solace, my weary heart finding comfort in nature's timeless beauty.

Now, as evening descends, casting its velvety cloak upon the kingdom, I retire to my chamber once more. The flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows upon the walls, offering solace in the twilight hours. With a quill in hand and an inkwell by my side, I shall pen these sacred memories, weaving a tapestry of words that shall endure beyond my time.

Tomorrow awaits, with its own tales to be written upon the tapestry of my life. Until then, dear journal, I bid you goodnight, knowing that within your pages, the echoes of my existence shall forever be preserved.

Yours Faithfully,

Genevieve Ashbourne

-

The name of the woman who had written the letter caught in Sera's throat, leaving her breathless. It was the same name as the author of the book she had been reading.

"How could this be?" she furrowed her brow, deep in thought. Nothing seemed to add up, and she yearned for answers. Turning to the next page, her eyes widened in shock.

"No! This...?" Her hand instinctively covered her mouth as she stared at the empty page before her. Only the date remained, the rest of the ink mysteriously vanished. Despite it being the day following the previous entry, there was nothing more.

She hurriedly flipped through the remaining pages, only to find them all devoid of any content. Frustration washed over her, and she let out an exasperated sigh, placing the book on the floor with a heavy thud.

"Not even a book can provide me with answers," she muttered, her voice filled with disappointment.

Just as she had resigned herself to the lack of information, a small slip of paper slipped out from between the book's pages, fluttering to the ground.

Dear Seraphina,

The book has found its way into your hands, and I couldn't help but contemplate the possibilities. The book speaks of things I may not be able to express. My dear Si, you always had a fondness for poetry, but this book holds prose, and within it, you will uncover truths you may not desire. It delves into your destiny.

Beloved daughter, read the pages one by one, dusk after dusk. Listen carefully, for patience is the greatest virtue.

With love,

Your mother.

Sera's mouth hung open as she read the letter. Countless questions flooded her mind, threatening to overwhelm her sanity.

"How is this possible?"

Wide-eyed, she sat on the floor, clutching the book in her hands and rereading each line from the beginning. The descriptions painted a vivid picture of the palace she had recently resided in. The way the dining hall was described matched how the palace had been in the past.

But the journal left her with lingering questions. What was her mother trying to convey? Was it about her future? Or were they lessons to be learned?

"Why, if you knew your daughter, couldn't you provide clearer answers here?" she pondered, closing the book.

Carefully, she tucked the little piece of paper back inside and searched for a hiding place for the book.

Her eyes scanned the room, taking in every piece of furniture and item. The drawers were already filled, leaving her with no space to conceal the book without the risk of discovery.

"Oh!" A sudden spark of joy illuminated her face as she realized she could easily slip the book under her mattress. No one would dare to disturb her mattress, providing the perfect hiding spot.

Thus, she sat at the table and began writing about the observations she had made since arriving in this world. She hoped to uncover clues about what awaited her next. However, the realization that the journal's entries would only become visible day by day offered little assistance.

After thirty minutes of relentless writing, she let out a frustrated sigh. "Why am I making no progress?" she questioned herself.

"Perhaps you're overthinking it," a familiar voice spoke from behind, causing her to jump in surprise.

She turned to find Kara leaning against the doorframe. Kara appeared drowsy, but a warm smile graced her face.

"How long have you been standing there?" Sera asked.

"Since you said, 'Why am I getting nowhere?' The thing is, Sera," Kara began, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her, "figuring things out takes time. I understand how much you miss your mother, but dwelling too much on it will only bring you more pain."

Sera nodded, her gaze shifting back to her notes. Maybe she needed to take things one day at a time, as Kara suggested. Perhaps Kara was right, and this approach would lead to the best outcome.